-I'm soo sorry it took too long to update :((( Thanks a lot for your comments, it was them that made me finally finish this chapter! Your support means a lot!

-this is not betad, once it will, I will update it! I apologize for any mistake/typo.

- this chapter was written ( www . youtube watch?v=kqubMaRnnQU) on the infinite loop.

Hope you enjoy it! Thanks again for sticking with this story! :)

It is just a stupid concert, Yamaguchi recited. It is just a stupid concert. It is just a. Stupid. Fucking. Concert.

He suddenly halted, eventually realizing the dark alley he is walking for the god knows how many hours, and waited for the magic to work. Because three always worked like a charm, except it did not right when he needed most.

It was just a fucking concert, and Tsukki should have to go with him. He just could not back away in the last minute. Not when he said he would go, not in a promise way but more like his honey-colored eyes sparkling and his cherry-colored lips curling the smallest of the smiles way. It was just a stupid fucking concert; it should not be this hard to go with your childhood/best friend.

Yamaguchi cursed. Loudly. Only to swallowed by the all kinds of noise filling the background. He heard them all at once, and heard nothing at the same time. Voices mingled with the shadows behind the curtains of the dirty windows, ugly eyes of the crooked apartments.

He was feeling like one of those book characters at the moment. That almost-protagonist, the unfortunate side-kick shouldering all the shits of the world – he had his own share since childhood, didn't he?-, with nowhere to go and no one to take refuge in, a very very miserable creature. In some point, all the readers loved him, because why not, oh such a poor little guy he was. They fantasized about him, painted him with glitters and smoothed every hideous corner of his, pampered him and corrupted in their own ways until he was born again as someone they molded. They made him someone he was not and worshipped him. Because people were just egoist bastards lusting after power and who was he to spare them from that joy of pitying him. And somewhere in the middle of the book as expected, he died. Because he had to. Because he was created to be killed from the start. They mourned for him, and made him immortal. Only for two pages though - until the main character finally made love. And then, he was long gone.

No, Yamaguchi was not relating to that character, but he was him. He just hoped that he gave a good show whoever out there watching him. He cursed. Loudly.

He did not even realize that his feet unconsciously start to move him trough the labyrinth of the city, passing him by the blurry reds and greens. When he looked up again, he recognized Oikawa's now familiar apartment with astonishment.

It's funny because it was only more than a month that pompous king was in his life, yet he was in his doorstep because he had no one to go. There were friends, or fake plastic trees, as Yamaguchi most of the time referred them in his head, and they didn't count. But why Oikawa did count, he had no idea. Yet, he climbed up the stairs to the fifth floor half wishing that Oikawa was not home and the other half begging he would be there to tell him he was such a child to be upset over something like that.

As he knocked on the door, Yamaguchi was already regretting - how could he even think that there were two options, and that it was a mistake to come here. Though without him managing to turn back, Oikawa's face appeared in front of him.

"Yama-chan?" Oikawa asked puzzled at first and shrieked with bewilderment as his eyes wandered on Yamaguchi's face. "Did you climbed the stairs? What's the matter? Are you okay?"

Yamaguchi gave a lopsided smile as a response and looked up to the man before him like he was an hallucination. A perfect porcelain face on the outside, but little imperfections hidden to well to be discovered - together creating the cracks on the portrait. Fogged eyes, half-red eye lids, and bitten lips.

"Yeah, I guess" he replied after a while incoherently.

Oikawa gently pushed him inside to the apartment throwing bunch of other questions Yamaguchi could not register even if he wanted to.

It was just that his mind was stuck on that idea before like a broken record, the one about book characters. If Yamaguchi was that character, then Oikawa should have been the main character who passionately made love right after two pages Yamaguchi dead. But no. Hell no. The universe somehow really fucked up on the assignment, because this beautiful thing, - currently putting some water on the kettle and worriedly checking Yamaguchi's face one a while- was his ally, believe it or not. He also was also about to die in the middle of the story, it seemed.

Because at first he thought it was raining, Yamaguchi ignored the damp feeling on his cheeks, and then he remembered he was inside. He tried to put together some kind of explanation, but interrupted by Oikawa's surprised yelp, he stopped.

"Oh my, are you crying?"

Am I crying, he tried to understand.

Before he realized, the rain turned into a downpour somehow and must be because he has no control over his body, the next thing he knew that he was wrapping his arms around Oikawa's shoulders, so tight. So tight that he could feel it was real, he had someone to hold on, and maybe he was not some pathetic book character at all.

ooo

Oikawa was a generous person. He offered his couch –it already became Yamaguchi's favorite thing, a vanilla-scented blanket and hot cup of tea that went perfect with Oikawa's loud whining, "God that cold-hearted megane! What's wrong him?" and all.

Yamaguchi mustered up a smile. It is just a stupid fucking concert, he remembered. And this time it worked.

ooo

"Oikawa, do you want to go with me – to the concert I mean," Yamaguchi started, and quickly adding after "if you are free of course!"

Oikawa's eyes lit with excitement.

"Finally Yama-chan" he puffed. "I was waiting for you to ask me to go that thing – you know, packed with sweaty people to stand on our feet for hours instead of having my beauty session. I'd love to!"

Yamaguchi rolled his eyes with a pleasure he didn't try to hide, "God you are so annoying sometimes"

"Only sometimes?" Oikawa hummed raising an eyebrow.

Yamaguchi shrugged. "Yeah, because rarely you shut that big mouth of yours and one can be fooled with your god damn beauty!"

Oikawa's mouth hanged open, then flush crept into his face, and he threw a pillow to Yamaguchi. "How" he asked with a demanding voice, "How can say that with such a straightforward face?"

"Maybe because it is truth?" Yamaguchi suggested, avoiding the pillow quite successfully. He was an honest guy.

Oikawa's whole face became crimson red this time, and Yamaguchi couldn't help but grin widely. Oh God, why did it feel this fun to be with this guy!

"Then why don't you try to tell some of your truths to your giant megane crush, you know, like how beautiful his eye lashes and all"

Oikawa fluttered his eyelids in a dramatic way.

"Heyy!" Yamaguchi threw the pillow back at Oikawa and it seemed that it's his turn to blush. Dammit. "When did I ever say something about his eye lashes?"

"You did not even stop!"

"Excuse me but let me remind you those pathetic two hours you graphically described Iwaizumi-san's shoulders and arms? Or should I say -"

"That's Yama-chan" Oikawa interrupted "whole another business"

"How is that so?"

"Because, you see, it is just for sports purposes, and all."

They both laughed then, because it was such an obvious lie. It was warm and safe, and Yamaguchi thought it was okay to answer.

"I don't know" he said at first. He was not really sure actually, but then words left his mouth without asking his permission, "Because - Because it's been a way too long time, so I can't tell what I see in him – truth or dream."

Oikawa whistled. "God, so lame Yama-chan"

"S-Shut up." He said blushing once more. "Fucking sports purposes, right!? And why do you keep calling him giant, you are almost the same height!"

"Aww, now that wounded me Yama-chan~ How can you call someone with my beauty a giant, totally non aesthetic word, you hurt me so deep."

ooo

On his way back to home, Yamaguchi felt much lighter than before, all thanks to Oikawa. Tsukki wouldn't come to the concert with him, so what? It was not like Yamaguchi loved him less for that reason, only that it hurt more than he can bear, a little more than his pain limit, but to hell with it.

He remembered their conversation earlier, about spending less time together. Tsukki being aware of that and being upset about it made his heart flutter suddenly. He'd said he had a homework, but maybe if Yamaguchi insisted little, maybe he could give up. The idea alone made Yamaguchi entirely recover.

When he got back to the apartment though, it's pitch dark. So he is outside, Yamaguchi sighed disappointed. Never the right time. And then he sensed, something out of ordinary, like a lion sensed the threat of a strong rival – Kuroo was there.

He exactly knew what he not to do with this information, so he tried as possible as he could to focus on his most important task. Still, less confident, he texted Tsukki that he was waiting for him to watch a movie and that he would even help him with the homework.

After two hours of waiting response though, Yamaguchi was even less enthusiastic. But he still hoped a little.

His phone never chirped. He tried to remember how he felt when he left Oikawa's apartment – more hopeful and less sore, and forced any thought involving Tsukki and Kuroo together out of his mind. He failed both and opened the movie.

ooo

Yamaguchi was almost in the half of the movie sprawled on the couch, eyes hazy with sleep when he heard a voice at the door knob. Finally, he grunted. Though he had no right to. It's Tsukishima's business to decide to come home whenever he wanted. It's only and only Tsukishima's business to text back whomever he wanted to, too. Yet, he pretended he did not hear when the soft thuds of Tsukishima's footsteps invaded the living room. He was at least allowed to do that, right?

"Hi" Tsukishima's voice suddenly so close to his ear.

"Hi" Yamaguchi said back, jerking his body up awkwardly.

Even only with the light coming from TV, there was something wrong about Tsukki, Yamaguchi realized immediately. His almost too perfect face seemed disheveled with something the brunette could not decipher, and there were suspicious shadows on his face on more places than they were supposed to be.

Tsukishima quietly sank to the couch right next to Yamaguchi, and the brunette tensed like a scared cat.

"Are you alright, Tsukki?" His voice echoed weaker than he meant to be, but no less worried.

Yamaguchi did not know how to take the small shaky hum the blond gave him in return. He was about to ask more when more quietly and hesitantly Tsukishima put his head to brunette's shoulder.

Words lumped in his throat in that instant and suddenly his heartbeats were all too loud. Like some delirious drummer decided it's best to perform a show right there in his heart.

He was waiting Tsukishima to make some kind of explanation, any gibberish could be well approved given the situation, but it seemed the blond did not have any intention of talking any time soon.

What's more was Tsukki snuggled just little bit closer, now his hair was tickling Yamaguchi's neck in the most plausible – the softest, the sweetest and the most perfect- way and his left shoulder was more than hot where Tsukishima's warm cheek pressed gently.

All of his six senses awake and hypersensitive; for the second time Yamaguchi thought he was hallucinating. He thought if he moved an inch, the dream would dissolve into the dust. It was not that Yamaguchi and Tsukishima never touched each other – though for the last four months they were perfectly avoiding from each other – there were always hair ruffles, shoulder-bumps, high-fives, arms over shoulders. But this was certainly new, undiscovered in a way; clumsily and greedily trying to reach beyond it.

There was a noticeable silence except for the song the coming from the movie flowing on TV

I could hold your beautiful hands

And kiss your beautiful eyelids

– and it was not unpleasant at all. It was familiar. It was missed. This kind of silence.

Yamaguchi could never imagine such a simple act can feel this intimate, making him vulnerable to all kinds of demolitions. Because right now, despite how deep he tried to keep those whirlwind of emotions, they were overflowing. It seemed that his body was failing to register why it is such a sin to run his fingers through that hair, or simply lean his head on the top of Tsukki's.

There was definitely something wrong about Tsukki.

"So you're watching a movie?"

Yamaguchi's thoughts scattered around.

"Huh" he asked abruptly.

"Movie" repeated Tsukishima more like a whisper, word barely leaving his mouth.

"Yeah" Yamaguchi responded finally. "I waited for you like three hours, you know?"

He forced a chuckle just to break this weird tension roaming above them, and it did not help. If any, Tsukishima's feather light hair buried into his neck even more from the movement of his shoulders.

"You waited for me?"

The bewilderment in the blonde's voice took Yamaguchi aback. That's not unusual, was it? Yamaguchi always waited for Tsukishima. It was a fact. Why did he have to sound so surprised?

"Yeah" he confirmed anyhow. For years, Yamaguchi never got tired of telling the things that Tsukishima wanted to hear as well as the ones he did not want to. Because Yamaguchi knew, and still knows, it was only him that can voice them for him, even though he hasn't been doing so for the last months. Not because he was tired, no, because was simply in pain.

"Didn't you see my text?" Yamaguchi said just to be talking and immediately regretted it.

Because Tsukishima sat up suddenly, "What text?" and the sweet weight of his head left Yamaguchi's shoulder. He watched in half surprise and in half curiosity as the blond quickly took his phone from his backpack like it is the most important thing to do.

Then, magically or miraculously as Yamaguchi would say so, Tsukki put his sunflower field head of his back to where it was with a soft thump.

Yamaguchi's stomach jumped with joy.

He peeked through his shoulder, watched the blond getting through his messages, and looking the text longer than what it seemed a while.

"I did not see it" Tsukishima finally said, something bitter in his voice. Then, he added with sincerity that Yamaguchi long yearned, "I would come. I would certainly."

Tsukki's voice was shy, sweet and tender at the same time, and also apologetic which shouldn't be at all, because Yamaguchi knew. Even if some unimportant cases proved wrong. They did not matter. They could not erase what they had until now. And Yamaguchi knew that he has to say it aloud just like always.

"Yeah, I know Tsukki"

He felt Tsukishima's smile against his shoulder, and Yamaguchi couldn't believe how the day turned into something amazing. Something warm just the memory of it would keep him happy for weeks. He was grinning like an idiot as Tsukishima said,

"You know, about the concert—"

Yamaguchi did not want to hear about that concert anymore. And he could not let it come between them once again.

"It's okay Tsukki!" he chirped. It was far from the tone he used in the morning. It meant, this time.

"You know, I can actually –" started Tsukishima, only to be interrepted again.

"Just go have fun with Kuroo, Tsukki! Don't worry about me! Actually, I think Oikawa-san will come with me! Right, so it's okay"

Yamaguchi only wanted to set Tsukishima's mind at ease, to peel any guilt from him, so he did not understand why when Tsukishima's head leave him once more and for sure, this time.

He was baffled and blankly stared at Tsukki's face which was now full of something Yamaguchi could not decide between rage, disappointment and betrayal. It was maybe a terrfying mix of them, and the brunette's had no idea how he stirred that expression from the blond.

"So you just ran to Oikawa and asked him at the first chance, huh"

Yamaguchi opened his mouth and closed, because he is thoughts were too much of a mess to respond, then it was too late. Tsukishima already shut the door of his room loud enough to make him jump in his place.

Yamaguchi stared at the void for a while on the verge of crying and laughing like an idiot, oh such a poor guy he was indeed. It was how living with Tsukishima was, right? He remembered to shut the long ignored TV, and then gave an insane salute to his faceless readers.

The moment he stepped in Kuroo's bedroom, Tsukishima knew the experiment was over. That it was not a game anymore. It's been until now -for him, not for Kuroo definitely- and he was feeling guilty about it. God, there were too many things he was feeling guilty about or rather he never felt anything but guilt, anger and despair for the last months.

Right now, it's too much real to handle. Especially the bed.

Kuroo kissed him. Countless of times. He kissed Kuroo, too. They made out. He knows what was there to know about Kuroo, not everything but, that stupid grin when he looks at something he hold dear, or his surprised face when Tsukishima says something good about him, or his troubled smile with which he looks at Tsukishima when he thinks Tsukishima is not aware, and Tsukishima always was aware.

It was not all vain, this experiment. Tsukishima learned now what it was to like someone. Literally. Enjoying the meaningless moments together. Feeling a soft blanket of affection hiding him from the harms of the world. These were not new to him though, he knew how they taste, every single one of them, because of Yamaguchi. And that was why he thought for a long time that the thing he was feeling towards Yamaguchi was not that special if he was able to feel them towards Kuroo as well. And for that reason, he concluded it was not something romantic.

Yet deep inside, he guessed it was.

Whenever a thought of kissing Kuroo crossed his mind, it was Yamaguchi's face he imagined. It was beautiful than anything in the world, his eyelids slowly closing and lashes wandering around the stars on his cheeks. He could kiss him without even stop to breath. It was because of that, he was never be able to initiate a kiss with Kuroo. Until today. And the thought of kissing Yamaguchi , it never left his mind to begin with.

No. The experiment was already over an hour ago. In that exact moment when he finally understood what he felt really mean as he was waiting Yamaguchi to tear him into pieces, and worthless experiment of his. That, and because he never wanted to kiss him that bad before, like it'd feed thousand year's hunger. It was instinctive, animalistic and it hurt.

It hurt more when Yamaguchi said sorry. For the millionth of the time. And the weight of undeserved sorry's broke him.

Someone has to mend him, so that was why he was shamelessly still with Kuroo, nodding blankly as he went on,

"Isn' this a bit fast! I mean it's not for me – I've been wanting – God I've been wanting this for a long time Tuskki! But you know, it's the first time you kissed and now we are about – "

He knew it was sick to play with Kuroo and playing with himself like they were a pair of toys, they were made of plastic. He might be to some degree, but Kuroo was definitely not. Not with his eyes sparkling with excitement, his cheeks scarlet and that fond smile that Tsukishima feels the most guilt about.

Someone has to mend him, Tsukishima reminded himself as Kuroo's stripping his clothes. Maybe he could even go on playing this game; he could even live his life playing his game. Though, he could not stop his body from shivering. He was feeling like his soul was about to crack open carelessly, and he was terrified to death for Kuroo to see what's inside. Inside was rotten with all kinds of insecurities, cowardice, and greed. If there was someone, that he should lay naked with, his body and soul, there was only one person he trust himself with his whole heart without being ashamed of himself.

He was really the most stupid. There was only one that could mend him, it was the one that broke him.

He looked at Kuroo's newly troubled eyes, all the sparkles from before now died away. Tsukishima wished that there were some other words than sorry that were enough to mean how wicked he felt.

"I am –" he started.

"I know" Kuroo interrupted. "I just thought – I could not believe but I hoped."

"Sorry" Tsukishima somehow completing his broken sentence with a shaky voice. "Hit me, please. Beat me until you forgive me."

Kuroo gave a sad smile.

"Naah - I am a nice guy, you know. "

"I know." Tsukishima whispered. He was about to make some sarcastic comment when Kuroo's fingers brushed his cheeks, then Tsukishima realized how wet his face was.

"Shh - It's okay." Kuroo hushed him, and lulled into the peace of the dark room.