The first night that things changed was after practice.

The boys have finally left and Keishin and Takeda are packing up in the tiny ass room in the back of the gym that Keishin calls an office. The whiteboard he uses during practice is shoved in the corner, wiped clean but covered in post-it notes. His desk, a small thing that barely deserves the name, is covered in paperwork he needs to get sorted before the end of the week.

"I don't know how you have time for this club and all your students," Keishin grumbles, grabbing a folder and shoving it unceremoniously into his duffel bag. "I'm gonna be up all night with this shit."

"It comes with practice," Takeda muses, his smile serene and his bag strap already perched on his shoulder. He's been ready to go for at least ten minutes, but he's too polite to leave Keishin on his own even though it's late.

Keishin sighs and pulls a few empty wrappers out of his bag to throw away. "Kinda just wish it was easy to begin with. I get enough shit from the old man about it."

"Oh, I'm sure your grandfather had his troubles too," Takeda says diplomatically. "Surely he knows how hard you're working."

"He keeps his tabs on me, yeah," Keishin reaches underneath the desk to grab the waste bin. "Gonna pay him a visit this weekend, actually."

Takeda smiles and hums softly. "That sounds nice. It must be nice living so close to family."

Keishin glances sideways at Takeda, one eyebrow arched. There's something in his tone but Keishin isn't quite sure what it is."Your folks live far?"

"Ah, something like that," Takeda looks down and Keishin knows for sure now that whatever it is in his tone, it isn't good.

"When's the last time you went home?" Keishin asks, but when Takeda stays silent, he immediately regrets it. "Shit, sorry, that's probably rude to ask."

Takeda waves his hands in front of him, shaking away Keishin's apology. "No, no, it's okay," The other man smiles nervously. "It's been a very long time. I'm not welcome there."

Keishin blinks at Takeda's confession.. "Well that seems shitty." He closes his eyes as soon as he says it. "Shit, that's even worse to say. Sorry."

Takeda laughs but Keishin hears the forceful pitch of it high in the back of his throat. "That's okay, people usually say worse."

Keishin zips up his duffel bag. "Yeah? I feel like I'm quite the expert at putting my foot in my mouth to be honest."

Takeda hums and shoulders his own bag. "Most people usually ask what I did to deserve it," his fingers white-knuckle themselves around the strap. "Or they don't say much of anything."

"I don't think there's anything that unforgivable that a kid can do," Keishin lifts his duffel and pulls it over his head. "Home should be the place you can always go no matter how bad you fuck up."

The jingle of Keishin's keys as he digs them out of his pocket fills the silence between them. But once he has them in his hand, he looks up at Takeda and sees tears welling up in his eyes.

Keishin's stomach leaps into his throat. He manages to croak, "Oh Christ, I'm sorry. What did I say now?"

"It's not you, it's not, it's-" Takeda sniffles and takes his glasses off with one hand, wiping his eyes with the back of the other. "It just means a lot to hear you say that. I wish my parents felt that way."

Keishin is not an idiot. He has enough sense to know that he has said something emotionally profound, but god help him if he understands why it made the other man cry. But obviously it's something Takeda needs to hear, so Keishin reaches out and rests his hand on the shorter man's shoulder.

"I don't know your folks, but you're no one to be ashamed of." He squeezes Takeda's shoulder, and brown eyes look up to meet his own. "You're an amazing teacher, these kids look up to you, they're here because of you, and you're a good friend."

Takeda wipes at his nose with his sleeve. Keishin is staring at his lower lip, pushed out and quivering as he sniffs hard once more.

"That...you don't know what hearing that means to me," Takeda whispers. He puts his glasses back on. "Thank you."

Keishin's stomach is flipping inside of his gut now, so he takes a careful step backwards. "Well, I'm glad someone gets to tell you."

Takeda smiles and the warmth of it spreads in Keishin's own chest. "Really, Ukai, thank you."

Keishin makes his way towards the door, his bag rustling as it shifts against his back. "Don't even mention it, teach," he grins at Takeda over his shoulder. "See you tomorrow?"

Takeda nods and both men leave the gym, slipping out into the night and going their separate ways. But when Keishin goes to bed that night, the memory of Takeda's face - eyes rimmed red and his smile small and watery - lingers behind his eyelids.

His first mistake was getting drunk.

Keishin wasn't a stranger to long nights barely remembered. What reasonably attractive young person didn't enjoy a night of debauchery once in awhile? The issue now is that Keishin isn't 20 anymore and his hangovers put him out for a whole day now. Plus, he can't exactly show up hungover to practice when he's got an entire team of impressionable teenage boys relying on him. Keishin is nothing if not a role model, after all.

So why the hell is he five drinks in on a Thursday night?

As much of a mistake as it is, he's not feeling bad about it right now. There's good food on the table and old friends gathered around it. Shimada managed to leave someone else in charge at his store, Mori took a break from his homework, Uchizawa doesn't work nights anymore and Takinoue is between jobs right now, so drinks on a Thursday night was his idea.

The real highlight of the night is that Keishin, by some divine mercurial influence, convinced Takeda to put off a night of grading essays to come with him to the bar. Takeda fits right in with them, making an even six out of their motley five. He asks Mori about his classes and asks questions that proves he actually understands whatever the hell it is that Mori's studying. He talks shop about the boys with Shimada, who seems all too eager to talk up Yamaguchi's training progress. He even takes Uchizawa's and Takinoue's good-natured ribbing in stride.

Keishin will never admit that he was nervous about Takeda getting along with his friends, but it was different interacting with them on the court than it was at the bar. Here they were letting their guards down, kicking back and relaxing and letting go of all their stresses with a few beers.

Although, Takinoue is an enabler and everyone is in a few drinks too many. Takeda included, which is how Keishin finds himself acting as a human wall to hold the other man up.

"We should do this every week," Takeda muses, his smile lazy and his glasses low on his nose. His cheeks are flushed red and Keishin thinks he looks almost like a candied apple. "This is so fun."

"Maybe too much fun," Uchizawa sighs, looking down at the bill. Based on arbitrary rules they established back in high school, it's Uchizawa's turn to pay for their night out.

Takinoue laughs. "C'mon, you'll have fun next week if you aren't paying." He starts to get up, steady on his feet despite the six empty glasses sitting in front of him. "Everyone got rides?"

Mori hums and rests his head against his chin, eyes glassy with tiredness. "Anyone want to split a cab? I think I'll fall asleep on the train."

"Just crash with me, I can drive you back to yours in the morning," Shimada says, shaking Mori's shoulder as he stands up. Shimada, who has a stronger will than all of them combined, only drank two beers.

Mori is offering a thousand thanks and a promise of a bottle of sake as Uchizawa gets up to pay the bill. Keishin was planning on walking home because it usually helps him sober up a bit, but Takeda's weight against him has him reconsidering his plans.

Keishin pokes Takeda in the shoulder and the other man looks up at him with wide eyes. "Do you have a ride, teach?"

Those doe eyes blink at him. "Oh," Takeda shifts as if he hadn't considered how he was getting home tonight before this moment. "My car is outside, but I'm actually not far from here. I can...walk?"

The fact that his statement curls up in a question has Keishin laughing. "We'll walk together," he says, helping Takeda to his feet. "It'll sober us both up a bit."

Everyone says good night outside of the bar and Keishin promises to create a group chat that includes Takeda so they can plan another night like this. Shimada drives off with Mori, Takinoue and Uchizawa walk towards the train station, and Keishin and Takeda make their way down the road towards Takeda's apartment.

"Your friends are nice," Takeda muses, his steps slow and crooked. "I hope they liked me."

"Oh, they liked you, teach," Keishin chuckles. He wraps his arm around Takeda's shoulders, steadying the man's gait so they fall in step together. "You were the life of the party."

The flush on Takeda's cheeks shifts in the streetlights and Keishin could swear it grows deeper. "You can call me by my name you know," Takeda's tongue pokes out to wet his bottom lip before he looks away. "Especially if it's just the two of us."

Keishin blinks, caught off guard by the statement. "Yeah? I don't wanna be disrespectful to my elder," Keishin hunches his shoulders and brings his head down towards Takeda's. "You really want me to call you, Ittetsu?"

Now Keishin is certain that Takeda's cheeks are burning brighter. "Yes," Takeda croaks. "And I can call you Keishin."

His name, he realizes, sounds nice coming out of Takeda's mouth. The other man has never said it before, but he wants to hear him say it again more often. They walk on for a while in a comfortable silence, their bodies flush together and the night swimming around them.

Takeda's voice rises to Keishin's ears, "I'd like to tell you something, Keishin."

Keishin hums. "Okay, go ahead."

There's a moment of hesitation, a flicker of something that Keishin can't quite name as it sits uncomfortably in the air before Takeda gives it meaning. "I'm gay."

"What?" It comes out harsher than he intends it too. He clears his throat and shakes his head and tries to correct himself. "I'm sorry, what?"

Takeda withers under his arm and Keishin can feel him trying to pull away. "Please don't make me say it again."

Fuck. Fuck, he feels like shit. "No, I'm sorry I just-" Keishin holds Takeda against him. He can't quite find the words for what he wants to say. He wants to be eloquent like he was back at the gym, saying the perfect thing without evening meaning to. "I just don't know what I expected you to say."

"That's alright, there's not much to say," Takeda tips his head up towards the sky, staring into the streetlights above them as if they will provide answers. "If I've made you uncomfortable-"

"No, it's not that," Keishin cuts him off quickly. He squeezes Takeda's arm. "I've just never had someone tell me that before."

Takeda huffs a laugh. He stumbles slightly and Keishin stumbles with him. "I imagine not," Takeda says, and Keishin can see he presses his lips together, the pink flesh turning white. "I'm sorry there's not a better way to say it."

"Don't get in your head about it," Keishin shrugs as best as he can. "You like men, there's nothing wrong about that."

Takeda blinks and looks up at Keishin as if he's just sprouted a second head. "Most people don't-"

"Most people are stupid," Keishin interrupts again. He's talking without thinking but maybe that works out for him sometimes. "Hell, I'm stupid, but not that stupid. Who you love is your business. Don't let other people make you feel like shit about it."

Another silence settles between them and the world grows loud. The streetlight above them buzzes, the air carries the conversation of a couple far away, a car drives by.

Takeda breaks the silence first. "You would be a good father, Keishin."

Keishin blinks hard. "Huh?"

Takeda laughs and his body pushes against Keishin's. "I'm drunk," he explains, his hands twisting together in front of him. "When I told my parents I was gay, my father said I would have to learn to like women. He said I was broken, but that I could live a good life if I just...worked harder at being with a woman."

"Fuck that," Keishin snaps. He shakes his head. "You know that's bullshit. Your own damn kid..."

"I know," Takeda feigns indifference, but Keishin can hear the hurt in his voice. "But I'm not his son anymore. He said as long as I live this way, I can't come home."

"You mean as long as you're you?" Takeda's head turns away so Keishin plows forward. "I know it's overstepping, but if your dad can't love you for you, that's not love you want."

Keishin doesn't see it, but he can hear Takeda sniffle and watches his hands reach up towards his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be-"

"You're allowed to be upset," Keishin says, but a knot of guilt settles in his stomach. "I'm sorry I keep making you cry."

Takeda laughs. "That's okay," Takeda looks up and offers Keishin an earnest smile. "They're good tears, in a way."

Keishin isn't quite sure of the existence of good tears but he believes Takeda when he says it. They reach Takeda's apartment not long after that, and Keishin makes the long walk back to his own bed in the dark of the night. But in that bed, where Keishin lies flat on his back, he replays every moment in his head.

He wishes he hadn't been drunk. He should have said more to support him. Should he have said less? Should he have let him go after Takeda came out to him, given him physical space? He didn't want to let him go. Keishin is still just drunk enough to admit that he liked the warmth of Takeda's body tucked into his. He can't forget the way Takeda's skin was flushed and he wonders if part of it was because of how close they were. Takeda's sexuality changes nothing, but why does the fact of it sit at the forefront of his mind? Keishin isn't gay, after all.

Keishin stares up at the crack in his ceiling and as if it will provide him with any sort of clarity. He falls asleep just two hours before his alarm goes off.

The first time he realizes he might not be straight is after Saturday morning practice.

These boys need all the practice they can get, and Ukai is grateful they all manage to shuffle in on time even if they grumble their way through stretches. Morning practice is a bit more subdued because the boys are usually too tired to bicker, and by the time they get to drills, whatever energy they have is dedicated to their game. Keishin is grateful for even a moment of reprieve from the daily debacles the first-years love to get themselves in.

"Hey, are we doing gay thoughts class later?" It's Yamaguchi's voice, but it sounds garbled in a way that suggests he's snacking on one of those fruit bars he keeps in his bag.

Keishin does an admirable job of dropping his jaw and not the stack of papers in his hand.

"Yeah, that's what Suga said," Kageyama sounds like he's low to the ground, packing up his duffel bag. "He said we're going to talk about bicycles today."

"Baka-yama, it's not bicycles," Hinata chimes in and Keishin can practically see the shit-eating grin across his face. "Bicycles aren't gay!"

"Like hell you know what it is instead!" Kageyama shouts. Keishin expects to hear more of their typical shouting match, but Tsukishima interrupts them.

"Bisexuals," he says, his voice dry. "We're talking about being bisexual, you dimwits. Although that doesn't mean much for either of you."

Kageyama and Hinata proceed to hound Tsukishima and ask him what the hell he means by that. Keishin listens to their bickering grow quiet with distance, but that word sticks with him.

He's spent every night since that one after the bar telling himself he isn't gay. He doesn't have the emotional strength to find out what the hell "gay thoughts class" is, but it implies that there's more to this gay stuff than just...being gay. Maybe this bisexual thing is something else entirely.

Later, when he gets to the shop, Keishin perches his laptop on his knees as he sits behind the counter. He opens a private browsing tab and types "what is bisexual" into a search engine.

Thirty minutes and 5 websites later, Keishin learns about the entire rainbow of LGBTQ identities but he focuses on the B. Bisexual people are attracted to both men and women. There's a special flag of colors that represents them. It seems like there's some debate on how bisexual a person can be if they've been attracted to one gender for most of their life before being attracted to the opposite.

He tries out the word in his mouth, his lips moving and air pushing out in a soundless breath. He doesn't feel brave enough to say it out loud yet, but he rolls it around in his head. Is he bisexual? He dated a few girls in high school and has hooked up with several over the years. He's never been with a guy in real life but he's...thought about it? He's not blind - he can appreciate a good-looking guy. When you spend your youth playing volleyball with a bunch of teenage boys, you can appreciate their physicality. Some guys would rather choke on mochi than admit another guy is attractive, but Keishin's never been embarrassed about that.

A customer walks into the store and Keishin greets them. He closes the private window and starts thinking about his porn history. He likes videos with beautiful girls and big chests. He definitely likes watching men and women together, but he likes looking at the guys in the videos too. He's even watched a few solo guy videos, but he's never watched two men together. Should he? If he's into watching two guys do it, will that be solid proof he's bisexual?

The customer comes to the counter with a bottle of tea and a bag of chips. Keishin rings him up and tries, very subtly, to check him out. He's middle-aged, which doesn't put him off. His haircut is a little old fashioned, but he's got a nice face and he's well-dressed. He doesn't want to kiss him, but would a straight person notice these things? Is the act of his admiration of another man inherently bisexual?

The doorbell chimes as the man leaves. Once he's out of his sight, Keishin buries his face in his hands and groans. He needs a cigarette. He needs someone to talk to about this. One of those things is easier to achieve than the other. He abandons the counter to take a fifteen minute smoke break.

The first time he tries to say something, he says all the wrong things.

That night after the bar changed things between them. When they're alone together, in the back office in the gym or out in the parking lot or sometimes at Keishin's store, they call each other by their given names. Keishin's name sounds like a secret on Takeda's - Ittetsu's - lips. He says it with a smile, curved at the corners of his mouth and with a twinkle in his eye. Keishin wants to hear it every day for the rest of his life. It's embarrassing how far he's tumbled into this "I have a raging bisexual crush" thing.

He hadn't thought about it much before, but Ittetsu is gorgeous. Keishin traces the curve of his brow when it furrows over his clipboard and he wants to smooth it out. He studies the curve of his jaw and wonders if Ittetsu shaves often or if he doesn't grow much facial hair at all. He watches the curve of his body as he stretches out his back, popping vertebrae and cursing long hours hunched over his desk, and suppresses the urge to offer the service of his own hands to smooth out the pains that plague Ittetsu's muscles.

It's a crush, plain and simple, but Keishin has no idea what to do about it.

Keishin manages to function in a way that he thinks doesn't betray his feelings. Sure, they share a confidence now that hadn't existed before that first night back in his office. And sure, now there's more physical touch between them since that walk home from the bar. And yeah, sure, Keishin's stomach flips every time Ittetsu looks, talks, smiles at him, but he can manage that just fine.

"Keishin?" Ittetsu's voice is a bird song and Keishin turns to it quickly. They're in the back of the store in the break room, burning the midnight oil with beer and snacks that Keishin offered because he couldn't bear to do it on campus in his office in the gym. The break room, however, is hardly better, with a window that's been stuck shut for four months and milk crates for chairs. Keishin bought cushions for them last week, an action he's grateful for as he watches Takeda shift around on his milk crate perch while holding a beer tightly between his hands.

"Sorry," Keishin mumbles, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his eyes. He'd blame the crush for his spacing out, but he's also tired as shit. "Wanna call it a night?"

Ittetsu hums and sips his beer. "You're the one who suggested coming here to do work."

"Yeah, and I woulda been just as tired if we weren't here," Keishin grabs his own beer can, frowning as he finds it empty. He leans forward to toss it in the waste bin, bringing his body into Ittetsu's orbit. "I don't know how you do it."

"A lot of coffee," Ittetsu smiles and Keishin swears he leans in closer. "I sneak naps in the teacher's office, too."

Keishin chuckles. "You're a bad influence, Ittetsu," he says as their eyes meet. "What would the kids think if they knew you slacked on the job?"

"You'll just have to keep my secret," Ittetsu's teeth graze against his lower lip as his eyes glance down at Keishin's own lips.

He can barely process the glance, quick and subtle, before Ittetsu is closing the space between them. Keishin isn't sure if it's the beer, but Ittetsu's lips are pressed against his. They taste sweet and Keishin's heart is singing and his head is swimming and he gasps when Ittetsu pulls away from him.

They stare at each other for a moment, eyes wide, before they speak at the same time.

"Keishin, I-"

"I'm not gay."

The words fall on them like a bucket of ice water. Keishin watches something cold and hard settle in Ittetsu's eyes and he feels regret settle heavily in his stomach. Their voices find each other again.

"Ittetsu, I didn't-"

"It's late, I should be going,"

Ittetsu is pulling back, standing up and creating a cavern of space between them. Keishin knows he isn't that drunk, but he isn't sure how to fix this.

"Wait a second," Keishin scrambles to stand and papers fall to the ground. "Ittetsu, please."

"It's okay," Ittetsu says, his voice cold even as he smiles at him. "We can go over any other details in the morning, okay?"

It's not okay. Keishin wants to scream the fact until his throat is raw. But his words are caught in his throat and his silence speaks enough for Ittetsu to misunderstand him entirely. Ittetsu grabs his bag and reaches for the door.

"Have a good night, coach," Ittetsu says, and the name is a knife in his head. Keishin feels the door of whatever it was that opened between them slam shut as the door to the break room clicks quietly closed.

The first time he apologizes, he bakes a cake.

Or at least he tries to. It comes out lopsided and the frosting is runny, but the batter he had taste-tested had been delicious. He hopes that appearances matter less than the quality of the cake itself.

Keishin packs the cake in a plastic travel container and walks out the door. He asked his mom for the recipe, which was embarrassing enough before he explained he had to apologize to a friend.

But Ittetsu's more than that. Ittetsu's the stubborn idiot who gave his life meaning again. He's not losing his friendship, his kindness, his everything just because he can't keep his foot out of his mouth.

When he gets to Ittetsu's apartment and knocks on the door, Keishin realizes with slow-burning horror that the man might not even be home. Who's to say he doesn't have better things to do on a Sunday afternoon? He hasn't been brave enough to text Ittetsu back at all, and it's been days since that night in the store. Ittetsu probably hates him, he probably never wants to speak to him again, he-

He opens the door.

Keishin straightens up at the sight of Ittetsu in the doorway. If anything, Ittetsu looks confused. He looks up at Keishin before looking down at the sad excuse for a peace offering.

"It's not my birthday," he says simply, as if that's the only explanation for the cake in his hands. "What are you doing here?"

"Apologizing," Keishin swallows hard and breathes deeply through his nose. He had rehearsed this speech for hours last night. "There was a misunderstanding between us."

Ittetsu snorts, amused. "Yes, I know. Ukai, there's no hard feelings between us."

Ukai, of course, is his name. But it isn't Keishin, it isn't filled with that warmth that he's become to accustomed to. "No, that's not it," Keishin presses his lips together. "I misspoke that night."

"Please, we don't have to talk about this," Ittetsu shakes his head. "You can keep your apology cake, I don't-"

"I'm not gay," Keishin declares, tensing as he watches Ittetsu wince, but he pushes on. "But I think I'm bisexual."

Ittetsu, to his credit, doesn't react much at all. He blinks and leans forward, glancing down the hall before stepping back into his apartment. "You should come in."

Keishin, not looking a gift horse in the mouth, nods and steps inside.

It's a simple place for a young man living by himself, and Keishin regrets he can't take in more details about it. His cake is a heavy weight in his hands and Ittetsu's gaze is on him like a hawk.

"Say it again," Ittetsu's hands flex at his sides, a nervous habit Keishin recognizes. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not gay," Keishin feels like a broken record, but the point feels worth repeating. "But I like you, and I've never liked a guy like you before."

Ittetsu runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. "Ukai-"

"Call me Keishin, please," Keishin's voice cracks. "It's just us, after all."

Something in his tone catches Ittetsu's attention, because now that frustration has shifted into something soft and uncertain.

Keishin, incapable of letting silence hang between them when he has so much to say, starts talking.

"I've never liked a guy like you before. Not just a gay guy, but...a you," Keishin sighs and scrunches his face. "Fuck, I'm saying this wrong."

"You could be doing worse," Takeda offers, ever gracious in a way that Keishin doesn't deserve. "But I still don't understand what you're trying to say."

"I...I'm not a romantic guy," Keishin holds out the forlorn cake as some kind of evidence. "I've never been boyfriend material. I've dated girls and it was never long term."

"You're starting to do worse," Ittetsu teases. He takes the cake from Keishin's hands.

Keishin shifts on his feet. "I never dated long term before because there's never been anyone that I've wanted to date long term," Keishin takes a step forward, closer to Ittetsu. "But when it's you, I...I want to date you. I want to be long term. I wanna be the romantic guy."

Ittetsu's eyes go wide and that perfect blush spreads across his cheeks. "Keishin," he breathes, and Keishin swears that heaven must exist because that's what his name sounds like on his lips.

"I don't know if I'm bisexual or anything else, but I know how I feel about you," Keishin steps forward again, their chests close together. "You don't have to say anything now and you don't even have to feel the same way, but you-"

The cake clatters to the floor between them because Ittetsu's hands are much busier grabbing the collar of his shirt to drag him down and kiss him. This time, because he's not an idiot, Keishin kisses him back.

"You should think before you speak more often," Ittetsu whispers against his lips. Keishin can feel the curve of his smile. "It would have saved us a lot of grief."

"I'll keep that in mind," Keishin replies, and he seals that promise with another kiss.