I Can't Think Up A Clever Name for Haikyu Fics Right Now
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Suga should’ve known this day was coming but honestly the last year of rooming with his hot cop/best friend/unrequited crush had made him complacent. Things had been going so smoothly and settled into such a sweet little domestic routine that somewhere along the way, Suga had pushed what he’d known all along would happen into the darkest corner of his mind and left it.
Now here it was, rearing its ugly head at last, running circles in his brain, taunting him.
“Oh, I won’t be home for dinner Saturday night—guys at work pulled me into a mixer.”
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It didn’t matter if Asahi thought Nishinoya was cute, and not just because he was almost a foot shorter. It didn’t matter if Asahi wanted to run his fingers through that spiked hair or wanted to taste Noya’s mouth when it was still cool from two-biting a popsicle. None of that mattered because Nishinoya very obviously was not that way.
Nishinoya was wild, impetuous, and one of the coolest, manliest people Asahi knew. And he was really excited (yeah, and nervous) about traveling around the world with him.
As a friend.
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“U-um, Suga— Koushi—” Daichi stammered.
“Oh my god, you’re proposing.”
“What?”
“Huh?”
“Huh?” Daichi repeated dumbly.
“You’re not?” Suga paled.
“Did you...want me to?”
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Despite Bokuto’s one-track volleyball mind and penchant for really bizarre misunderstandings, Akaashi had never considered the possibility that Bokuto could really be that much of an idiot. He couldn’t, could he?
Bokuto was still grinning back at him, looking like the happiest man in the world.
Akaashi’s heart clenched.
He could be that much of an idiot.
And Akaashi was hopelessly in love with him anyway.
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“I know I’m charming,” Kuroo began, ignoring Kenma’s quick snort, “but I’m seriously thinking about wearing a ring. Something that says, ‘Lighthearted, business-as-usual flirting is okay. Look but don’t touch.’”
“That’s what a ring says to you?” Kenma asked, his tone too disinterested.
“Well, it won’t dissuade the more persistent ones,” Kuroo said slowly, listening for a stutter on the controller buttons.
“Then what’s the point.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Maybe it would be just enough to keep some of these carnivorous businesswomen from pinching my butt?” Kuroo ventured.
“That didn’t happen,” Kenma said a little too quickly.
“I didn’t make it up! I swear it actually happened!” Kuroo laughed. “C’mon, Kenma.” Kuroo wiggled his ass a little, more comically than suggestively. “Look at it and tell me you wouldn’t want to pinch it.” At Kenma’s emphatic ignoring, he tried another waggle. “Kenmaaa!”
“No,” Kenma said petulantly.
“No, you won’t look at it or no you wouldn’t pinch it?”
“Both.”
“Really?”
Kenma gave a little exasperated sigh. “I’ve known you how long and have I pinched it yet?”
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Nishinoya returned home (well, “home” was relative at this point in their travels across the world) to find Asahi on the couch, eyes riveted to his laptop, tears streaming down his cheeks.
“Dude, what’s wrong?” Nishinoya was next to him on the couch before he knew it. Had Asahi gotten an email about a death in the family? Was he just watching one of those soldiers-come-home-to-their-dogs videos? Maybe Suga had finally pulled off his flash mob proposal to Daichi? Another ASPCA commercial?
“Three thousand years, Noya!” Asahi replied, pained. “Three thousand years!”
Nishinoya blinked in confusion. “I was gone three hours. Not three thousand years.”
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