Title: Because Going to College Together Doesn't Actually Make Love Easier
Summary: So, Tooru might have been sleeping with Daishou. So, maybe he was only sleeping with Daishou because Iwaizumi was dating Bokuto. And maybe Daishou was still hopelessly in love with Kuroo, who maybe hated Daishou's guts. Not that is mattered because according to Terushima, Kuroo was crushing on Kenma, who was sleeping with Akaashi. It wasn't like anybody was hurting anyone else. Right?
Or the one where everyone is at the same college, equally confused, and making equally bad decisions.
Warnings: Slash, meaning boyXboy.
Pairings: Oikawa Tooru/Iwaizumi Hajime
Kuroo Tetsurou/Daishou Suguru
Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Author's Note: This is two parts at about 14,000 words. It's mainly focused on Oikawa/Iwaizumi and Kuroo/Daishou. Akaashi/Bokuto are really more of a side relationship though they do work though a misunderstanding.
Disclaimer: I am writing this for fun and not profit. I do not own Haikyuu! or any of the characters therein.
Part 1
~~Oikawa~~
Tooru rocked his hips forward, his knuckles white against the dark headboard. Daishou's hands were tight on his thighs, and Tooru only half wondered if there would be bruises later. There usually weren't. Daishou had never been big on leaving marks, even after Tooru said he didn't mind. Even when Tooru sort of wanted Iwa-chan to see.
Daishou lifted his hips, thrusting straight up into Tooru's prostate. He bit his lips, his balls tightening as he came across Daishou's stomach. The hands on his thighs tightened and Daishou followed him over. Tooru wondered what time it was. Iwa-chan wasn't supposed to be back until late tonight. If he even came home at all.
He rolled off Daishou, grimacing at the wet slip of his cock. Daishou made a low grunting, grumbling sound, already shifting to the side to pull the condom off.
"You want to cuddle?" Tooru asked. Daishou flung the condom into the trash, stretching his legs out across the bed until his ankle touched Tooru's.
"I'd rather not," he answered. "I like to sleep without being suffocated."
"Sucks to be you."
"Usually you do the sucking, actually."
"Hey," Tooru said, smacking Daishou across the shoulder. Daishou smirked up at the ceiling, and Tooru immediately realized he'd been baited. His conversations with Daishou were always so different than talking to Iwa-chan. With Daishou, everything was a challenge. A contest between the two of them.
Tooru could still remember when he'd first bumped into Daishou, both of them a little too drunk at some party he couldn't even remember who invited him to anymore. He'd lost Iwa-chan on his way to the bathroom, and Daishou had insulted him with that goading smirk tilted across his lips. Tooru hadn't been able to walk away without responding in kind.
Daishou had ended up sucking him off in the bathroom, the thump of base overwhelming in the background. And when they'd walked out to find Iwa-chan standing right there, Daishou had just winked and sauntered off. Iwa-chan had never said anything about it, and it took Tooru an embarrassingly long time to realize it was because he didn't care. It was because he was dating Bokuto. As in love as he was with Iwa-chan, Iwa-chan just didn't feel the same way about him.
In hindsight calling Daishou the night of this realization had maybe not been a good idea. He was still embarrassed when he thought back to the way he'd sobbed for a good ten minutes into Daishou's sheets, the cum still wet between them. Thankfully, Daishou hadn't held it against him. Maybe because Daishou was lost on Kuroo Tetsurou. He'd never said anything about it, but Tooru didn't sleep with someone for almost a month without noticing that they spent most of their time looking at someone else's ass.
"We should order in," Tooru said, swinging his leg over Daishou's hips. "Watch a movie and—"
"Is Iwaizumi-san out tonight?" Daishou interrupted. He shoved Tooru off him, doing that lazy stretch of his arms over his head that always made his abs pop out an obscene amount. He was hot really. It was too bad he wasn't Iwa-chan.
"Who cares where Iwa-chan is?" Tooru answered, running a hand up Daishou's stomach. They both had pretty good stamina. Maybe if he played this right, he'd be able to go another round. Stay the night. Avoid having to find out whether Iwa-chan actual came home or see the way water dripped down the line of shoulders as he stepped out of the shower or wonder if he'd roll his eyes before taking the frying pan out of Tooru's hand in the morning.
"You never want to spend time with me unless he's with Bokuto," Daishou said, and he rolled out from under Tooru's hand. He bent down to retrieve his underwear, his back a pale curve in the fading light.
From this angle it was easy to see how different Daishou was from Iwa-chan. Daishou was slim and beautiful, all his strength compacted together in a dangerous sort of grace. It was impossible to tell when he'd strike. When Tooru was around him, it was easier to fall into Daishou's sharp tongue and ignore the fact that he wanted wide shoulders and artless manners.
"I spent time with you all the time," Oikawa said, moving onto his stomach to take up the whole bed.
"At school. You don't usually hang around after sex."
"Oh," Tooru muttered, suddenly feeling intensely uncomfortable laying stark naked played across Daishou's bed. Tooru didn't usually hang around after sex, but he didn't exactly want to leave right then either. Daishou sauntered out of the room, his shoulders a tense twitch around him neck.
Tooru rolled off the bed, reaching for his own underwear. He wasn't sure why Daishou was choosing now to complain about whether he stayed or left. It had never been an issue before. Tooru stepped into the living room, resting his hip against the doorway of the bedroom. Daishou sighed from his spot in the kitchen, already pulling open the beer in his hand. Maybe Daishou's temper didn't have anything to do with him.
"Is Dai-chan feeling neglected?" Tooru asked, and Daishou set his drink down, the sharp click loud between them.
"At least Iwaizumi-san can stand the sight of you," Daishou said. Tooru took a step further into the room, feeling a little like he'd stepped in the middle of a mine field. This wasn't how this was supposed to work. Daishou was supposed to be sharp and sure and tell Tooru he was the idiot. Tooru didn't know how handle the position switch. He didn't comfort people. That had always been Iwa-chan's job.
"Did…" He swallowed. "Did something happen with Kuroo-chan?"
Daishou mouthed Kuroo's name, shaking his head with an almost disgusted expression. He picked the beer back up, taking a long drink. "No," he said. "Nothing ever happens with Kuroo."
Tooru hesitated. He should just leave. Daishou obviously wasn't in the mood for company, but one look at the door told him how much he didn't want to be at his own apartment without Iwa-chan, and Tooru was just selfish enough to care about his own desire more than Daishou's.
"Come on, Dai-chan," Tooru said, plastering on a smile. Iwa-chan would have seen through it in a second. He would have called Tooru out on his bullshit. Daishou just tilted his head. "Let's order in. Take a shower, go for round two, make a night of it!"
Daishou rolled his eyes at the way Tooru fluttered his lashes, but he didn't say no.
Sunlight shining in his eyes woke Tooru up. He rolled over, accidently kicking the other person in his bed. Iwa-chan groaned beside him as Tooru reached for him. It was weird that they weren't cuddling. When they shared the bed, they always cuddled, and it was weird that Iwa-chan was so far away, and that he wasn't wearing a shirt as Tooru ran his hand along Iwa-chan's back. It was weird that Iwa-chan's chest was so slim and his abs weren't—
Tooru recoiled, sitting up abruptly. Daishou buried his face in his pillow, his hair falling across his eyes. The sun was streaming through his window, casting shadows across the floor. Tooru hadn't meant to stay so late. Iwa-chan was probably wondering where he was. He stretched, his eyes flicking toward the clock—
He scrambled out of the bed, almost tumbling to the ground as he pulled on his underwear. His jeans were in the left corner and his shirt was a wrinkled mess half under the bed. He groaned with the shirt in his hands. He had class in eight minutes. He didn't have time to run back to his apartment, and he couldn't wear what he wore yesterday. That was just... ugh.
"Go back to sleep," Daishou muttered, pulling his blanket over his head, and Tooru blinked at him.
"Can I borrow a shirt?" he asked.
"What?" Daishou sat up, his eyes red. "No!"
"Thanks!" Tooru answered, grabbing a dark grey shirt out of Daishou's closet and pulling it on as he ran out of the room. Daishou shouted something uncomplimentary from the bedroom but Tooru choose to ignore him, taking his phone off the counter. It felt heavier than it usually did as he slid it into his pocket, but he was already running out the door before he had a chance to think about it.
Daishou's apartment was a good five-minute walk from campus, leaving Tooru with barely any time to spare as he slid into his seat in his class. He pulled his phone out to check the time and blinked when a message from Terushima Yuuji popped up, blocking the screen. Sure, he didn't dislike Terushima, but he wasn't exactly on texting-to-ask-his-weekend-plans terms with him.
"Good morning," the professor said, and Tooru shoved his phone into his pocket.
~~Kuroo~~
The ball smacked against Tetsurou's arms, flying across the court in a way that made him grimace. Oikawa laughed, his voice high and satisfied from across the gym, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes from beside him. Tetsurou was really starting to hate Oikawa's serves. They were hard enough to receive on a Oikawa's bad days, throw Iwaizumi hitting his sets for thirty minutes beforehand, three consecutive service aces in a row, and Oikawa was basically vibrating as he sucked up the attention.
"Alright, cooldown stretches everyone!" Coach called, and Tetsurou shook out his arms, half-disappointed and half-relieved. He'd wanted to return at least one of Oikawa's serves back in his face.
"But I was just getting warmed up," Oikawa grumbled, and Iwaizumi threw a volleyball at him, yelling some combination of insults that were too ridiculous to even be insulting. Oikawa shrieked, darting across the gym, and even Bokuto blinked over at them.
Tetsurou didn't bother moving from the middle of the gym, pulling his foot up to stretch his quad. Most of their upperclassman were already packing up and getting ready to take the gym down. Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Bokuto, and Tetsurou had been the only ones practicing into the final minutes. They probably would have kept going in they didn't have a game this weekend that their coach had threatened to drag them out of the gym screaming if they didn't rest properly for. He and Bokuto had tried sneaking in after hours anyway, but the doors had been locked every time they showed up.
"Stretch, crappykawa!" Iwaizumi yelled, throwing another ball. Tetsurou switched legs.
"Hey, bro!" Bokuto said, his voice a pitch too loud for how close he was standing.
"Bro?!" Tetsurou answered, letting his foot down.
"We hanging out tonight?" Bokuto asked, and it was only then that Tetsurou noticed the phone hanging haphazardly from his hang, lit up on the messaging screen. There were several outgoing messages, all unanswered, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out who Bokuto had been messaging.
"Sure," Tetsurou said. "Whatever you want."
"Cool!" Bokuto said. "I was thinking—"
"You're supposed to put the balls away!" Oikawa squealed as Iwaizumi launched another ball at his head. "Away!"
"I don't see you putting any balls away," Iwaizumi answered, and Oikawa flipped his hair, the horrible half smile he saved just for Iwaizumi dancing across his lips. Tetsurou turned his head away, moving to help take down the net. He wondered if Oikawa looked at Daishou like that. He wondered how Daishou smiled back at him.
It didn't take much longer for the gym to be completely cleaned up. Oikawa was the first in the showers, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes when he was the last one out. Bokuto chattered about something he'd learned in his biology class today, taking his sweet time slicking his hair back up. By the time Oikawa was out of the shower, Iwaizumi and Tetsurou were pretty much just loitering around.
"Ready," Bokuto said, zipping up his bag, and Tetsurou swung his own bag over his shoulder.
"That's not your shirt," Iwaizumi said, his tone dark. Tetsurou hesitated, glancing over, and sure enough the shirt Oikawa had slipped on couldn't have been his. Oikawa wore fancy shirts that matched his eyes or his shoes or whatever. He wore shirts that sat pressed against his body and accented the way he moved. He never looked anything but completely put together, and the dark grey t-shirt he was wearing just wasn't that.
"Oh, no," Oikawa answered, his cheeks flushing a dark scarlet. He ducked his head, fiddling with his phone. "I, uh, I had to borrow Dai-chan's clothes this morning."
"Right," Iwaizumi said, his voice flat. He picked up his bag, turning his own face away from Oikawa. "Well, I'll see you."
"You're not heading home?" Oikawa asked, his eyes snapping up.
"No, I'm hanging out with Bokuto tonight, right Bokuto?"
"Huh." Bokuto blinked, looking up from his phone. "Oh, yeah."
"Oh." Oikawa slid his bag onto his shoulder. "Well, have fun." Tetsurou wondered if he meant for it to sound like a challenge.
Iwaizumi nodded, turning abruptly out the door with Bokuto trailing behind him, and Tetsurou still hesitated. He should just leave. Iwaizumi and Oikawa's relationship wasn't his business. Oikawa and Daishou's relationship wasn't his business. He shouldn't still be reeling from the shock of Iwaizumi Hajime sitting across from Bokuto at some trashy party talking about how his best friend was sleeping with Daishou Suguru.
The worst part was that Tetsurou could actually see it. They were both beautiful and composed and so, so fake.
"Are you going back tonight?" Tetsurou asked, because he was an idiot. The biggest idiot. Why did he even open his mouth?
"What?" Oikawa frowned, his good mood from earlier completely gone now.
"To Daishou's," Tetsurou said, clearing his throat against the frankly embarrassing crack in his voice. "Were you planning on going back?"
"Oh." Oikawa continued to fiddle with his phone, his expression tight. "I wasn't planning on it, but I accidently stole his phone this morning, and I don't know his password, and I kind of need my own phone, so… I guess…" he trailed off, setting his face in that strange smile that Tetsurou could never quite tell whether was real or not. "I guess, I will be."
Tetsurou adjusted his strap across his shoulder. He should just go. Bokuto and Iwaizumi were probably waiting for him. Knowing Bokuto he'd probably left his key locked inside the apartment again, so it wasn't like they could just chill without him, but it was so hard to walk away.
Because the thing was, as annoying as Oikawa could be, it was hard to hate him. He was selfish and arrogant and an attention hog, but he cared so much. About Volleyball. About Iwaizumi. And maybe about Daishou.
"Try 147369," Tetsurou said. "Daishou always uses the same patterns for his password."
He pushed the door to the club room open, listening to Oikawa's soft sigh as Daishou's phone clicked open, and he refused to be jealous.
Yeah, it was hard to hate Oikawa. It was equally hard to like him.
Tetsurou groaned into his pillow as Iwaizumi threw his last card down, the red one staring up into Tetsurou's face. This was the fourth time in a row Iwaizumi had won uno, and Tetsurou was really beginning to consider the idea that he was cheating. The guy did live with Oikawa after all. He had to have a few tricks up his sleeve.
"Man," Bokuto muttered. He let his own cards fall to the ground. He pouted, his eyes on his phone sitting next to him. He was beginning to wilt, even his hair drooping down around his face.
"Akaashi still hasn't texted?" Iwaizumi asked. Iwaizumi always-jump-straight-to-the-point Hajime. It was easy to see why he was so good for Oikawa. Sometimes, it was even nice to have him around.
"Nah," Bokuto answered. "He's probably just busy."
"Why don't you just text him?" Tetsurou asked, and Bokuto wilted even more, his shoulders turning in on him like Tetsurou has just asked which of his dogs died.
"He's with Kenma," Bokuto said.
"Oh," Iwaizumi answered, promptly turning to shuffle the uno cards. Which, ok, not cool. If Iwaizumi was going to ask, then Iwaizumi could at least deal with the damage.
Tetsurou could still remember the night Terushima had told Bokuto about Akaashi and Kenma. Tetsurou had been shocked. And a lot disbelieving. There was no way Akaashi was in love with anyone but Bokuto, but Terushima had told some story about walking in on them and Akaashi kicking him out with a vow of secrecy. According to him, they'd been all over each other.
Bokuto had then proceeded to get raging drunk, ignore everything Tetsurou said, rationalizing that they were sharing an apartment, and proceeding to complain about all his problems to one equally drunk Iwaizumi Hajime, who just so happened to also be in love with his best friend, who just so happened to also be seeing someone else. When the two of them weren't whining about their respective love lives, they were actually fun to be around.
"Again?" Iwaizumi asked, already beginning to deal the cards out.
"No way!" Tetsurou answered, yanking the cards out of his hands. "I'm dealing this time."
"Whatever." Iwaizumi shrugged, as if he really didn't care. Tetsurou saw through him in a minute. Iwaizumi wasn't near as slick as Daishou and—
Tetsurou forcibly turned his attention away from that line of thought. He threw Bokuto a card. He was determined to have fun tonight.
"I appreciate you letting me stay tonight," Iwaizumi said, inspecting his cards. "I can't take another night of Oikawa sneaking into the apartment in the middle of the night smelling like sex."
Tetsurou's hand twitched, the card he flicked at Bokuto spinning off to the side. Smelling like sex. It would be easier to have fun if everyone else would get on board with the plan.
"Are you ever going go back, bro?" Tetsurou asked, because he was an idiot. "You've been spending a lot of time here. Isn't Oikawa going to think you're avoiding him?"
"I can't avoid him when I never see him anyway," Iwaizumi answered. "I swear he lives in Daishou's apartment these days."
"You don't think Akaashi is avoiding me, do you?" Bokuto asked, flicking his eyes toward his phone again.
"He just started college. Give him time to adjust," Iwaizumi answered, his voice distracted. Tetsurou fiddled with his cards, ignoring them as Iwaizumi reassured Bokuto. Iwaizumi was a little too good at reassuring people. Maybe it was all his practice dealing with Oikawa's antics, but he was always so easygoing about Bokuto's mood swings.
So yeah, Iwaizumi was nice to have around. The only problem was that he was in love with the guy who was a constant reminder that the guy Tetsurou loved hated his guts. Tetsurou really should have been over this by now. He'd been crushing on Daishou since middle school, and even after their rivalry, even after Daishou had dated plenty of girls and made his feelings for Tetsurou clear in no uncertain terms, he hadn't been able to shake it. He really was an idiot.
"It's your turn, Iwaizumi," Tetsurou called. "Prepare to have your butt kicked."
Iwaizumi laughed, his eyes tight as he laid down a yellow skip card. Bokuto barely even noticed his turn being skipped, his eyes still on his phone.
~~Oikawa~~
Tooru barely knocked on the door before Daishou yanked it open. Daishou shoved Tooru's phone into his chest, ignoring Tooru's scramble to catch it as he snatched his own out of Tooru's hand. He looked annoyed, swiping his phone opening with an impatient flick of his fingers.
"You look tense, Dai-chan," Tooru said, leaning against his doorframe. Daishou let out an impatient huff, not moving from his place in the doorway.
"I'm not in the mood, Oikawa."
"In the mood for what?" Tooru asked, fluttering his eyelashes innocently. He stepped closer to Daishou. He could still remember the way Iwa-chan had practically snapped that he'd be going to Bokuto's, his eyes averted.
"I was just going to ask if you wanted dinner," Tooru said. Daishou narrowed his eyes, and for a long second Tooru thought he was going to make a comment about Iwa-chan being busy again. Which had nothing to do with anything. Nothing at all.
But Daishou just turned on his heel and walked away, leaving the door open behind him.
ASDFGHJKL
The thing was that neither of them were particularly good cooks, so when Tooru suggested they make something, Daishou just cast him a spiteful look. Which was unwarranted. Tooru made completely edible rice.
"What?" Tooru asked. "You don't think you can do it?"
Daishou set his phone down carefully, his eyes narrowing until they were barely slits across his face, and Tooru smiled across the kitchen at him, wide and mocking and completely fake. Daishou was almost as competitive as he was. It made for an interesting combination of insults and baiting during sex, but mostly it just made it easy to fall into the simple challenge of competing with someone who wouldn't hold back.
It was a distraction Tooru needed more than he liked to admit.
"Yeah, right, Oikawa," Daishou answered.
Which led to two half cooked bowls of ramen with charred pork nearly forty minutes later.
"I didn't even know it was possible for food to taste this bad," Daishou said, and he looked genuinely offended as he pushed his bowl away from him.
"It would have been perfect if you hadn't let the pot boil over," Tooru answered, dutifully eating like it wasn't some horrible concoction.
"You're right," Daishou said, and Tooru hesitated as Daishou threw a piece of ramen at him. "My dinner would have been perfect if you hadn't stolen my phone."
"That doesn't even make sense!" Tooru shrieked, scrambling to brush the offending ramen out of his hair.
"I can't believe you," Daishou answered, throwing another piece at him. "I couldn't figure out your password to text myself. I was on the verge of showing up to volleyball practice just to switch back!" He paused, his eyes turning sharp. "How did you figure out mine?"
"I didn't," Tooru answered, suddenly feeling like he was one the verge of dangerous territory. "Kuroo-chan knew it."
"Kuroo?" Daishou's back straightened, his expression unreadable.
"He said you always choose the same patterns."
"Oh," Daishou said, his voice soft and far away. Tooru opened his mouth to say something else, maybe about how Kuroo's eyes had softened when he started talking about Daishou. Maybe that Daishou shouldn't be so sure he didn't have a choice. Maybe something stupid about having rice in his hair.
"I should really change it up if that idiot is figuring me out," Daishou interrupted, picking his untouched bowl of ramen up as he stood and walked away.
Tooru didn't know why he thought Iwa-chan would be in the apartment when he got back from Daishou's that night. Or by the time he went to sleep that night. He didn't know why he figured there would be some sign Iwa-chan was there—or at least had been there by the time he got up the next morning.
Iwa-chan's bed was the same neatly made pile of covers it had been yesterday, his room and clothes and toothbrush untouched. Oikawa didn't see the clothes he'd been wearing yesterday, and he didn't know why he was surprised. He spent the night at Daishou's house, and they weren't even dating.
He didn't bother to dry his hair after his shower, letting it curl around his ears as he trudged into the kitchen in his most comfortable alien shirt and underwear. He didn't have class for another couple hours, and if Iwa-chan wasn't even going to bother to show up then he wasn't going to put pants on in his own—
The key turned in the door behind him, and he froze. The next second the apartment door swung open, reveling Iwa-chan. He didn't seem to notice Tooru right away, shutting the door behind him and bending down to take his shoes off. He obviously hadn't come home last night. He was wearing the same clothes with bags under his eyes and a stiff set to his shoulders. He hadn't showered this morning, and his hair lay slightly flattened from sleep.
Tooru set his cereal on the counter and debated his chances of just running straight to his room without being seen. They didn't look that good actually.
"Just getting in?" he called, forcing his voice to pitch cheerful. Iwa-chan jerked in surprise before stepping further into the apartment. His eyes trailed over Tooru, and if Tooru wanted to imagine them lingering a beat longer on his bare legs, no one else needed to know.
"What?" Iwai-chan asked, coming to a stop at the kitchen counter. He glanced down at the cereal Tooru was pouring, frowning and looking seconds away from some remark about eating healthy.
"I said," Tooru answered, smirking over at him. "It looks like you had a fun night, Iwa-chan."
"I guess." Iwa-chan shrugged. "It was a late night."
"Oh, for me too," Tooru blurted, and Iwa-chan grimaced, and it shouldn't have sent a pang down his stomach that Iwa-chan believed him so easily. It wasn't like it wasn't the truth. He had stayed up late. Waiting for Iwa-chan to get back.
"Anyway, I've already had a shower, so feel free to hop in," Tooru said, abandoning his bowl of cereal in favor of the run-for-his-room-plan. Iwa-chan made a disgruntled sound behind him but didn't bother to follow.
Tooru put his back against the door, resting the back of his head against the wood. Iwa-chan had been gone all night. Tooru didn't know why he was surprised. He'd known it would happen from the moment Iwa-chan had first hesitated on his way out of volleyball practice, saying he was going to leave with Bokuto that day. Iwa-chan had barely looked at him as he'd left practice, laughing at some crazy joke with Kuroo and Bokuto.
Tooru let himself slide to the floor, listening to the sound of running water from the bathroom. Iwa-chan had spent more and more time with Bokuto, going over to his house and getting back increasingly late. He'd started going to parties with him, trying out coffee shops, going to the movies. Tooru wasn't stupid. He'd dated plenty of people to know the signs.
He felt the tears pushing against the back of his eyes as he pressed his face into his knees. It was bad enough that Iwaizumi found someone he wanted to date. Why did he have to force Tooru to consider the possibility that Bokuto was more important to him too?
~~Akaashi~~
Keiji set his phone down, locking the screen. He wasn't going to text Bokuto. If Bokuto hadn't texted him by now, then he was probably busy. Busy with Volleyball and classes. It was the start of a new year, and even if Bokuto was a second year, that didn't mean he had to have everything figured out. It didn't necessarily mean he was too busy with Iwaizumi-san to want to text Keiji.
He picked up his phone, checking his messages again. Kenma looked up from his game, his expression entirely too disapproving for someone who was neglecting his homework when Keiji knew for a fact he had a test today. He put his phone back down, turning back to his textbook. He just needed to focus and—Ping.
Keiji snatched his phone, and he refused to sigh when he saw Terushima's name across his screen, asking about his plans for the day. Keiji couldn't understand why Terushima was so anxious to hang out after the last time. Or the time before that. Or maybe disaster just followed Terushima around, so it was completely normal for him.
They'd met at the beginning of the year, Terushima in Keiji's Advanced English class and when he wasn't doing something stupid, he was surprisingly smart.
A social media message slid across the top of his screen, something about Bokuto Koutarou updating his status. Keiji hesitated before clicking on the message and was greeted by the imagine of Bokuto, Kuroo, and Iwaizumi-san sitting in a circle playing cards. Keiji didn't bother to read the caption as he slid his phone into his pocket.
Studying at the library seemed like a good idea. He just needed a distraction, change of surroundings. He put his textbook into his bag, ignoring the way Kenma's eyes followed him out the door. He'd be able to focus better at the library.
"Akaashi!" a voice called, and Keiji stopped. Terushima ran up to him, his shirt ridding up along the strap of his bag.
"Terushima-san," Keiji answered.
"You didn't answer any of my texts. I thought you might have died."
"Akaashi-kun," Daishou said, sauntering over at a much slower pace. He was in Keiji's Literature class, and he didn't even want to know how Daishou and Terushima knew each other. Or what they got up to when he wasn't around.
"We were just on our way to lunch," Daishou said. "You want to come?"
"I was on my way to the library—"
"Why?" Terushima interrupted, putting his hand on his bag like he was afraid he was forgetting something. "Did we have an English test I'm forgetting about?"
"No, I just—"
"Then, you can take a break for lunch, can't you?" Daishou asked, his smirk entirely too sly. Keiji's phone buzzed in his pocket, and the idea of thinking about anything else did sound good, even if it was going to end in some disaster with Terushima and Daishou.
"Where were you going?" Keiji asked, which pretty much gave Terushima basket permission to start talking about the new café he'd found down the street, leading them across campus.
"How are you?" Daishou asked, falling into step beside him. He looked subdued, his usual mask just a little too flat.
"Busy," Akaashi answered. "You?"
"Fine," Daishou said. It had been a few days since Keiji had seen him, and the last time hadn't exactly been fun. Keiji didn't have anything against Daishou, it was just harder to read him than Keiji preferred.
Besides the fact that Daishou had been the one to tell him about Bokuto and Iwaizumi-san. It hadn't been a conversation Keiji particularly enjoyed. Not when he'd thought he and Bokuto were finally starting to get somewhere past the line of friends. It would have been so much easier to believe Daishou was wrong, but it was hard when Daishou was sleeping with Iwaizumi-san's roommate. Keiji still didn't know how he'd read the situation so wrong.
"Here we are," Terushima said, pulling open the door to a small café. Keiji went in after him and almost turned back around.
Bokuto, Kuroo, and Iwaizumi-san were sitting in the corner, laughing with plates spread out around them. Iwaizumi-san said something, and Bokuto's smile widened, his arm brushing across Iwaizumi-san's as he reached across the table. Daishou tensed behind him, blocking the exit, and Keiji felt vaguely nauseated.
"Bokuto!" Terushima yelled, crossing the café and waving. "Kuroo! Iwaizumi!"
They waved back easily, calling out his name, and Keiji trailed behind him. He'd known Terushima was on the volleyball team with them, but that didn't make the reality of the next disaster Terushima dragged him into any less unpleasant.
"You mind if we join you?" Terushima asked, either ignoring or completely missing Daishou's glare.
"Sure, bro!" Bokuto answered. Keiji looked away when Bokuto glanced toward him, and then they were all somehow seated together, ordering more food and ignoring how completely awkward this was.
"Hey, Aghaashi," Bokuto said, his voice strangely subdued, and Keiji had missed the way he said his name. He missed the way his eyes shone too bright to look away from. He missed the way his hair was too ridiculous to be anything but charming.
"Hello, Bokuto-san," Keiji answered. Bokuto's eyes flicked to Kuroo, who was busy staring at Daishou before glancing toward Iwaizumi-san, who was busy glaring at Daishou, and he was so obviously nervous, that Keiji just didn't know how to stay away. "How have you been? How has practice been?"
"Oh, um, good!" Bokuto said, his eyes lightening up at Keiji's pathetic peace offering.
~~Kuroo~~
Tetsurou was trying not to stare. He was really trying not to stare, but Daishou had one chopstick held on the edge of his lip, his tongue running along the wood in a way that was completely inappropriate for a public space, and Tetsurou was really trying not to stare.
"Where's Oikawa?" Iwaizumi asked, his tone dark in a way that let Tetsurou know he didn't have quite the same feelings about Daishou's performance.
"Do I look like Oikawa's keeper?" Daishou answered. He pulled the chopstick out of his mouth, narrowing his eyes like he was ready to launch some horrible insult at Iwaizumi. His venom was a little surprising. While Tetsurou knew Iwaizumi wasn't exactly a fan of Daishou's—he'd complained about Oikawa spending his time with him often enough—he hadn't known Daishou felt so strongly about Iwaizumi. He wondered if Daishou knew about Iwaizumi's feelings. It wasn't like Iwaizumi did a very good job hiding them.
"He said he was spending the day with you," Iwaizumi said.
"Oikawa never spends the day with me," Daishou answered, sliding another bite into his mouth. "He's too busy looking for snippets of your attention."
"But—" Iwaizumi broke off. He looked flamboozelled, like Daishou's version didn't fit at all with what he knew, and Tetsurou could relate.
Daishou didn't sound like a bitter boyfriend. He sounded protective. Angry. But he didn't sound jealous, and it didn't make sense for him to not be jealous of his boyfriend choosing to spend more time with someone else than him. Tetsurou turned back to Daishou to find Daishou already looking at him, his expression unreadable.
"Where are you going?" Terushima asked, and Tetsurou jerked, just realizing that Iwaizumi was getting up from the table.
"I'm going to find Oikawa," he said, already walking away. "If he's not here, he's probably out doing something stupid." He didn't even bother to look back before the door clicked shut behind him. Daishou took another bite, letting his chopstick linger a beat too long in his mouth, and he was definitely doing it on purpose.
"Doesn't that bother you?" Tetsurou asked, and Daishou squinted at him. It was the same squint he used to get when Tetsurou suggested they should mix bleach and ammonia in middle school. Like he couldn't quite believe someone as smart as Tetsurou was so stupid.
"Why would that bother me?"
"Just…" Tetsurou trailed off, suddenly unsure. It was hard enough to get Daishou to talk to him, he wasn't sure he wanted to get into some kind of debate about when to be jealous of your boyfriend or not. "You seem good."
"What does that mean?" Daishou answered, and Tetsurou blinked, completely confused.
"Nothing, I just—"
"Hey, Daishou," Terushima interrupted. He leaned over, his shoulder brushing against Daishou's arm. "Are you ever going to come to one of our games. Didn't you say you used to be pretty good?"
"I'm busy," Daishou muttered, flicking his eyes to Tetsurou, so fast Tetsurou almost thought he imagined it.
"Are you still studying literature?" Tetsurou asked
"What?"
"Weren't you planning to major in Japanese literature?" Tetsurou asked, feeling a little like everything he said was somehow on the wrong side of the line Daishou would tolerate. It wasn't a secret what Daishou was majoring in. Just because they weren't exactly friends didn't mean it was weird that he knew, did it? Besides, Daishou had always wanted to be an editor.
"Yeah," Daishou said, his voice still a little too wary. "My parents weren't too thrilled with it."
"They still want you to go into business?" Tetsurou asked, and Daishou flinched, his back straightening. His eyes were dark, filled with a startled outrage that made Tetsurou bite his tongue to hold back his own flinch.
"You remember that?" Daishou asked. He didn't sound angry. He sounded hurt, his eyes frozen in that same tight expression he used to use when he was trying to hide his emotions, and Tetsurou didn't understand.
"I mean…" Tetsurou hesitated, and Daishou took the moment to compose himself, twisting his lips in a sneer.
"Look, Tetsu," Daishou said, twisting the nickname around with enough venom to sound like some kind of insult, and Tetsurou didn't understand. "I really have no interest in bonding with you about the good old days where we actually cared about each other." He kicked his chair back as he stood, leaving Kuroo gaping after him like some kind of lunatic as he stormed out of the café. And Tetsurou must have lost his mind. He really couldn't think of another reason he chased Daishou out the door, catching his arm on the street outside the café.
"Let me go!" Daishou snapped, yanking his arm, but Tetsurou didn't let go. He was being so stupid. He should just let go. It was just that Daishou's eyes were starting to turn red, and Tetsurou didn't know why he was so upset, but he couldn't just walk away when he knew he was the reason.
"I'm sorr—"
"Are you mocking me?" Daishou asked, trying to yank his arm away again. A girl walking down the street flinched, her eyes wide as she skirted around them.
"What are you talking about?" Tetsurou answered, trying to pull him away from the very middle of the sidewalk at least.
"Come on, Tetsu," Daishou said, and his mask was completely gone now, replaced by some combination of hurt and confusion and desperation, and Tetsurou didn't understand what was happening. "You're stupid but even you're not that dense."
"I don't—"
"I don't expect you to like me, but don't act like—" Daishou cut himself off, his tongue flicking over his lips in a way that Tetsurou was sure he wasn't meant to be tempting.
"I don't not like you," Tetsurou answered, and Daishou bit his lip, his bottom lip catching in between in his teeth, and Tetsurou should really have raised his eyes like a few seconds ago.
"You're full of shit," Daishou said. He'd stopped pulling away, his bangs falling across his right eye in that overly styled way of his. He had his head tilted back just enough to look up at Tetsurou, his cheeks flushed. Tetsurou swallowed. It had been a long time since he'd stood this close to Daishou. Since he'd really had any kind of civil anything with Daishou.
And he must have really lost his mind, because he was leaning even closer, wondering how he smelt, thinking he would just inhale once and lean away, but then Daishou pressed forward, his head tilting and his lips parting, and Tetsurou's mind was in the gutter right next to his sanity. He smashed his lips against Daishou's, and maybe he would have been able to save the situation if Daishou hadn't gasped, pressing himself up against Tetsurou like he'd been looking forward to this as much as him.
~~Daishou~~
Suguru was pretty sure he'd fallen for Kuroo in his third year of middle school. They'd been screwing around behind the gym after volleyball club, Kenma already long gone, and Kuroo had tried jumping serving, only to land pretty much on his ass. The look on his face had been priceless. Laughing had completely been worth being chased with mud and the sequential mud fight that ensued.
It was one of many afternoons they spend messing around and doing shit they probably shouldn't have, but Suguru had always remembered that particular one. He remembered when Kuroo had stopped running, mud ground into his scalp and his hair even more of a mess than usual and thinking 'oh.'
Then, he had moved and there had been high school, and they just hadn't been around each other. And not being around turned into not knowing, turned into hating how fake Suguru could be, turned into Terushima telling some story about how upset Kuroo had gotten about the very idea of Akaashi and Kenma being together, turned into being so close to Kuroo and wanting him so damn much and it not really mattering.
Suguru hated how badly he wanted him. To the point that he played with chopsticks in his mouth just to see the way Kuroo's gaze lingered. It didn't mean anything, but at least he knew Kuroo wasn't indifferent.
To the point that he made out with Kuroo on the street, his hands getting stuck in that ridiculous hair and Kuroo's hands tight against his waist. There was a muffled gasp to their right, and Kuroo's hand closed around Suguru's wrist, pulling him off the street, down some side alley and shoving him against a wall.
The bustle of people was still clearly audible off to the left and the rancid smell of molding something wafted between them, and if it had been anyone else Suguru would have kicked them in the balls, but Kuroo tasted better than he'd imagined. Kuroo, who was leaning one hand next to his head on the (probably) filthy wall, his lips hot against Suguru's throat, trailing across his collarbone. Kuroo's breath puffing along his pulse.
He wasn't sure he was breathing anymore.
Kuroo's hand wrapped around his thigh, yanking up, pulling it around his waist, leaving him balanced precariously on the toes of his left leg, and he'd always hated how much taller Kuroo was. It was so unfair how the position made his erection press against Kuroo without him being able to feel Kuroo.
"Fuck, fuck, Tetsu, fuck," he cursed, wiggling his hips and locking his leg more firmly around him. He tilted his chin back, parting his lips, and he could feel Tetsurou's lips curl against his throat, entirely too self-satisfied. He would have to correct that. Sometime. Not now.
Tetsurou's tongue licked along his jaw, kissing right next to his mouth before hesitating just a second too long to kiss him. It was almost humiliating how quickly he opened his mouth, letting Tetsurou's tongue slide inside and brush along against his own. He moaned into the kiss, digging his nails into Tetsurou's shoulder. The pain must have jumpstarted something because he rocked forward, pressing himself against Suguru, and Suguru could finally feel him. Tetsurou's erection pressing against—
"Where do you think Kuroo went?" Bokuto asked, his voice loud enough to break through the chatter of the city around them. Loud enough that Kuroo stiffened against him, his mouth freezing and his hand tightening on Suguru's leg.
There was a much quieter, indistinct answer, footsteps, and Kuroo still didn't move. Suguru let out a muffled protest, tugging on Kuroo's hair to get his attention. It had the opposite effect as intended.
Kuroo sprang away from him, causing him to stumble and catch himself awkwardly against the wall as he lowered his right leg. Kuroo's eyes trailed over him as he panted, his face flushed a vibrant red, and it didn't take a genius to know that it wasn't from lust anymore.
Suguru straightened, smoothing down his shirt. It was so stupid. Fall for the lust and then realize that was all it was. Idiotic. All it left him was standing across from Kuroo looking like the guiltiest guy in the universe. Well, he should be. "I don't not like you" his ass.
"Well," Suguru said, turning his face away. "That was fun." There was a shuffling from Kuroo, his feet moving against the cement.
"I…" Kuroo trailed off, and Suguru really couldn't bring himself to look.
"I should be going," Suguru said. He wouldn't look back. He wouldn't.
He stopped at the place Kuroo had kissed him, the light of the café still bright and cheerful. Kuroo was still standing in the same place, scuffing his foot against the ground. Suguru wondered what he'd do if he went back and yelled at him. Apologize probably. It was pathetic. He was pathetic.
Suguru was pathetic.
He couldn't even walk away without looking back.