Chapter 4! This one was tough. I was going to I cut off the last one, but decided against it. I really, REALLY like how the flow of this chapter worked out. That being said, there is some soft-foreplay at the end and I'll warn you now - I don't know how to write anything SEXY. I'm not used to writing anything explicit but I did my best to make it come across believable. Now that you've been warned, I hope you can bare with me. Also, some new perspectives that will give us more depth on some relationships. The ending might seem like everything could be resolved soon, but I'll break the news now, I intend this story to be looooong. Again, big round of applause to my slave editor, Perlaparrot, who's really hoping I find another editor or beta reader soon, if anyone's interested. That's all for now, so, here you go!
~The Hive in June~
Notes from Perlaparrot: "Ya'll need lives."
Notes from my brother: "Hey fam. Lots of gay shit in this one. Enjoy yourselves."
Spite & Dogma
Chapter 1: Certainty
Chapter 2: Caution
Chapter 3: Concessions
Chapter 4: Comforts
For the pleasure, the luxury of warmth
Of a small relief or burning hunger
Of old desires and longing
January 17
Iwaizumi
"Doctor Isobe to the ICU. Doctor Isobe to the ICU."
"And what kind of insurance do you and your wife have, sir?"
"Your father's release forms are being processed and you should be set within the hour."
"She's in Room-B3 on the second floor."
"Can you go run to the supply room and get extra gauze?"
Iwaizumi didn't remember when he had started taking his breaks in the nurses station, but after his first year in his post-op tutelage, he had found the constant humming of ever moving nurses and the nonstop demands to patients, doctors, and on the phone a comfortable sort of chaos. He would drink his tea in the morning with Sugawara in the east wing, have a sandwich between his shifts while Yamaguchi did all the surgical scheduling for the day, and he and Mattsun would sometimes do their crosswords during their breaks behind the counter between the desk and the coffee machine. With all the bustling and noise in the background, Iwaizumi felt there was no better method to clear his head.
He had just finished his morning rounds and was currently waiting for Yamaguchi to finish faxing out a few papers to grab a bite to eat. He sat on a comfy rolling chair behind Yamaguchi's station, staring up onto the ceiling, eagerly waiting to get home. He had a long graveyard shift for the fourth day in a row and he was feeling rough. After food, he would only have to review his new patient's stats and be on his merry way home. He would sleep till the new moon… or until he had to get ready for his date later.
"So? You excited?" He turned his head from the ceiling to the kind freckled man who was approaching him with a fresh batch of pristine white papers contrasting vastly against his soft tan scrubs.
"For?
"Your date, of course. What else?"
"Oh, yeah," he looked back towards the white plaster and sighed low enough so Yamaguchi couldn't hear, "Should be fun."
"Yeah, he's really fun. Hitoka always talks about how he is really good at darts when they go to this dive bar nearby. He's handsome, too!"
"Oh, yeah?" He couldn't remember why he agreed to go on a blind date set up by Yamaguchi. He was probably sleep deprived when he agreed, or Mattsun had pressured him.
"Yeah, and he's your type, too." Iwaizumi scrunched his forehead, turning once again to his friend.
"And how would you know what my type is, exactly?" he asked, curious.
"I showed Mattsun a picture. And he just turned with a scary grin and said he was your type." Iwaizumi felt his left eye twitch, taking a mental raincheck to reprimand his nosey friend.
"So, you showed him a picture of this guy, but you won't show me? What if we end up missing the whole date because I don't know who he even is?"
"He's seen your picture."
"Oh, c'mon then. How's that fair?" He protested. He had agreed to a blind date with the assumption that he wouldn't be the only one who had zero clue what to expect. He had gone to get drinks with Yamaguchi and his girlfriend who had told him that she knew someone who would be really interested in him. And since he wasn't currently seeing anyone, he didn't think there would be any harm in meeting this guy. Both his old friends, Mattsun and his longtime boyfriend Makki, were having a hoot over the idea of him going on this date. Oikawa would probably make fun of him too if he knew.
"It's not. But I promised Mattsun and Hitoka I wouldn't show you," he turned to him with a gentle smile, "If it makes you feel better, both Daichi-san and Suga-san thinks he's very handsome. So you can rest assured that I'm not egging you on."
"They're too nice. It's not like they would say anything else. Now, if you told me your grouchy friend thought so too, then I'd be convinced."
"Tsukki? Hmm, well, I don't know what he'd say exactly. But I doubt he'd call him ugly."
"I'd believe you...if you would just show me," he exasperated.
"Why are you being so persistent?" he asked while shuffling the papers into the filing cabinet, then he looked up with a small grin, "Are you excited, Iwaizumi-san?" He looked at the younger man with a blank face.
"No. I just like to know what the person looks like since everyone had apparently seen him. Besides, it's just a date," he shrugged, standing when Yamaguchi closed the cabinet and grabbed his bento, "It's not a big deal."
Yamaguchi turned to him wearily, then sighed as he began to walk, Iwaizumi following closely behind.
"Why are you like that?"
"Like what?"
"So aloof. About a date," he turned sharply at him as they continued, "You know, you might actually like him," he huffed. Iwaizumi shrugged nonchalantly, not really sure what the nurse expected out of him. He sighed at the older man wearily, almost like he was used to the behavior. "I'll never understand you guys."
"Hmm?" Iwaizumi wasn't sure what he meant. Guys? Yamaguchi sighed again, a small smile gracing his lips as he shook his head slightly.
"Tsukki is the same way. Except I know he actually goes on dates," his face quickly dropped and his lips turned downwards, "Or on 'non-dates.'" Iwaizumi raised a brow.
"Really? He doesn't seem like the type..."
"A bad habit he picked up in Uni," his frown deepened. Then, his face lit up. "Oh, you heard about Bokuto-san and Akaashi-san, right?"
"No. What happened?" Iwaizumi was well acquainted with everyone and anyone that had anything to do with the national team, being best friends with one of their star setters. The last time he talked to the beefy spiker was last month, so he didn't really have any idea of the latest gossip.
"They're engaged!" He marveled. Iwaizumi stopped his steps, flabbergasted. A grin broke out across his face at the big news. He was aware of how long the couple had been together, and how long they've known each other. It was about time. He wondered if Oikawa knew already, being on the same team as Bokuto. He looked back at Yamaguchi, who now sported a small blush and faraway look in his eyes.
When they found a seat at the cafeteria, Iwaizumi asked Yamaguchi what he was thinking about. He tried to look away and dismiss the question, but eventually gave in to Iwaizumi's blank face. He then proceeded to tell him what happened, after hearing it from Yachi, who heard it from Kageyama, who was told the story from Bokuto on how they both proposed. Iwaizumi accidently laughed when he heard that Bokuto started to cry when he thought Akaashi rejected him, much to the scolding of Yamaguchi. It was just funny to imagine the big, loud, almost cartoonish wing spiker being all sensitive and crying his eyes out. After apologizing, the nurse finished his retelling of the story.
"Well, I tried to tell Tsukki the news, but apparently, he already knew. He went with Akaashi-san to go buy his engagement ring for Bokuto-san! He didn't even tell me. Which I understand, secrecy and all that," then he started blushing again, making Iwaizumi smirk as he bit into his sandwich. "But he told me about these stores he went to with him...and how they have really nice rings. Ones, that maybe I might be interested in buying. That's all."
"Oh? Really now? You thinking about popping the question to Yachi? Since when?" he interrogated, curious as to when the shy man had even decided on such a big step.
"Um, well. I don't know, a year, maybe?" Iwaizumi's faced dropped.
"A whole year? And you're barely doing it now?!" he roared.
"I don't know! I just didn't...Besides, now I know Tsukki will go with me."
"If he'd even want to do that all over again."
"He is my best friend."
"Point being? Kid's still a grouch."
"Well, so are you Iwaizumi-san," he giggled behind his hand as Iwaizumi made a face, "But even I'm positive that if Oikawa asked you to go with him to find a ring, you'd go."
Iwaizumi looked back down at his own food at the comment. Yamaguchi then proceeded to talk about if he could get the upcoming weekend off to go looking then. As he kept talking, Iwaizumi thought back to what he said about Oikawa.
If he was being honest with himself, he wasn't sure if he would accompany his best friend to shop for an engagement ring. Maybe he was harsh to think so, but he figured it would be for the best. He would probably end up beating Oikawa to a pulp out of frustration. Thankfully, it wasn't a rational fear he had to worry about. He knew Oikawa would never ask, he'd end up surprising him with a ring instead.
He and the flamboyant setter had always been close. They've been best friends since childhood, much to Iwaizumi's false annoyance. Their closeness, however, had been merciless.
Oikawa's temper almost never got the better of him. He usually just let small things slide or even have short bursts of frustration occasionally but...he never thought Oikawa was cruel. Not like Iwaizumi. He could rip him apart and break your heart without so much finishing a full sentence. And it had all started in their third (and last) year at Aoba Johsai.
During the first couple of weeks, they were all trying to get a feel of the first years and Oikawa was trying to adjust being captain of an all-around powerhouse volleyball team. There was nothing more important than that, or more exhausting. Besides beating Kageyama, for Oikawa (much to everyone else's bane—especially Iwaizumi).
They had persevered and their team was strong. And even though they were equals, Iwaizumi had grown to admire his best friend that year. He had blossomed into a fine captain, a strong competitor, and still managed to stay the same friend Iwaizumi had grown up with.
Then one day, none of that mattered.
They had lost their last chance at nationals, and their time had come to an end. All of their hard work, all their effort, all their potential no longer mattered. At the end, he had failed to connect, to get the last point. And as he began to break, his best friend—his strong, talented, ambitious, admirable best friend—held him together. Oikawa's shoulders were heavy with the entire team's burden that day. He held himself up and kept their team strong. He'd been strong for the both of them.
At some point, he had lost track of him after their loss. When he reappeared he had the fire back in his eyes. The one he always had when he thought about Ushiwaka. Iwaizumi could never look away when he saw that fire. He had kept that fire when they had gotten back to school, during their meeting, and as they walked to Iwaizumi's house. Once in the sanctuary of his room, he saw the flames in Oikawa's eyes start to fade.
They had washed up and changed and laid next to each other, and his eyes were turning dull with grief. As they had tried to overcome their anguish, he felt a pull on his heart. He reached for his friend, hoping he wasn't falling down the rabbit hole. When he had grasped his hand, his eyes stung when he heard him gasp back a sob.
"Shit...We were so close, Iwa-chan. So fucking close."
As he heard his choked breaths and attempts to not cry, his hand had somehow found its way to Oikawa's face. At some point, he had turned and they had found each other's eyes. Iwaizumi's were red and puffy from crying earlier in the shower, and Oikawa's were squinted as hot streams of tears fell from his fire-filled eyes. And like that, his lips had found their way to his best friend's.
He kissed his friend despite the salty taste from the tears, despite the agony they couldn't shake, and despite Iwaizumi's denial for how he had felt more than friendship for him for a long time. He hated himself for being selfish, but it felt like the right thing to do. And when he felt Oikawa's lips start to move against his, all the weight on his shoulders started to slip away. With each movement, with each tentative touch of their hands slowly finding a place in their hair and on their body, with each small awkward bite or nibble of their lips all the stress of the day laid forgotten as Iwaizumi was overtaken with need.
And so he kissed him—because he hated to see his best friend cry, because even though they felt raw and wounded they would grow stronger from this agony, and because he had been so confused and so undeniably in love with Oikawa that he didn't want to feel any more regret.
He burned for him. He loved that Oikawa ran hot, embers igniting anyone who got close enough. He loved the fire.
"I love you, Oikawa."
Now, years later, his heart was filled with nothing but regret. They had gone so far that night that there was no sense in denial anymore. He wanted all of Oikawa, all that Oikawa would give him. His heart swelled when he found out that his best friend always felt the same, maybe even for longer. Putting aside their past relationships and their recent losses, they had begun to explore exactly what they could be. Iwaizumi was happy, he was whole, and they were together.
Then he caught Oikawa trying to hide his acceptance letter to Chuo University. He had been scouted for their national winning volleyball team, and Iwaizumi couldn't understand why he wouldn't tell him he got into his dream school. They had a fight when Oikawa told him that he could always go to Tohuko University—the university that Iwaizumi had chosen to attend for his medical degree. Oikawa had tried to convince him that he could play volleyball anywhere, that he could play for any school. Iwaizumi had lost his shit.
So, as they had continued their relationship, Iwaizumi had continued to demand that he attend Chuo. Yes, he wanted to go to the same school as him, he knew that Oikawa would be welcomed by any school he wanted to attend, he knew that it could all work out for them. They could still be together. Then Oikawa told him that he had been accepted to Tohuko, and Iwaizumi was elated, then he felt like scum. He had actually been excited that Oikawa would give everything he stood for...for Iwaizumi. He was vermin, awful, and trash.
His friend deserved better than trash.
Oikawa never lost his temper, and he was never cruel—not like Iwaizumi.
So Iwaizumi had to be cruel for both of them.
He had written to Tohuko for Oikawa and rejected their offer, and wrote Chuo accepting Oikawa's place on the team. The problem was he knew Oikawa too well. He knew his friend would lose his temper, would be frustrated, and demand that Iwaizumi had to accept that Oikawa would always choose him over his dream.
And so Iwaizumi, with all the heartbreak and agony, chose for the both of them.
He would be strong for the both of them.
He told Oikawa that he couldn't be with him anymore, that they had to end it. That they would go to different schools, and that they would both chase their dreams—separately. He had prepared himself days before, spilling all his tears early on to stay strong when the moment came. As Oikawa sobbed and hit his chest and demanded that he take it back and tell him that he was joking, that he didn't mean it, Iwaizumi stood there motionless, not taking back any of his words.
"This is over… We can't be together... I'm sorry Oikawa."
And without saying anything else, he ripped him apart. With that, he broke him. With a hard heart, he left Oikawa to pick up the pieces by himself this time around.
He would not help him back up, no matter how much he wanted to. He couldn't be with him—he couldn't hold him back from his future. He would not be the reason that Oikawa's dreams didn't come true. He would do anything to make sure that Oikawa had all he had ever longed for—even if Iwaizumi had to lose the one thing he ever wanted, even if he had to break his own heart. Life was cruel to him, but he endured. He would be strong for the both of them.
As eight years passed, Iwaizumi still felt the same. Even after all the sleepless nights and endless crying, he couldn't be selfish. Even after they had reconnected a few mere weeks after their breakup, he promised himself he wouldn't be selfish. He promised himself he could not be with him if he would only be a burden.
And his resolve stayed strong.
He stayed strong at the numerous times Oikawa had asked to be with him again, had been strong when he had to resist Oikawa's advances, stayed strong after he moved to Tokyo and saw him more often. He stayed strong when they met up for parties, and birthdays, and group outings and gravitated towards each other. He stayed strong all these years, because even though he's never stopped loving him, even though he's dated from time to time and knew Oikawa did too, even though he had his career going and Oikawa was in the national team, he would still hold Oikawa down.
So he had decided a long time ago that he would wait—wait until he was finished with his tutelage and be chosen to be the private physician for the national volleyball team. Only then he would finally be good enough for Oikawa. He would be someone who would only help him achieve his dream. Only then could he ask to try again, to ask for forgiveness after all these years.
It also didn't help that he knew Oikawa never dated seriously. If he was being honest, though, he was glad that they both had come to a silent understanding. Oikawa never told him of the people he was dating (unless it was one of the few times when they were younger and he tried to rile him up and get him jealous when they were drunk) and Iwaizumi never mentioned anyone either. Neither had been in a serious enough relationship to bring it up to the other, refraining the heartache. Once they were both in a place to only elevate one another, they would no longer have to resist the gravity that always seemed to force them together. There would be no stopping them. Or stopping Iwaizumi, at least.
So no, he would not expect Oikawa to ask him to go ring shopping with him. He would expect a huge parade instead. One with disgusting floats and all their friends. He would expect a grand gesture because that's who Oikawa was. So when that time came, he would be the one to ask. There was no other outcome in Iwaizumi's mind—it wasn't a chance, it was destined. Kismet.
"So, what does Oikawa think of this date of yours?"
He was finally walking out of the hospital with Mattsun into the afternoon air, brisk and cold during winter. He no longer had on his scrubs but a nice wool coat and a scarf that covered the bottom half of his face. He also wore the gloves Oikawa had given him for Christmas. He side eyed Mattsun, who only gave him a knowing smirk, well aware of his answer.
"Why would I tell Shittykawa?" he could see Mattsun in his peripheral miming his answer in mockery, as if quoting him word for word, "It's just a date."
He scowled as his friend openly laughed at his answer. When they got to the station and noted his train was about to arrive, he clarified to his friend before as he heard the train turn in the tunnel.
"It's not like it matters."
"You're so stubborn. See ya' tomorrow."
"See ya."
He waved to his old friend as he boarded his train, Mattsun giving him a head nod as he grinned sadly at him. When he got home, he showered away the past twenty-four hours of stress and labor, ate a snack and decided to take a short nap. As he laid on his lumpy couch, he texted Oikawa asking him if he was sleeping properly and to not pick on Kageyama so much.
As he felt his eyes grow heavy, he wondered what Yamaguchi meant that his date was his type and what would make Mattsun an expert. Did he even have a type… He tried not to think negatively. He was curious about the kind of person we would meet.
Did he have light brown hair and a cheeky attitude?
Did he seem like the guy to intentionally piss him off?
Was he ambitious and talented and strong and admirable?
He let out a small chuckle, reminding himself that it didn't really matter.
This guy could be as handsome as they come, it didn't matter. He can be irritable and good looking, could gush about himself and aliens, could be endearing and over dramatic, it didn't matter. He wouldn't hold a candle to his future. He wouldn't have a comfortable sort of chaos to him. He wouldn't have fire in his eyes.
January 18
Kageyama
Sometimes Kageyama wondered what he did in his past lives to be cursed with constantly dealing with overzealous people and their constant luck with happiness. He was currently sitting against the side wall of the team gymnasium on his water break listening—for the three-hundredth time—to Bokuto retell his fairytale proposal.
It had been only a few days, and Kageyama already knew it by first time he heard it was great. The second and third time were still fine. By the twentieth time, he was ready to claw someone's eyes out.
He was happy for him, for the both of them. They deserved each other, and only Akaashi would be able to put up with Bokuto. He turned back to the loud spiker who had just gotten to telling the younger team manager the part where he thought Akaashi had rejected him. And like clockwork, he heard Oikawa attempt to hold back his laugh. He didn't have a problem with the story, but hearing it over and over again only kept reminding everyone of how happy they were. And some people might not be appreciative of being reminded of how perfect other people's love lives were compared to theirs.
Kageyama rose from the wall slowly, not wanting to listen anymore. He was happy for them; they made a great couple. He knew plenty of great couples: Sugawara-san and Daichi-san, Bokuto-san and Akaashi-san, his neighbors Yaku and Lev, and Kenma and Hinata.
Especially Kenma and Hinata.
He walked over to Oikawa who was practicing his serves who stopped and turned when he noticed Kageyama there.
"You're going to get frown lines, Tobio-chan." He smiled.
He tried his best to ignore his senpai, focusing on his breathing as he began to serve. As one ball after another made it's way across the net, Kageyama tried his best not to feel his blood boiling as he attempted to ignore Bokuto repeating his story AGAIN.
He gets it—they're happy, have a perfect relationship, yadda yadda.
Kageyama bit his lip trying to fight a scowl. His spit tasted bitter. After setting the ball out of bounds a dozen more times, Oikawa pulled him aside.
"What the matter?" he asked. Kageyama tried his best to not sulk.
"Nothing. It's just getting annoying hearing Bokuto ramble all the time, is all." He looked at his feet when he heard Oikawa sigh. He knew he wasn't the only one getting annoyed with him too, but he seemed to be the only one who was getting upset.
"Well, can you blame him? I'm sure anyone would be acting the same if it were them."
"Not me," he corrected. He heard Oikawa snort and he stared him down as he tried his best to cover his mouth.
"Well that's because nobody's dumb enough to date you," he chuckled, "Not even the pipsqueak."
Kageyama gave him the coldest glare he could muster. Registering his mood, Oikawa tried to wave off his reaction, telling him he didn't mean it. After a moment, he smirked back at him with his hand on his hip, wondering if he hit a sore spot.
"I was only joking."
"Tch," he wasn't in the mood for Oikawa's harassment. He was stopped before he could turn away from the older man. "I don't have time for this, right now. If you're just going to make fun of me, then let go."
"Fine, but cool down a bit. Take a walk, it's not like your serves were working anyways."
"Yeah, whatever." He decided to walk to the convenient store across the street, trying to calm himself from what Oikawa said.
Then he felt his eye twitch remembering about someone having to be and idiot for being with him. His shoulders slumped at the thought, a sense of defeat wavering over him. He tried not to dwell on it too much. Besides, it's not like any of it mattered. The only person he knew that was truly stupid was already in a relationship—and they made a great couple.
They were happy and had a perfect relationship...yadda yadda.
He grabbed a small box of milk and some pocky when he got to the store. As he was making his way to the cashier his phone vibrated. He checked it quickly and saw that he had a calendar reminder that Hinata was getting back tomorrow. His hand gripping the phone tightly and pushed the side button to lock it. He paid and started walking back.
He figured he should give him a call soon. He's been at the firehouse for over two weeks. He tried not to dwell on Hinata much. It wasn't his place, but he did miss him. The last time they actually hung out was at his and Akaashi's party, and his boyfriend was there. It was really nice of Kenma to help plan it out, along with Tsukishima.
He and the tall blond had a strange friendship where they denied to have anything other than malice towards the other, but they did have a strong sense of loyalty and understanding. However, he and Kenma weren't close in the least, regardless of the fact that he was dating his best friend.
It's not like it mattered. Kenma was with the dumbass now, and he was happy for them. Even if he was jealous—has been for six years. Which is ridiculous.
Maybe if he was braver in high school, things would be different. They had somehow become each other's closest friend by their second year in Karasuno, despite their aggressive dynamic towards the other. They were competitive and reckless. And through endless practice, training camps, and tournaments he had fallen for the mouthy redhead.
He felt like the dumbass. And if he thought about it, he knew why he never said anything to him, why he never took a chance.
He couldn't lose him. So he chose cowardice.
He couldn't sleep for a week when he realized how he felt when he was a teenager, but he figured that his feelings would dissipate. But even at 23, he still felt like a hormonal and confused 16-year-old.
But they were still friends, so at least he hadn't messed that up. As he got back to the gym, he felt fine enough to continue practice.
He called Hinata a few hours later, leaving a message on his answering machine. He knew that he was just feeling low out of envy and one-sided jealousy (and Bokuto's endless bragging), but he didn't really have any outlet. Unlike Hinata, he didn't have a relationship to distract himself with as he was in denial about having feelings for his best friend. He tried not to frown when he thought for a second that the universe put Hinata and Kenma out of spite of him. Kageyama was blessed with a genius that wasn't matched, but with his gifts, he was cursed with watching the person he loved be happy with someone else. And he endured, and he told himself to be happy for them. For him. For now.
January 21
Tsukishima
Tsukishima was the last person left in the lab going over research, as per usual. It was a common occurrence for him. He enjoyed his work and staying a little longer never bothered him. His work life never suffered, being someone who always put their responsibilities and duties before their social life. He still found time for Yamaguchi and his other friends from time to time, and now that he and Akaashi had become close again, he found himself sometimes staying late less.
However, without the audience of his co-workers or any of his superiors keeping an eye out, he tended to relax and do things he wouldn't usually be able to get away with. He listened to music on his headphones when he cleaned the new shipments, brought snacks in and ate as he wrote his dissertation inside the labs, and he even, on occasion, was on his phone checking out social media. And one crazy time, he didn't bring his gloves before entering.
He was a rebel in a lab coat. He also used this extra time to catch up with friends.
"This weekend? Nothing I think. Why, what did you have in mind?"
"Well," he heard Yamaguchi pause, and already knew where this was going. "Maybe you wouldn't mind coming with me to find a ring for Hitoka...Please?"
He rolled his eyes, wondering why he ever mentioned anything. Going ring shopping with Akaashi was definitely better than going with Akiteru, but he was still uncomfortable. Especially when he remembered how it ended. Going with Yamaguchi, as annoying as he knew it would be, was something he would go no matter.
Didn't mean he had to pretend to be excited.
"Sure."
"Really?!"
"Well, yes. I'd just be an asshole if I said no."
"I know you don't mean that."
"Of course, I do."
"Awe~ Tsukki, you do care."
"Shut up, Yamaguchi."
"Sorry, Tsukki."
He had a fair assumption that Yamaguchi was smiling. Regardless of how annoying it would be, he was happy that Yamaguchi was finally taking the next step with Yachi. The small blonde was his better half in plenty of ways. She was kind, ambitious, and could direct Yamaguchi out of his awkward slumps. She was always there when Tsukishima couldn't be. He couldn't have found a better co-pilot. "Then after looking, we can hang out and grab dinner. Hitoka works for the most part but only has to stop by for a meeting on Sunday, so we can grab dinner together. Does Sunday work?"
"Sure, What time?"
"Um, noon okay?" He looked over to his calendar, seeing his weekend wide open.
"Yeah, that should be fine." Then the blond heard a loud growl and looked down to his stomach, wondering what time he last ate. He looked at the clock, realizing how late it had gotten without food. He figured now was a good time as any to lock up. "I'm actually about to leave, so I'll message you tomorrow about this. Yeah?"
"Oh, sure. Get home safe, okay."
"Yeah, no problem. Bye."
"Alright, bye bye. And don't forget to eat som—" He hung up before Yamaguchi finished. His friends still nagged him about taking care of himself that he had long been used to ignoring it for the most part. They knew he took care of himself well enough. He was a fucking adult. As he put his paperwork away and hung his coat, he took out his phone and searched for some takeout places near his place.
He knew most of the restaurant he frequented, but today he wasn't feeling any of them. It was a quarter past 9 so most of his regular spots were closed. As he scrolled down his options, he found a place he had never been to that happened to be open till late. It had high ratings, reasonable prices, and an extensive menu. He figured that the restaurant must have only recently become tech savvy, seeing as how it's apparently been open for a few years now and was only a few blocks away from his flat. They had agedashi tofu, soba, ika geso, and tempura.
When he walked out of the museum, he saw that they also had salted mackerel and it was decided. It had been a long time since he had some really good salted mackerel— about four years. The thing was, only Kuroo knew the best places for it.
He let out a low groan, reprimanding his thought for betraying him for what was possibly the millionth time. He's felt stupid, wondering why he couldn't seem to get the older man out of his head. Over the years, Tsukishima had always kept a clear head when it came to the cat enthusiast. However, ever since his conversation with Akaashi he's been doomed with constantly thinking about him. What was more pathetic was knowing that his chronic reflecting and stupid musing was all one-sided; he honestly doubted that Kuroo would ever be thinking so much about him.
Tsukishima knew that he would have to find a way to deal with the never-ending pondering since he was going to be a part of Akaashi's and Bokuto's wedding. He had already texted Akaashi a few days after they met up and told him he'd be a groomsman. So as the best man to Bokuto, Kuroo would be around all the time.
Would that be such a bad thing?
Jesus.
Tsukishima wanted to slap himself. He had more goddamn self-control than this. He always prided himself in keeping a level head on his shoulders.
One man can't be all it took for his entire psyche to come undone and turn him into a stupid teenage girl with an unhealthy obsession. He was better than that, for fuck's sake.
As he waited for his train on his platform, the former middle blocker thought back to where he would be in the wedding party. He wondered if he'd look ridiculous in the tuxes. He pouted, wondering if he would need to learn a stupid dance when he walked down the aisle with another groomsman…
It would probably be Kuroo's idea. It would be cheesy—cheesy enough that the wedding crowd would enjoy it because they're simpletons and would all dance along with the catchy poppy tune. And at the end of the aisle, Akaashi would be hating it silently, but would eventually go along with it because Bokuto would love it and dance along, while Tsukishima would have to deal.
He would have to deal with sentimental speeches, deal with holding poses and making silly faces for pictures, deal with dancing with Bokuto's great-aunt who'd only reach to his sternum and he'd pretend not to notice as she wheezes on his tie and attempt to cop a feel on his ass.
The only joy he would have being a part of the wedding party would be Akaashi's and Bokuto's first dance when Bokuto would fling the smaller man around the dance floor, and when Kenma would probably walk down the aisle while on his phone, and Kuroo charming the entire venue with his handsome looks and his engaging nature.
Kuroo would be giving out tissues as Bokuto and Akaashi gave their vows, would end up dancing with Akaashi's lewd cougar godmother, and would end up catching the bouquets (yes, both of them). As stupid and pathetic as it might be, Tsukishima really was looking forward to all things Kuroo.
It would be a challenge trying to keep a level head, but he would keep his distance. With his current self, he was afraid that he wouldn't be able to restrain himself at close proximity to the older man. Distance would be his ally during the time leading up to the wedding.
However, on the small occurrences when they would see each other, he would let a small part of him bask in the wanderlust of what he wished they could have been. They would make small talk during the engagement party and would flirt a little in the bachelor party, and when the wedding came, they would share a dance or two, and then Tsukishima would be satisfied.
For the end of his days, he would be satisfied with fantasizing and daydreaming until Kuroo found someone to settle down with and he would accept it.
All the while, he will become a scientist and travel and give lectures. He'll probably have a few love affairs with some flight attendant and fellow researchers, then take an excavation in South America and live the rest of his days with a well behaved, toilet-trained cat named Hoshi.
And he would leave his past fondness for Kuroo Tetsurou behind.
But...he would enjoy what he could get for now.
He would indulge in the fantasy when they would graze their knuckles accidently when they walked a little close to each other in their tuxedos (and Tsukishima's hand would tremble, wanting to reach out).
Indulge when he would help him get the grooms to their room when they drank too much and exchange jokes and silly banter (they would both have rosy cheeks and slur).
He'd savor how it would feel when Kuroo got close to him and tell him he had to relax (his breath smelling like sake and mint).
Soak in the small glances he would send when he danced with Bokuto against his will (pretending that Kuroo would also send some his way, going unnoticed).
He allowed himself to wishfully look forward to the small encounters they were bound to have. Even in his current grandiose crisis, not wanting to let his buried feelings resurface, he could admit that he would still enjoy the small moments. He would enjoy them in denial—at a distance. Like he always had.
His train ran some ten minutes late when he finally reached the station close to his place, the restaurant thankfully still open. As he entered, he was given a take-out menu, ordered, and took a seat on a small bench while patiently waiting for his food. His meal was said to take some time since they had a few other orders to make as well, but he wasn't in too much of a rush. He sat in silence, pulling out his phone and slipping his headphones out of his bag.
As the tall blond waited, he wondered if his constant daydreaming was a sign of a deadly tumor forming in his brain and if he should to talk to a neurologist; it was the most lucid explanation. Tsukishima wasn't anything if not logical. He thought things through, like college, and his career, and his taxes… and starting physical relations with his senpai and all-time fantasy crush.
He was young and obviously naive. Now older and much less dense, he felt the consequences of his choices. He felt his tumor grow. Each pulse in his deadly growth brought by happy, cavity-inducing sweet memories and nice things. If his impending death would be caused by his demeaning delusion of a happily ever after, then why was he so eager to relish the fantasy and wishful thinking? Why would he knowingly dive into a one-sided pipe-dream?
He needed to get his shit together and return to a skeptical, logical mindset. One without charming best men and future moments at a wedding that would never be his.
He will eat his fucking fish, never order it again, and go back to pretending that he and Akaashi never had the conversation. Denial was what he wanted—he lived for denial. He was a fucking pro at denial. It was a comfort he's long known.
Things needed to be this way.
Things needed to be normal.
Things would not work otherwise.
Things don't work out for him.
He would go home and eat, tasting the spite and bitterness on his tongue, and go back to pretending that he wasn't wounded—go back to denial and distance. Like always.
He would go back to avoidance and keeping himself out of reach, fearing that if he was shown an ounce of kindness—a small gesture of hope—he wouldn't be able to hold back. He would embarrass himself and jump back into ice-water and give every ounce of himself for one night, for one moment, of old times. And he couldn't go back. He needed them to be on good terms, even if that meant they were practically strangers to each other.
It's not like they were ever good at being friends to begin with.
"A little while longer," the man on the other side of the counter had told him, Tsukishima nodded. He put his headphones away, sat in silence as he looked at his shoes with his wavering resolve, hoping the universe could give him peace. And in his sulking, he heard someone walk up to the counter and was immediately addressed.
"Ah, hey there kiddo," the guy behind the counter said, "You ordered ahead this time, I see. Your order will be finished in a while with the other guy's. Go have a seat." Tsukishima immediately frowned at the idea of having to share the small bench.
Then he heard the last thing he wanted to hear, in a warm baritone and chipper timbre.
"Alright. Thanks, Kenta! I'll be over here if yo..." He heard footsteps stop, a pregnant silence followed.
Reluctantly, Tsukishima lifted his heavy head and looked up at the familiar sight of Kuroo Tetsurou—in all his fucking glory. So much for distance.
The universe obviously had no care for his resolve as he felt all his willpower fade.
Things really never worked out for him.
Kuroo
And like a fucking addict, Kuroo felt a compulsive itch at the sight of Tsukishima Kei.
There he was, sitting on a small bench with a slight slouch and a look on his face that screamed that Kuroo was the last person he wanted to see.
(Here he was, with soft, incandescent pale skin and his glasses sitting low on his nose, with a cute grimace and his fingers pressed together)
There he was, in all his glory.
Kuroo felt a familiar ache find it's way to his chest, slowly tightening.
He realized that he was just standing there after one of the waitresses looked at him strangely. He coughed after a moment and walked towards the bench, Tsukishima scooting over to make room for him. After taking a seat, a heavy silence fell on them. Kuroo couldn't help but notice the close proximity between them, close enough to feel the warm heat radiating off one another and the barely-there tension suffocating them. And for the first time, Kuroo realized that they hadn't ever been alone with one another since they broke off their arrangement years ago.
It was odd, realizing that they've only ever been in the same room when their friends were present. Maybe it was unconscious or maybe Kuroo knew better. With his hazardous yearning for Tsukishima, it was a wonder how he had any restraint to begin with.
These past years of just 'hiding' his feelings for him had built a wall of denial, but he wasn't so sure now that he was in close proximity to the object of his affection.
This was bad—really bad. Being alone with Tsukishima was new territory for him and he needed buffers. He needed his friends to be around to make sure he doesn't say anything stupid and be there when the blond purposely ignored him.
He needed his friends to make it less apparent that they didn't know how to be around each other. He needs something to distract from the honest truth that they were never good at being friends to begin with.
He wondered if he's the only one anxious about being alone. He glanced quickly from his peripherals to the younger boy. He looked bored, giving no indication of awkwardness that Kuroo was full of. He let his shoulders fall slightly, a sad pout gracing his lips.
He had been right. The entire time, Kuroo was always the one fantasizing. He shouldn't be surprised. Tsukishima was always polite and courteous, even to people he didn't like—even to strangers.
Kuroo just never liked to believe he fell into that category.
He didn't want polite and courteous, he didn't want to be a stranger. There wasn't much to be done if all Tsukishima thought of him was a humorous fool or an overly flirtatious acquaintance. And as he looked away he noticed his old kohai's hands, fingers slightly fidgeting against one another—like they did when he was nervous.
A small grin made it to Kuroo's face as an ounce of courage found it's way to his voice. This was it, the first step to recovery. Facing your addiction.
"Hi, Tsukishima."
He saw the younger blond blink at his greeting, as if not expecting it. Kuroo wondered when they became so good at pretending 'they' never happened.
Of course, being guarded and cold, Tsukishima was always better at forgetting the past when he wanted. He straightened up, pulling back his shoulders and turned his head to halfway face Kuroo.
"Kuroo-san." Ah, the sentiment was almost too much.
He shouldn't be surprised. His nervousness must be due to Kuroo creeping him out. Maybe all this time, Kuroo was right. It was a bitter pill to choke down, but he always figured it was the case. Maybe the intimacy between them, when they were younger, was all in Kuroo's head. Maybe their closeness when they were younger, for Tsukishima, was due to curiosity and amusement, and a routine fuck.
Nothing more.
And for Kuroo, it was the same, until it wasn't. Until it became about watching the younger boy go to sleep in his arms and cutting off his circulation. Until he searched all of Tokyo for a giant green dinosaur costume to surprise him for Halloween. Until he had a jar of strawberry chews that he refilled every week on his nightstand when the blond slept over.
Until it became about pulling back all his layers and insecurities to let his vulnerabilities leak out and grab onto one Tsukishima Kei, who was always at a lightyear's distance from him, but was now just a hairsbreadth away.
"So, how's the mackerel here?" Even at their close proximity, he was not expecting Tsukishima to be the one to break their uncomfortable silence. Kuroo tried his best to keep his grin seem genuine.
"It's good. It's juicy and well seasoned," He looked to him, "Don't remember you being a big fan…" Tsukishima tsked at his comment, rolling his eyes as he sat against the back of the bench.
"I got a weird craving," he pouted slightly, "Didn't know you came here."
"Yeah, this place is one of my go-to's." He tried to stay charismatic, regardless of the small talk, thinking that he needed to eventually figure out how to act normal around the taller man. He would have to figure it out soon since they would both most likely be groomsmen.
Kuroo needed to find common ground if he was going to learn to let go. Even so, he couldn't help but see how far he could push. There was no harm in testing the waters.
"You know, you could've texted me for a good place if you had a craving." He tried not to sound smug, but Tsukishima's face gave away his obvious annoyance. "I'm willing to share my secret spots..if you ask nicely." Surprisingly, though, Tsukishima's face twisted back to a grin.
"You would know the best places. Can't say I'm surprised, seeing as your part feline." He turned back forward somehow looking more relaxed, "Besides, why would I text you? You'd just send me down to the sketchiest dive-in for below-par tuna."
"That was one time," Kuroo defended, feeling some of the tightness in his chest dissipate. He was easing back to his usual confident self, and watching Tsukishima act like nothing was different was bittersweet. "And the tuna was just a little grey. But it was still good."
"Gross," the younger man shook his head at the memory, trying his best not to smile, "It was still not as embarrassing as you trying to fish for yourself, though."
"Oh! I remember that! Man," his eyes lit up at the memory, "I forgot all about that trip. Hehe, I wasn't very good, was I?"
"You were terrible," the blond chucked, snorting at the thought, "You broke skin when you were trying to hook bait and then fell off the boat."
"Ah, you're right," he laughed and grabbed onto Tsukishima's shoulder and shook him slightly, "and then I freaked out and grabbed you like this!"
"All because your shoe got caught in a kid's fish net."
"I thought it was a shark!"
"In a freshwater lake?" he challenged.
"Well, I was panicky. I wasn't thinking logically at the time," he let go of him, surprised and relieved that he wasn't pushed away.
"Besides," Kuroo wondered how much further he could push, how much thin ice he could be on before he felt Tsukishima pull away again, "I was so distracted by you in your cute little life-vest and reading your beginner's fishing manual."
He saw the younger man's face freeze until he dropped his smile and went back to looking at his hands.
And even though Kuroo destroyed the fragile good mood, he now knew that the awkwardness wasn't one sided.
He now knew where he stood and where the line was between them. He hadn't thought about that trip in years, remembering how he and Tsukishima planned the weekend getaway and spent it with amateur fishing, hiking, and mosquitos. And each other.
Oh, well. The rapport was nice while it lasted.
"What was distracting was the awful sunburn you got." He heard the blond say, looking back at Kuroo as he shook his head, "You never listened to me. If you did, you would have put on sunscreen like I told you to."
Kuroo felt goosebumps on his arms. The ice was thin, but still unbroken.
"Yeah, I remember you telling me a dozen or so times."
"More like 50 times. Watching you peel was not hot," he smirked at the older man.
"Ohohoho? Hot, am I?"
"Were. And definitely not when you were flailing around in water that was only 150 cm deep." He teased. The ravenhead's eye twitched, wanting to defend himself that he was unaware of that at the time. He was quick to recover, though.
"'Were'?" he cooed.
Maybe they weren't lost causes. Maybe they could be okay. Maybe through trial and error, in spite of Kuroo's feelings, they could find some normalcy.
"Yes, you ass..."
Then, the fair-haired boy gave him a shit-eating grin and it felt like Kuroo was 17 again.
"You're treacherous manipulating and terrible bedhead isn't cute at your age."
"I almost believe you," Kuroo smiled.
Whatever they were was over, but Kuroo could make it work, as long as he still had this. As long as he could still be around someone who reminded him how it felt in the moments he was young and spirited. He only spent those moments with the boy he used to call 'Tsukki'.
"You know,"—he didn't want them to stop talking, he wanted to make up for four years of trepidation and coasting around each other—"You're lucky that snarky mouth of yours and your good manners are still cute or you'd be in trouble, Tsukishima."
"Still cute?" he countered, a cheeky grin on his face as he challenged Kuroo who grinned back, only more genuinely.
"Yeah," he looked up and caught golden honey hues, "Still."
He watched as the playfulness left the blond's face and a gentle expression found it's way instead. Kuroo found the line, and found a way back into Tsukishima's eyes, if only until they got their food.
They sat there and talked about their lives. They talked careers from Kuroo's bigshot lawyer job in one of Tokyo's most respected law firms Sasaki & Partners to Tsukishima working on his Ph.D. while working at the esteemed National Museum of Nature and Science. They talked new hobbies like Kuroo's knitting (which got the blond to laugh) and Tsukishima's guitar playing (Kuroo internally melted). They even talked about Bokuto's and Akaashi's wedding and how Tsukishima had accepted to be a groomsman, much to Kuroo's pleasure.
And in the twenty minutes that they sat on the uncomfortable, too small bench, Kuroo hated himself for staying away for so long. Hated himself for forgetting how mind numbing it felt to be in the presence of the younger man. He missed it.
"Congrats on being best man, by the way," Tsukishima mentioned, relaxing as he eased back on the wall, "I'm not going to lie, though. I'm a little worried you and Bokuto-san might get arrested."
"Oh, it's going to happen," Kuroo slightly bumped his shoulder, sending small static currents down his arm, "Don't you worry about that."
"I don't worry. I'm sure you'll find some way to lawyer yourself out of jail."
"You really believe in me? Awe~" Kuroo wished his order never came.
"More like you'll make someone cry and Bokuto-san would offer his autograph." He mocked, not even a little rusty when it came to making fun of Kuroo. But it was alright, he missed this.
He missed all of it.
"You know me too well, Tsukki."
And before he could stop himself, he slipped.
He looked back to see the younger man physically flinch...and Kuroo knew he had crossed the line. The ice was beyond broken. It had melted, and Kuroo was drowning.
"...shima…" he tried to correct himself, but the damage was done. And then a stinging bell was rung and broke the silence. They looked up to the counter and saw the cashier holding two take-out bags.
"Orders up, you two." They stayed still for a moment before Tsukishima slowly got up and walked towards the cashier to pay. Kuroo stayed still for a moment longer until he too went up to pay. He collected his change and turned to see Tsukishima waiting for him by the entrance.
Because he's polite, even with people he didn't like. He's polite to strangers. Because that's what they were to each other now.
He walked as he thanked the workers and made his way to the blond who held the door open. When they got outside in the chilly winter air, they stood next to each other, each facing the opposite direction to their respective homes.
"Well, Tsukishima," he looked back to see the blond still facing away, "I'm this way. I'll see you aro-"
"Tsukki."
Kuroo turned to look at the man who slowly turned to face him, a soft blush dusting his cheeks. Then he looked him in the eyes—golden and bright and filled with memories—with an expression Kuroo couldn't quite place.
"Tsukki."
"Tsukki?" Kuroo repeated, not understanding what to make of his words. He needed clarity. For once.
"Yeah, Tsukki," he stood firm never breaking contact as his blush turned a shade darker. The blond coughed, trying to defuse the tense air around them, "Besides, you calling me anything else is kinda weird, so… Tsukki is fine or whatever..."
Kuroo smiled, as small as the victory was.
"Alright then," tonight was a win for him, tonight they could finally move forward, "Well, we should definitely hang out again. Ya' know, just the two of us." Tonight Kuroo finally felt safe to be around the boy who he had the hots for since he was in high school. He was certain he could finally handle being around the boy who ruined every other guy for him, and that just maybe, being around him more will ease him into a comfortable acceptance of being just friends, and nothing more.
"What do ya' say...Tsukki?"
"Sure," he replied, and then when Kuroo was about to walk away he saw Tsukki bring his hand to scratch the back of his neck, his blush still apparent. Another quirk he did when he was nervous. Kuroo knew his quirks well. "But, I was wondering if you were busy now?" Kuroo tilted his head.
"Well, I'm gonna to catch the train and go home. Why?"
"Don't you live kinda far from here?"
Kuroo wasn't sure what to make of where he assumed the conversation was going. He continued, figuring that Tsukki had a point to make.
"Yeah, but this place is good and it's open late. Why, what's up?"
"Well, it's just," the fact that Tsukki was looking anywhere other than Kuroo was starting to raise alarms in his mind. "Your food will get cold."
"Yeah, but it's still good when I reheat it, so no worries."
"Um, well," Tsukki then placed one hand next to the other looking up to Kuroo's face finally, "My place is only three blocks away."
All the blood rushed to Kuroo's face as he tried to determine if he was actually dreaming.
"...And you could eat there...if you want."
So, in the fragility of their newly found friendship, Tsukishima Kei, in all his glory, invited Kuroo Tetsurou to his place.
Kuroo was strong willed and sometimes proud, but when it came to the blond boy who stood before him—who ruined him—he was nothing more than a weak man.
And that's how he found himself walking down a small street on a cold Thursday night to Tsukishima Kei's apartment.
It was a small but homey looking flat. Kuroo had been surprised by the amount of furniture the blond had for such a small place. What was most surprising was how warm and inviting it felt. The sofas were small but they had a rustic brown cushioning and brick orange pillows. He had throw blankets and a rug in each room. He even had a welcome mat, much to Kuroo's teasing. The blond even had plants, small shrubs and spots of green accenting the small corners of the apartment but not too much to overwhelm. Kuroo couldn't help but notice that he also had a flower box on his window sill, pastel tulips framing the glass. Tsukki loved flowers outside windows.
Instead of eating on the small dining table for two, they sat on the ground and ate on the coffee table. Tsukki gave him his own chopsticks instead of the simple take-out ones which he took gratefully. The younger man grabbed them drinks and they ate, comfortable in the each other's company.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" Kuroo asked between mouthfuls of rice.
"Sure. You want something else to drink? I think I have some bee-"
"No, I'm good thanks. I," he swallowed and immediately got nervous. He bit his lip, wondering if it was wishful thinking, "I was wondering..."
"Yeah?" Tsukki teased between sips of water.
"Well, do you—and it's okay if you don't, because if you did I'd be surprised and all but—"
"What is it Kuroo-san?" he asked sharply, giving off a hint of curiosity to the ravenhead's question. Kuroo smiled wide, teeth still biting his bottom lip. He tried to ignore his butterflies when he noticed Tsukki's eyes watching his mouth.
"You wouldn't still have the 'DinoCat' playlist...would you?"
Kuroo had been 19 and Tsukki 17. At the time, the younger boy and he were traveling from Tokyo and Miyagi constantly, finding time for their confusing but exciting friendship. One day, he and Tsukki were both on the train back to Tokyo when Kuroo had asked to listen to the music he always saw Tsukki listening to on his headphones. With little reluctance and a cute blush, he shared some earphones with Kuroo as the rode the train back to his place. The next day, Kuroo had made a playlist on Tsukki's phone of the songs that he liked. So that way, when he would come to see Kuroo, he would listen to them and think of him. It was fun in the moment, neither imagining that it would be something they would end up doing at the beginning of every month for the duration of their relationship. It was one small detail of many, one small thing that was theirs.
To his surprise, a small laugh escaped the blond's mouth. He shook his head and slowly got up and made his way to his room. After a minute, he came back out with his phone in hand. He turned on his stereo to a low setting and sat back down next to Kuroo. He then faced the screen to the brunet and showed him that he did, in fact, still have it. In bold letters, he saw the 'DinoCat' playlist with a star next to it and a date showing that it had last been updated two days ago.
"It has Bluetooth so you can play it without a cord." Tsukki handed him the phone, blush still present.
"Daaaamn! I didn't think you still had this! Does it still have the old stuff?" Tsukki nodded. Kuroo felt giddy as he went through the huge list of songs. Then he caught sight of an alternative 80s English song he remembered from years ago. When he heard the first few notes (of bagpipes, no less), he looked up to see Tsukki chew the inside of his cheek.
"You have to show me all the new songs soon, Tsukki."
"It's a lot of songs, though."
"I know."
And in a moment between the familiar tempo and the still hot food, it felt like nothing had changed—like they had gone back in time. Tsukki looked down to his food, a shy smile breaking on his face. Kuroo tried his best—and failed—to not hold on to hope that it was because of him, of the idea of there being a next time. And with the soft music playing around them, it all felt like they were back in volleyball and at training camp, back in their dorm rooms, back to listening to music on the train and holding hands. It felt exactly the same.
"So," Kuroo was finally where he wanted to be. He didn't want to ever go home, "Tell me more about your horny co-workers who always insist on doing 'inventory' together."
And as they talked more about themselves, Kuroo couldn't stop the warm feeling from bubbling up and was reminded of past lives.
Of a cocky captain and an apprehensive freshman who he couldn't stop thinking about.
It felt like old times. It was all the same—their conversation light and full of witty commentary and jokes, the dinosaur figurines displayed in plain site as Kuroo asked for fun facts of each different one, their hands mere centimeters away slowly inching toward the other, Tsukki's flushed face. Everything felt exactly the same—
And Kuroo realized what he was doing there.
He realized exactly why he was invited over.
Why after years of silence and avoidance he was finally close enough to kiss the boy. As Tsukki kept talking, Kuroo wondered how many other guys Tsukki invited over for a casual meal. Kuroo wondered how many guys Tsukki had shown his smart-alecky smirk to, how many guys got to see him bare and raw.
Kuroo had been avoiding the man for years, but he was still aware that he had dated from time to time. As if Kuroo had been a bad influence, he knew that Tsukki had never been one for serious relationships either. He would sometimes hear of a guy who Tsukki would see frequently or one that would date the blond for a few weeks.
None of them lasted, just like none lasted for Kuroo. But he doubted they had the same reasons. He honestly doubted that Tsukki would ever think so much about him.
He wondered how many times he wished he could back to nights like this one, one full of flirty glances and warm feelings building.
It was always the same.
In a moment of lapse judgment and momentary weakness, he had returned to being 21 and disposable.
What's worse was that he was the idiot who thought there was more to what was right in front of him.
Even as good as it felt to be back to where they were, he couldn't do it again.
Everyone who knew him knew that Kuroo was only for casual and no-strings relations, but this was different. Always was, even when he was too blind or stubborn to see it. He couldn't go back to falling in a pit of self-delusions and denial. He couldn't go back to crying in the dark thousands of miles away from home because of a boy. He couldn't go back to pretending. Not even for Tsukki.
And he would fall right back into the rabbit-hole if he stayed in the indulgence a moment longer, no matter how much he didn't ever want to go home. No matter how much he wanted to stay and listen to 80s alternative and find his way back into Tsukki's life. He had to leave.
"So it's kinda exciting," the blond bit his lip, unaware that Kuroo was no longer listening. He didn't want to interrupt Tsukki when he was talking, but Kuroo was going to suffocate if he stayed any longer. " And..Well, because I sent a sample of my dissertation, I actually got invited to a fellowship at the end of the year to Chicago University and I'm not sure if I shoul-"
"Hey, um, Tsukki," Kuroo tried to find his voice as he looked around, not wanting to look at the other man's face, feeling his willpower slip off of him like water, "I actually just—I didn't realize the time. And, I... I should be heading home." He hated how weak he sounded, stammering over his words.
"Oh, um okay," Tsukki looked at the clock hanging high on the wall, "but it's kind of late."
"Oh, yeah, it's okay, I'll just catch the late train." He felt his palms twitch, the back of his neck starting to sweat.
"Don't you live far?"
"I've done this trip before. Really, it's fine." The room was too hot, he needed to leave.
"But you could get mugged this late."
"Don't worry, Tsukki," he chided, "If I see someone suspicious, I'll stand all tough so they don't mess with me." He allowed himself to smirk for effect, "And if there's more than one, I'll call a cab," he wavered and looked at the blond who had a neutral face on, "I promise."
And as he moved to rise to his feet, he felt a lone, slender hand touch his. He froze at the contact, eyes glued to the tentative hand slowly inch forward to completely cover his right hand. And with a light squeeze, Kuroo didn't know if he would make it to the door alive. He slowly looked up to the owner's face, surprised to see him staring straight at him, his tongue licking his lips nervously. Another quirk Kuroo has cataloged over the years.
"What if...I don't want you to leave?"
If it were anyone else, Kuroo would brush it off as a joke. If it were Bokuto, they would pretend kiss to the point of ridiculousness. If it were Kenma, Kuroo would be making tea and pestering him to tell him what was wrong. But it wasn't just anybody else, it was Tsukishima Kei, in all his glory, asking Kuroo to stay. And he didn't know what to do. He was frozen in place.
Frozen, as he saw Tsukki glance back down to his lips, eyes half-lidded from embarrassment and lust (uncertain and bold). He stayed still as Tsukki moved forward, closing the small space between them. And he couldn't help but hold his breath when he smelled his shampoo (smelled of both suds and honey), their lips inches away.
His head hurt, and his eyelids felt heavy. He tilted his head to the side, to ease the pain and closed his eyes, unable to resist the weight. And he felt soft, warm, familiar lips press against his, tentative and unsure. He couldn't move.
He had dreamt of this moment countless of times. He had dreamt of holding each other's hand and New Years with each other's families, of dates and cuddling, of finally having Tsukki in every way.
But if he kissed back, he would only have a part of him—one that he knew too well. And it would all end the same, with him as nothing but a warm body and all the heartache. It would all end in tears. So he pushed him back.
Tsukki's face was bright red, his eyes fluttered open when he felt Kuroo push him backward, furrowing his brows together in confusion. He looked at Kuroo, his expression full of embarrassing regret, and Kuroo wished he kissed him back.
"I'm sorry," Tsukki backed away and looked outside, "I'll call you a cab." But before he could get up, Kuroo held onto his elbow, keeping him in place.
He held on because in spite of the ache and in spite of the turmoil he'll feel tomorrow, he could never stand to see Tsukki look so sad.
As he turned to look at the older man, he saw Tsukki, for all that he was in that moment. He saw the man who never liked to feel rejected. He saw the 15-year-old boy who was too scared to invest in something because he was scared of not being able to move on. And he hoped that when he looked at the expression on Tsukki's face he saw four years of regret and old times too.
So, when Tsukki finally looked face to face at Kuroo, he held a blank neutral expression. Kuroo's heart sank.
But he was a weak man, and he needed a taste. Like an addict, he needed a fix. Four clean years down the drain by one puzzling, enigmatic kiss.
So Kuroo's hold on his arm tightened ever so gently, pulling the blond towards him, Kuroo closing the small space between them. As their lips were mere inches apart, he could see the younger man's skeptic look roam across Kuroo's face, wondering if he was being toyed with. Kuroo feared the same.
But he was weak, and lonely, and pathetic. His hazardous yearning taking over, needing a fix. He missed this.
As destructive and cruel as it was, he missed all of it. He missed him.
He pressed their lips together, trepidation and overwhelming uncertainty fresh against the friction. After a moment of stillness they slowly open their mouths and their tongues tasted one another. They moved slow and desperate, Kuroo closing his eyes as Tsukki tentatively lifted his arms to gently wrap around his neck. Kuroo swallowed a groan when he felt Tsukki press his chest flush up against Kuroo's.
The older man, however, had cataloged years worth of all that was Tsukki. He knew what quirks he did when he was nervous, when he was upset. He knew how warm Tsukki liked his showers and hot he liked his tea. Kuroo knew how to make Tsukki his, even for one night.
He pushed the blond down on the rug, pressing his body down onto the slim, hazed-eyed man as he gently rocked his hips expertly. He earned some lip biting and a slight pull on the back of his hair, giving the blond access to kiss his collarbone quickly before returning to his mouth, tongues dancing.
Tsukki still had his glasses, but they sat low on his nose as he only kept looking at Kuroo with half lidded eyes. The ravenhead moved his hands against the younger man's rib cage, slowly reaching for the hem of his shirt. He felt Tsukki's abdominal muscles contract at the warm contact once Kuroo found his way underneath the fabric, fingers pressed slight pressure as he traveled up and down—every curve and crevice hot and soothing, each inch of skin familiar, each flex he felt beneath his palms reacting like muscle memory.
Without much grace or patience, Tsukki separated and quickly yank his shirt off completely, Kuroo following his lead as he threw the clothing across the room, returning to swollen lips and massaging Tsukki's bare torso.
Kuroo snaked his hand down between them, sliding his hand underneath Tsukki's waistband. When his hand pressed roughly against the blond's already half-hard length, he saw those half-lidded eyes roll back at the sudden contact, making his body arch beautifully. Kuroo shimmied down Tsukki's pants for better access, thrilled when he saw the front of his underwear transparent and soaked through. Tsukki's breath hitched against his mouth as he slid the underwear down slowly, the front of his sweaty palm pressing down as he glided down his length.
He went slow, just like he remembered Tsukki liked it. He held on to him as Tsukki gripped his shoulder, short nails lightly scraping his skin, leaving faint red marks in his wake—leaving his imprint that would last only for a while. He watched the boy slacken his jaw, not bothering to hold back his voice as Kuroo started to stroke with his fist tense against him.
He missed this.
"AH~Kuroo-san..."
God, he missed all of this.
"I got you Tsukki..I got you..." Kuroo felt Tsukki's hands glide down his abdomen until they started undoing his belt. He pushed down against his hips—like the disposable garbage he was. He lowered his head to the side of Tsukki's face, biting the skin behind his ear as he whispered heavily trying to take in all he could, "..Tsukki.."
He sucked on the flesh, earning heavy pants. He continued to jerk his hand, pushing the boy just enough on the edge without tipping over. He was going to take his time watching him unravel. He's waited long enough to see it again.
"Kuro—ah…" He tightened his hand as he felt his belt come apart, fingers working his zipper. He felt himself coming undone by the man underneath him, cold hands gently stroking his member, tentative and sluggish. He was having trouble finding his voice, harsh huffs escaping his mouth as he bit down ruthlessly leaving his mark on the pale, glowing skin.
He was completely giving in. Scared beyond belief of the second chance he was getting. Knowing it would be short lived, yet savoring all that he was given.
"Fuck, Tsukki…"
Scared of how easily they fell right back to each other. How Kuroo remembered exactly how the blond preferred his pacing—slow and burning. How Tsukki remembered just how rough the older man liked his kisses—punishing and passionate. The latter's moans starting to come out more shallow and his grip on the older man's shoulder kept twitching, notifying Kuroo that he was close. Tsukki's other hand glided against Kuroo's tip, spreading the rich wetness across his palm, fondling his way to his base. He started pumping slow, making Kuroo's own grip on the younger man to become more erratic.
He watched as Tsukki kept choking at the gasps and groans escaping his voice, whines exciting him as Kuroo peppered smaller bruises along the pale neck between his own moans. He watched as Tsukki tried to fight his undoing. Kuroo hoped it was the same as him. He hoped they both didn't want this to end. After so long, he needed to bask in all of the present fantasies and forget about what would happen after tonight.
After he was thrown away.
"Ke—Kei..."
But that was later. That was tomorrow. Right now, he had four years of to make up for. He only had tonight to relive as much as he could.
"Tetsu..."
And in the warm comfort of the man he's always wanted, he felt 17 again. He felt scared and stupid and whole. He fell back into old times and bad habits. Back to heartache and strawberry kisses. Back to comfortable delusion and looming rejection. He fell back to the black hole that was Tsukishima Kei.
"Kei."
They were never good at being friends to begin with.
"Tetsurou."
Sooooooooo, that happened. Seriously though, I'm not experienced in writing smut, at all. I am very much a noob. And my noob self would really appreciate the constructive criticism. But other than that, I was in such a groove while writing this chapter. We finally get to see our lord and savior Iwaizumi and the blueberry king Kageyama. They will be regulars so please tell me what you thought of them. As for Tsukki and Kuroo… well they are not done. Not by a long shot (seeing as this story is first and foremost a KurooTsukki fic). But they will share the limelight with others. I make ZERO promises for everyone having a happy ending, but what I can guarantee is that everyone will get the ending that they deserve. But that's a long while away. Until then, I hope all you readers stick around and continue to support my novice writing and enthusiastic continuation of this story. Thank you. Chapter 5 coming soon!
Shout outs to the amazing people who have commented and reviewed thus far:
KisunaFuji, studiotrigger (GunsForTheMafia), ManifestHoe, Yamiyoru, bubblesandwich, and "some dude"
Also thank you to all the people who have left Kudos, Subscribed, Bookmarked, Followed, and Faved. You're all rad!
Thank Perlaparrot, everyone. ( New slave-editor/beta reader still needed)
(She's so done with my shit, guys.)
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~The Hive in June~