Archive of Our Own

In the darkness of 11 p.m. and strong light of street lamps, the traces on his cheek look like a smudged lipstick, so his appearance doesn’t come out as a suspicious one, even blending into the crowd and matching the atmosphere of fun, alcohol and sex around. His creased t-shirt and hoodie and tousled hair only ensure the random passer-by in the conviction that he had a great fuck, even if it’s only the beginning of the bonfire party.

Tooru notices Kuroo leaning against the plastic chair, which Bokuto has brought with himself and on which Bokuto is sitting right now, while having a heated discussion with Terushima next to him. Kuroo himself doesn’t participate in that discussion, but obviously listens to it, while paying attention to his surrounding, greedy for any kind of drama to look at.

Any other time Tooru would be spending the party by Kuroo’s side and waiting for drama to happen as they usually do. They take a great satisfaction from all these dramatic breakups and fights, hungry to learn more about others, even if all of this sounds cruel and portray them in bad light.

Kuroo’s lazy grin widens once he sees Tooru and he raises his arm with the bottle of alcohol as a greeting. Tooru approaches him without hesitation. If he needs some help, then his black-haired friend is a good shot.

“Are you looking for my companionship, my young padawan?” He says with a tiny slur in the last word.

“I’m looking for someone actually,” Tooru agrees, looking around. “Have you seen Iwa-chan? Or Mattsun? Or Makki?”

“I’d swear and bet my soul that this lipstick on your face is coming from one of them,” Kuroo bares his teeth in amusement. “You don’t have to pretend it’s not, y’know. Everyone knows you’ve been fucking each other for weeks, so, no point in hiding it?” He stops for a moment to wonder about something. “It was Makki who has just fucked you, right? He’d wear lipstick like this and still look hot. Iwaizumi though...” he nods, humming with appreciation.

“So have you seen them or I should go ask someone else?” Tooru sighs heavily, his voice lacking in any of hues that would indicate he has a mood for banter or friendly mischievousness. “You’ve just lost your soul right now.”

“Good I didn’t bet my scholarship money. I didn’t have any soul anyway.” Kuroo’s must have sensed Tooru’s mood, as he shifts his expression into something more serious. “Something happened?”

“I'll tell you another time. I'm still kind of shocked, sorry,” Tooru waves him off.

Kuroo nods and pushes the bottle into his Tooru’s hands. There is just enough liquid  two, max three gulps but who Tooru is to say no to Kuroo. “It will do you good.” His golden eyes then lands on Tooru’s palms. “Is that…?”

Tooru looks down. The knuckles of his thin and long fingers are covered in half-dried blood, which stirs up in him the mix of disgust and sick fascination.

Kuroo squeezes his arm in the quiet support.

“I don’t know about Iwa or Makki, but Matsukawa was going somewhere with Akaashi and Kiyoko. To the park probably. Who knows what shady business are they running right now,” he adds quieter, then his voice goes back to its usual strength. “It’d be the best if you found Suga.”

Who knows everything about everyone and everything, goes unsaid. The legends are stories about people whom Suga foretold their future, the rumours are stories about the books with trapped souls in, incantations in ancient akkadian language and circles carved in wood or drawn with chalk.

Both seem to be simultaneously genuine and fake, because with Suga there is no way to be certain.

Tooru takes a sip from the bottle, taking a delight in the sweet of Piña Colada liqueur on his tongue, which fills his mouth, irrigates his throat and gives the satisfaction. Nine out of ten times Tooru rejects any offers of drinking, the reasons being his weak toleration and too refined tastes that don’t allow him to reach for wrenching his guts vodka or simply bitter beer, but Kuroo has always had an alternative for Tooru.

“Thanks,” Tooru says, patting gently Kuroo’s thigh to show how much he appreciates his friend’s help. “I’ll go then,” he waves his free hand and goes with liqueur in another one.

[kuroo]: ur bf committed a murder or so it seems and s lookign for you to confess prob

[iwaizumi]: what? are you talking shit again just for talking shit

[iwaizumi]: i have no bf

[iwaizumi]: which one

[kuroo]: the one who committed a murder

[iwaizumi]: thanks for help u fucker

[kuroo:] the pretty one

[iwaizumi]: all are pretty

[iwaizumi]: cant you just say their name

[kuroo]: the one you fuck

[iwaizumi]: fuck you

[kuroo]: there is no need for you to have 4th bf so i decline, i have my own bf

[kuroo]: at least he doesnt deny being my bf lolz im so sorry for yours

[kuroo]: or actualyl i ahve some idea how to help u

[iwaizumi]: dont u even da r e

“Give me your number, darling.”

“Sorry,” Tooru answers without looking up from the screen of his phone, hoping to find some WiFi without password. “I don’t have any phone.” There is none. How is that possible, he is in the building of the fucking dorm. Also, his phone dies in this very moment, giving out a sad melody of defeat.

“You fucker, don’t ‘no phone’ me.”

Tooru raises his head to look at whoever he has to unfortunately deal with. But then he realizes who it is. “Oh, Makki,” he lets a sigh of relief. “I was looking for you. But why do you need my number? You have it.” He puts his phone back in the pocket and puts his glasses on the edge of the sink and turns the water on to wash the dirt and blood off his hands.

Hanamaki crosses his arms on the chest. He is already wearing a heavy combat boots (plus 100 points to attack when kicking) so it makes him look kind of more dangerous. Or would if not for his pink hair, a buttoned shirt with flowery pattern and a small pout that create rather a cute picture of annoyed animal.

His piercing in the lower lip shines in the artificial light of the bathroom.

“A certain motherfucker changed all my contact names into various anime characters’ names.”

“I can help you,” Tooru exclaims enthusiastically on the prospect of using his weaboo abilities.

“Sure. But later, because now I have only eleven percent and I’m going to set a airplane mode so-” Hanamaki suddenly stops with terror to finally realize that Tooru is washing off something red out of his hands and cheeks. “That’s blood.”

Tooru confirms by hum.

Hanamaki loses his shit.

“But... do you ever think about bacteria, germs?! Do you even have any idea how terrible are diseases are transmitted by- I can’t! Even!” He flinches and frantically reaches to his bag for some sanitizer he feels a need to use just from being around someone’s fucking blood. “Is that yours? Or someone’s else?”

“No. Or, uh, I don’t know really.”

“What! That’s terrifying, that’s disgusting. What about corpses?” A strong smell of sanitizer fills his nose. He makes a grimace at it, but at least he feels clean. “I can help you with them, I just need some gloves. Yeah. But this blood. Do you think-” he starts babbling, anxious, terrified, suddenly tired.

“Thanks? I didn’t kill anyone, so don’t worry.” Tooru looks at his wet from water and soap fingers. His knuckles are bruised, yes, but he doesn’t see anything else. Good. “Calm down. You see?” He shows his hands to Hanamaki from the distance. “I haven’t hurt myself so there was no way of any infection."

It works perfectly. Hanamaki’s breathing evens out.

Tooru is glad and regrets he couldn’t wash his hands earlier so Hanamaki didn’t have to even see this.

He wipes his hands off in handkerchief Hanamaki offers to him along with rubbing alcohol.

“It will kill the germs. Use it, right now.”

Hanamaki just can’t help it just how much of germophobe he is, and the view of blood doesn’t especially helps. He avoids drinking from the same vessel and doesn’t let anyone to have a sip or bite, even if he can come out as a asshole he isn’t. Every now and then he wipes his hands with rubbing alcohol or another sanitizer he carries in his bag. He brushes his teeth too often and with too much of the force, so he has regular appointments at dentist’s cabinet, because of erosion of tooth enamel.

Well, he does a little mind contact with other people. But can take to some degree. Like holding hands, high fives, hugs on greeting. Kissing his not-his-boyfriends-yet and exchanging saliva, or other activities. Just usage of soap or toothpaste after doing so is a necessity. The concept of strict personal space and don't-touch policy applies only when ones are not his friends, but it's usually after touching things and objects, like a door-knob, he has very intrusive thoughts about bacteria.

He doesn’t react with panic when it unfortunately happens, just takes his sanitizer and all is done.

But blood, whom view he detests, is what makes him vulnerable. He wonders why has it happened to be there in the first place.

“Short version or long one?” Tooru says casually, wearing his glasses again.

Hanamaki shrugs. “Just explain things.”

“Good, because I don’t wanna tell all the story without Iwa and Mattsun around.”

He leans against the cold tiles on the wall. The bathroom light makes the freckles on his nose more visible, his bones more prominent, his skin sickly pale. It’s kind of eerie, mostly mesmerizing how much the angle of light can change someone’s appearance, from beautiful, to just weird.

“A creepy misunderstanding. Someone thought that I’m seducing them and-” he never finishes this sentence but starts again and hesitates before his next words. “Someone’s nose may have been broken.”

“Someone?”

“Oh, you know them actually. From the art classes, the person that has been always complaining about apples being too fresh, ‘cause they want to paint them rotten?”

Hanamaki’s eyes narrow in focus when searching through his memories, then widen when he does find what he was looking for, then narrow again.

“I don’t get it completely though?” Some shadows cast on his face and he makes a few steps to Tooru, his expression all concerned. “You aren’t hurt, right?”

“No,” he replies. Beside bruised knuckles and being so mad he needed a smoke or three.

“I see that practising all these serves was good for you.”

They stand in a silence for a while, Hanamaki taking a delight from the warm air that comes from the hand dryer when he gets his hands close enough, Tooru savouring the icy cold of the wall tiles, he is almost laying on them, letting the skin on his cheeks to chill. He glances at the bathroom door - there is a sign of mermaid and centaur, instead of typical one that would indicate who bathroom is for. He snickers to himself.

If he remembers well, this dorm building is the one where one of his acquaintances lives in.

“Makki? I need to break into someone’s room, I’m inviting you”

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

SHOCK! a murderer on the campus; main suspects: oikawa tooru, matsukawa issei, hanamaki takahiro #confirmed

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

please be careful for ur own sake and dont go anywhre alone&if u encounter suspected ones, contact @hjmiwzm4

Iwaizumi Hajime @hjmiwzm4

@tetsurouuuv stop being an embarrassment for kenma and stop this before your stupidity go fuckin viral

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

@hjmiwzm4 he sad&mad & jealous bcs his bfs are murderers and hes not invited to their party

“Usually it’s me encouraging ideas like this. It’s kind of awkward to follow you.”

Tooru doesn’t say anything but reaches to his pants pockets. Then frantically checks each of his pocket in the hoodie and sighs very, very heavily, a bit disappointed with himself. “Fuck. I left my keys.”

He fucking left his keys in that place. Will he ever get a chance to get them back.

“So. What now?”

“Now, sweetie,” Tooru comes back to his previous self in no time, all sneers and maliciousness, “you give me your keys.”

Hanamaki stares at him and gives him a bunch of jingling keys.

Tooru pushes one of them into the door lock of Semi’s room and twists it. The door is open, revealing the interior of the place. The light is turned on, probably Semi’s fault.

“Ta-da,” Tooru bows.

Hanamaki looks pretty impressed. “Oh. How did you even learn that the key to our room work on Semi’s?”

“Once I wanted to break into his room, but then cowardly ran away.” Tooru does a gesture for pink-haired to go first. ”But without our keys I’d still manage.” He meets the incredulous look from Hanamaki. “I may or may not have these picklocks Issei once made.”

“Oh, I remember. The ones that suddenly disappeared into thin air and he had to do another picklocks.”

“Mhm.”

They enter, looking around. This dorm building has a bit more expensive prize, so it’s not really a surprise that living space there is bigger. Instead of just two small rooms, cramped hallway between them and one shared bathroom like Tooru, Matsukawa, Hanamaki and Iwaizumi have (it’s very cheap to share the living space with three other people and poor students appreciate low prices, okay), Semi and his roommate have not only separate rooms, one for each of them, a corridor and of course the bathroom, but also a balcony.

What a kingdom to live in , Tooru thinks.

“What a kingdom to live in,” whistles Hanamaki, as Tooru opens the door leading to the balcony, completely forgetting why he has come here in the first place. A fresh air hits their cheeks.

A second floor is a good place to observe what’s going on down there. Noise here is still hearable, but it’s not in its strength exactly, definitely not deafening. What’s more, it’s not too high for Tooru to not be able to make out the objects and people that are under him. Even with his glasses, he doesn’t see perfectly, a cruel curse of astigmatism.

“But what if I jump from this balcony,” Hanamaki wonders.

“Don’t jump,” Tooru answers in impassive voice.

“If I jump off ala Naruto way, with arms behind, will I reach faster the pavement?”

“If we take under consideration your weight, velocity, type of your ninjutsu and the amount of Naruto episodes, then no. That’s physics.”

“Pitiful,” Hanamaki comments. Then with abrupt liveliness points out at some figure.”Look who we have there.”

Tooru tilts his upper part of body slightly over the railing to see better, Hanamaki’s hand holding his hoodie back for safety, and sees a brightly ginger mop of hair. He just can’t take a grasp on why is this person rolling on the parking

“That’s concerning,” Hanamaki wrinkles his nose at the thought how many shoes have been walking on this pavement, dirtying it.

“Dumbass! You can’t just go away from” comes the voice from behind the tree that acts a gigantic shadows all over the parking. In this darkness Tooru normally wouldn’t probably see who it is, but he would recognizes this voice every time.

“C’mon Kageyama! Lay with me here, the rug is so chill and awww!”

“That’s an asphalt.”

“Whatever! Feel invited.”

Kageyama awkwardly stands for a moment, then crouches next to laying Hinata. His hand twitches and finally, starts caressing Hinata’s hair in a way, cat’s owner treats his favourite animal.

Hinata is either dead or sleeping, because he doesn’t react.

“So blessed. So moved. So grateful. Can’t believe this is my life,” Hanamaki comments, soundlessly clapping and wiping off the imaginary tears.

”My kouhai. On his way to get the love of his life. Doing so well. I’m not crying, you crying.”

“You have literal tears in your eyes.”

“I don’t,” Tooru gets out of the balcony to find the bathroom and get some paper to blow his nose. He’s in the corridor when Hanamaki catches up with him and grabs his wrist.

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

“Good morning.”

“Goodnight, really.”

“No, it’s 12.03 a.m. already,” Hanamaki corrects him.

Now, up close, Tooru really realizes how Hanamaki’s heavy boots make him taller, how his lashes seem to be so long, his neck to appetizing, all of these realizations happening again. Hanamaki’s lips are moving, Tooru doesn’t know if it’s Hanamaki whispering something what isn’t supposed to be heard or him, who doesn’t pay attention, as he is busy appreciating the flesh of Hanamaki’s lips.

“What?”

Hanamaki leans forward and captures his lips with his own. Tooru freezes and a moment later, reciprocates the kiss with the same force, wrapping his arm around Hanamaki’s shoulders and neck to ground himself, to have something what would hold him here, as he is falling, falling into the depth of lust and falling once more time (the thousandth one) in love with Hanamaki.

Tooru’s other hand presses on the doorknob next to him (of course it’s him) and both falling into Semi’s room. Tooru stumbles on something on the floor and both land hardly on the bed. which creaks.

Hanamaki’s weight feels so good on him, he wouldn’t even mind to lose his breath for pink-haired. Hanamaki locks Tooru’s head with his elbows, both by either of side.

Their lips say a temporary goodbye as they fix their positions to set more comfortably on not their bed, Hanamaki’s knee rubbing against Tooru’s groin and eliciting an obscene moan. He finally gets rid off his t-shirt and to celebrate it their mouth clash again, stifled sounds trapped.

Tooru slips his hand under Hanamaki’s floral buttoned shirt, traces his fingers on the chest, stomach’s muscles, his v which finishes in place where pants are covering. The digits of his other palm are dragging on the back, making the other arch his spine and revealing provocatively his neck.

Tooru sucks on Hanamaki’s bottom lip, specifically the areas where his piercing is. He remembers well that pink-haired once said that sucking it feels pretty orgasmic and Tooru’s memory proves to be good when he earns a low groan coming from his-

Who? His roommate, friend, lover? Yes. His boyfriend, one of them?

They never talked about it. Not even Iwaizumi and Matsukawa who are more straightforward alone than Tooru times three. While having a casual open unofficial relationship, they have been just postponing the talk about the situation on later, over and over, to finally label The Talk as pretty uncomfortable to bring this topic out so late.

Words aren’t needed to state that yes, he feels a fucking lot for his roommates. Volcano eruption, avalanche, name it and he can tell how natural disaster reflects his state of mind. He is quiet about it, but he surely isn’t as blind as Kuroo likes to tell him - he knows that the affection each of them has for other three aren’t imaginary, he can see that in the sighs Iwaizumi lets out when he is worried whenever one of them is sick, in breakfasts Hanamaki makes for them out of the cheapest groceries or when Matsukawa removes Tooru’s shirt when they are short of breath.

Words aren’t needed really.

But he would be glad to find out where he stands, if everyone wants it so strongly as others. Because what if the topic is so being avoided, because one of them isn’t as willing to have a serious relationship where he would say to people ‘ yeah that’s my boyfriends I’m not ashamed of ’?

Hanamaki’s pressure on his intimate area prompt him to take it further but then they hear a crash and very loud knock into the room they are in.

[iwaizumi]: guys where are you

[iwaizumi]: are you even aware of this shit kuroos made bcs of you

[iwaizumi]: why nobody is here when i need you to just to fukin answer and everyone’s here when at 4 am tooru is bringing his conspiracy theories

[iwaizumi]: you have chosen the worst time for not replying

[iwaizumi]: but really

[iwaizumi]: im waiting for whatever

Now when they are not occupied with almost fucking, Tooru has a great opportunity to inspect Semi’s room with his eyes. He doesn’t really look for anything specific, just wants to see how the milieu principle applies to Semi. The first glance shows him white walls, one bare and the collateral one full of pinned down sketches. The room is messy, really - there is a high pile of clothes on the chair and the desk doesn’t have a pile of books because they are all scattered around, opened or with objects inside as a bookmark. More personal things seem to be well hidden in the boxes under the bed Tooru can see at second glance, but he doesn’t intend to looks through them of course. Other things on the floor are either paper balls or sketches that unstuck from the wall.

Hanamaki smoothes his creased shirt, a small blush still painting his cheeks pink.  “Oh, Yahaba,” he says very calmly, “I’d never expect you to be there. Do you care to tell why did you step into when the situation between us was heating?”

Yahaba looks at him totally done and the conversation didn’t even last ten seconds.

“Hearing you when you are so busy would leave a mental scar on me. I’d rather throw myself off this balcony.” He sighs and quietly adds, “It’s like seeing your parents doing... the stuff.”

“Awww,” Hanamaki cooes in saccharine voice. “Then it’s perfect that we weren’t too much into it or you’d have to do a Naruto fly.”

“Naruto fly?”

“Don’t mind him,” Tooru finally joins the conversation, already going into his business mode. “What’s more important, what are you doing in Semi’s place?”

“That’s Shirabu’s?”

They look confused at each other.

“Both?” suggests Hanamaki.

Tooru fixes his glasses as if that were to give him a better insight into the situation. He totally bases his behaviour off these anime characters. Only the sound of light reflecting on the glasses is needed.

“And what exactly are you doing in your nemesis’ place?”

Yahaba follows the rule that the lack of answer is the best answer.

“Love-hate relationship then-”

“No!” Yahaba shouts, all red, is that from being flustered or already angry, who knows. “I’m looking for evidences.”

“That was so easy,” Hanamaki sneers, setting his chin on Tooru’s shoulder. “You’re so cruel, Tooru, forcing your own kouhai to confess to all these dirty things, reveal his dark secrets. You’re so fucking hot,” he whispers to his ear and gnaws on the earlobe, effectively evoking the pleasurable shudders in other.

“No, just stop,” Yahaba whines.

Hanamaki leaves Tooru’s ear in peace. His chin is back on the shoulder.

“I was just hoping to finally discredit Shirabu. He’s so infuriating.”

“You were saying the same about Kyoutani.”

“No, I was saying that he was annoying, not infuriating. And I didn’t have to stole his key, broke into his room, meet my dear senpais in the same place because they had an idea to broke in at the same moment as me, then I didn’t have to listen to your filthy moans. So, yeah, Shirabu is infuriating because I had to go through all of this because of him.”

Hanamaki readies himself to reply with another retort, but they hear a terrifying click of the door and freeze. Hanamaki re-evaluates all his life choices, Tooru starts planning out his life in the jail, Yahaba protectively holds his bag, deciding that he will fight to the death.

The shadow appears on the aperture between the floor and the door and they hold their breath.

Door opens. They shout. Suga shouts.

“What on earth are you!” Suga doesn’t even finish his sentence, just slowly inhales the air and exhales it to calm down, Tooru doing the same. All of them need a few seconds to come back to their normal selves and come to terms with the fact that there won’t be any jail, any fight, any dead body.

Suga glances at Tooru. “You needed me?”

Tooru looks with a bewilderment. “How do you know? I didn’t call you.”

“I knew anyway. All our energy, thoughts, ideas we have, all is floating. Surrounding us,” he explains very slowly, as if what he is saying was a thing each first grader already knew. They even start feeling stupid. ‘You need to pick up on this energy, and segregate it to see which information is intended to be ours.”’

“What kind of telepathy-jutsu it is,” Hanamaki whispers into Tooru’s hair.

But beside this small comment, they are all speechless, gaping at Suga incredulously. There it is, the proof that Suga has more than five senses.

“So. Can I help you somehow?”

Tooru nods vigorously. “Yeah. Do you know how can I find Iwa and Mattsun?”

Suga seems to reflect on something, doing this priest/monk/yoda thing where the person closes their eyes and sets their arms on the chest in a way that only the sleeves of the cloth are visible, the hands wholly hidden.

One of the eyelids rises up, and then, the time which has been flowing so leisurely, speeds up. Grey-haired reaches to his hoodie pocket and pulls out a sheet of paper from it, not even the smallest crinkle on it, no damage at all despite it being seemingly some time in the small space of the pocket.

“I’ll draw the map for you, okay? With some hints and quests you’re going to do.”

Tooru and Hanamaki nod in the synchronization, mesmerized by Suga, whatever he’s doing, a mood he creates around just by simple existing. The paper is being filled with various letters, circles and symbols that are emanating in something what only Suga can truly understand, who is a being above them, mere humans.

“You need to remember not to diverge from the path to your destination which you are heading to,” Suga warns them. “These, who are honest with their hearts, are rewarded with the answers they are looking for. Yahaba, show me your bag in this very moment.”

A soap bubble of the magic disappears.

Tooru wakes up from the out-of-body like experience, unsure if he heard well.

"Yes, Yahaba. Right fucking now, please."

Yahaba shakes an invisible dust off his shirt and brushes some unruly strand off his face, revealing his eyes, filled with fire, ready to fight and sacrifice of his life.

And brutally pushes his way through them, throwing himself to the door. A sad part is where he stumbles over the same thing Tooru tripped over earlier, making him fall on bed. In contrast to him, Yahaba falls on the floor.

With the speed they would never expect from him, Suga gets to Yahaba’s bag and unzips it. And stills.

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

wow that crazy how many people has been messaging me to stop accussign oikawa of smth so terrible

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

ill let u kno there were 5witnesses who has heard him humming anime opeinng in his sleep&he also drools so

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

murdering sbd isnt even the worst thing abt oikawa tooru lol

Iwaizumi Hajime @hjmiwzm4

@tetsurouuuv if you share one more private thing about tooru ill make sure ur corpses will be fukin found on this campus

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

@hjmiwzm4 I apologize and understand.

Bokuto @fukuroace

@tetsurouuuv bro what happened why is ur punctuation so perf, did iwa threaten in private messages

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

@fukuroace No, of course not.

Suga jumps off the balcony.

No, Tooru corrects himself in his thoughts, Suga has made it seems so. Because in reality, Suga is just quickly getting down, using the balconies railings and window sills.

Yahaba shouts in frustration and does the same, following Suga. “That’s the only blackmailing material I found!”

Tooru would never assume that Yahaba can be this agile and have such a good sense of balance. “What even was in that bag?!” He yells to Yahaba.

“Some voodoo fucking dollies!”

“I’m sorry! But it’s a disgrace to exist!” yells back Suga, already on the first floor.

whattheactualfuck.

Tooru forgets about the book he was supposed to take back from Semi and is running down the stairs, the first time in his life deeming the lift to be too slow, Hanamaki just a few steps behind him. Maybe, after all, they are the responsible ones who don’t risk their lives in the attempt of quickly getting out of the building.

They are barely on time, just managing to see quickly shifting shadows that Suga and Yahaba are.

It’s just a half of a minute of this insane marathon, when they are able to see flames of the celebratory bonfire. There are a lot of people around, as it’s the fucking centre of the party, alcohol spilling, corks of the champagnes shot up in the air long time ago, the smell of the weed in some circles easy to distinct. It’s easy to make out two running figure amongst the lazy crowd.

Suga pushes his way through the crowd, attracting attention, especially that another person Yahaba is following him, shoving the people from his way. But there is no way for the younger to catch up, so of course he can’t prevent the next actions.

Tooru sees it happen in a few frames, each rather tragic. Suga stopping by the bonfire. Suga raising his arms, each holding a dolly. Suga throwing them angrily in the bonfire, Yahaba in the background with his mouth twisted in ‘no’. A moment of frightening stasis. And the last one, flames shooting 5 meters up.

Tooru searches with his eyes through the mass and finds him. Kuroo smiling manically, finally awaiting the dramatic moments of this party.

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

Shocking news! A role model medicine student went rogue [PICTURES]

picture

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

The flames reached almost 10m of height before student who caused the fire threw a holy water in the bonfire, thereby extinguishing it

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

Sugawara Koushi denied having any ill intentions, deeming it’s all because of ‘impurity of voodoo which were too dangerous to exist’

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

its been also confirmed by plenty of witnesses that oikawa&hanamaki were seen nearby the the place of accident

Kuroo Tetsurou @tetsurouuuv

has all of it been planned out to get away

A tactical retreat is deemed to be the most logical solution. Having anything in common with the happenings (flames getting plus 300 bonus points to the strength and height) would throw a shade on their already unstable reputation.

Not like Hanamaki has a good one to in general, he is indifferent about it anyway; but Tooru definitely has something to still fight for, especially after this situation when everyone suspected that he and Ushijima have an affair. Most of the rumours can be easily dissipated with one or two tweets from him but this one has been a living hell. Not even because it’s about Ushijima, but the reason they have meet in that cafe was because Ushijima wanted to ask him ‘ how to ask two individuals on date because apparently you have a great experience with three people at once, Oikawa ’. And before even Tooru managed to give him some hints (‘just call them and meet, Ushiwaka!’) everyone were already mad that, seemingly, he’s hitting on another person who is taken. Ushijima wasn’t then but two hours after their chat, yes. Question marks in Tooru’s head were multiplying then as he has never understood what train of though people have to believe in this shit.

If not for Kuroo’s and Iwaizumi’s intervention it would never end.

Anyway, as Hanamaki and Tooru are evacuating, some people look at them and shouts something but it can’t be heard in all this noise, Tooru is only able to catch the words ‘dangerous’ and ‘corpses’, however the way they are doing so reminds Tooru of this incident with Ushijima.

When the crowd left behind them and hearing own thoughts isn’t a problem, Tooru pulls the Suga’s paper out and attempts to analyze the symbols on it. It’s frustrating because he really can’t make out anything of it, all of it looks too vague and abstract. Hanamaki leans to peer at it.

“We should go to the park.”

Tooru raises his eyebrows, asking for some explanation.

“You see this letter, ‘k’? It looks like Suga tried to draw a leaf. It resembles me of corinthian order. Anyway, leaves mean trees, don't they.”

“So you learnt something on the art history.”

Hanamaki hands his phone to Tooru. “I manage. As thanks for help, can you figure out who is who in my contact list? We’ll be able to call Iwa and Issei. Just use it responsibly, there’s only eight percent left.”

And while Tooru looks with excitement at the screen, Hanamaki wraps one of his arm around Tooru’s waist and guides him toward the park which isn’t a part of campus but students definitely don’t believe in the official statement a dean does every half of a year to remind them that’s illegal to sneak into the park after the gates of it are closed. And living in tent there is also not approved.

They climb up the fence, Makki faster as he wants to quickly jump off it and wipe his hands with sanitizer.

“Be careful, roots and low branches.”

Tooru averts the eyes from the blinding light of the screen and raises his head. There is a sharp inhale, the result of pent-up surprise.

His face is just a dozen or so centimetres from another one, turned upside down. Some things can be fully understood only if they are looked on from the perspective, not from close-up. One step back reveals a living person hanging on the branch on their legs.

“Noya!”

“Makki?” Noya grips the branch with his hands and pushes the rest of his body forward, so he does a spin in the air and lands elegantly on his legs, breathing out ‘rolliiing thunder’.

Right away, another head emerges from the leaves one tree farther. The ground sends vibrations as someone hits the floor, simply jumping from the height, not doing any acrobatic moves like Noya can.

“Tanaka,” Tooru greets his teammate. Tanaka kind of hums the answer and gives him a very strong high five. Both don't let a hiss out even if they want to.

They’ve known each other for a year and half and still didn’t settle who can give another more painful high five. Tooru has a powerful hand, his serves and reputation of Grand King isn’t for nothing, and Tanaka is a wing spiker with a wild strength, necessary to defeat the opponents’ blocks. They have bonded over high fives (who hisses from the pain is a fucking loser) and concluded an alliance.

“What are you doing here?” Noya queries, always curious about everything. “Why aren’t you at the party as always?”

“No mood for it really,” Hanamaki replies for both of them and shrugs. “And you? You’re like party animal.”

“Nah. We were on the party.”

“Got bored.”

“Y’know, the same shit everywhere and all the time.”

“No point in seeing it twice.”

“Ah, I get you-”

And when Makki has a lively conversation with carefree duo with ability to finish each other's sentences, Tooru settles on the ground under the tree and goes back to figuring out Makki’s contact list. That’s all surely Kunimi’s work as he’s the only one who would be able sneak on Hanamaki, take a phone and make a harmless but so annoying prank like this.

There are some obvious ones like Kenma, alias Sora, or Terushima as Uta from Tokyo Ghoul. He takes a delight in figuring it all out. It’s like a puzzles, but a lot less frustrating and more satisfying. His grey cells are working to connect the common traits that anime characters and real people have. Each character is from rather recognizable anime, starting from Naruto or D. Gray Man, through shows like Akatsuki no Yona and Steins Gate, finishing on Donten ni Warau, or even Vampire Knight.

“Y’know there’s more of us? That three on the left, Kyoutani is sitting there right now. Or this one. Not this, this. Not a half of an hour ago Yachi and Kiyoko had a good perch on the branches over there, easy to get up and get down.”

“Most of them is scared of this party or mad because of it. This place is like sanctuary for all these poor souls. Another option are these trysts that couples like to have in this park. But they are never here for long and never manage to do the do. Maybe it’s because we start attacking them.”

“Wha-”

“Hey, Makki, I may have figured out which contact is Mattsun,” Tooru says and presses to call.

A heavy metal blares out above them. Matsukawa’s ringtone. And there he is, sitting calmly on the branch, eight meters above them all, hidden deep in leaves and shadows and then, waving to them.

“Mattsun?” Tooru shouts, because Matsukawa has the nerve not to pick up and still look them straight in the eyes, with the deadliest deadpan or devilish smirk of his. Tooru can only imagine it in this darkness, but it’s probably true. “Stop playing Pocahontas.”

“Didn’t you want to say Tarzan?” Hanamaki cuts in immediately. “Of course there is a scene with Pocahontas on the tree, and her grandma is basically a tree. But comparing to Tarzan who’s been all the time jumping from one liana to another? It’s just… unless you wanted to emphasize how beautiful, charming and full of grace Mattsun is? By the way, did you know that Tarzan is actually a royalty? A brother to Elsa and An-”

Noya is impressed. Tooru is not. He heard this theory hundredth times. Still he likes listening to Makki’s rambling, because it’s cute when someone get so emotional about something they love. It doesn’t mean Tooru will spare the teasing. Just like Makki doesn’t with Tooru’s anime obsession.

“Nice, Makki. Did you watch this evening some Disney movie as a bedtime cartoon?”

“Fuck you, babe. And I watched Naruto for you.”

“You liked it.”

“I liked reading Naruto theories. But you read fanfictions. We know what’s worse.”

Tooru raises his arms in defensive gesture.

Matsukawa doesn’t pick his phone, but starts getting down, so both Hanamaki and Tooru return to their previous activities. Tooru ignores the sound of ongoing conversations behind him, hearing only random fragments, that seemed too weird without context he doesn’t need to know.

“Hey.”

A deep, husky voice reaches his ears as Matsukawa sits beside him, his dark curls and warm breath tickling Tooru’s neck. He wears a flannel shirt, typical element of wardrobe that everyone on the computer graphics major owns. Do they wear it for some kind of a joke or is that just a coincidence, no student can say.

Matsukawa looks through his shoulder at the phone in Tooru’s hand. Tooru senses the not asked question.

“Solving anime puzzles enigma. I’m outraged to find myself under Kise Ryouta,” Tooru explains in flat voice, not really outraged.

“You don’t like him?”

“No, it’s more that… these quizzes on the internet were saying that I’m like Zuko.”

“Yeah, but you were answering in a way to get Zuko.”

“You don’t have to be impolite,” Tooru pouts and starts counting off his fingers. “The honour thing, a tragic backstory-” Matsukawa raises his eyebrows at this. “Being villainous according to some.”

Of course Matsukawa knows who Tooru is talking about - all four of them spent hours watching Tooru’s favourite episodes of Avatar: The Last Airbender. They needed to do some rearranging to move Hanamaki’s bed next to Tooru’s so they could watch it without being squashed like sardines on the small space. Once they sat, shifting was dangerous - there were snacks and bottles and cans on the bed in places that weren’t occupied by them. It was better to watch everything, while eating and drinking and eventually go to sleep when food was gone.

For Matsukawa watching ATLA was just refreshing his memories as he watched it when still being just a kid. Tooru respected only the third part of this show, so it left Iwaizumi and Hanamaki confused at the plot sometimes when the astrophysics student turned on the random episode - they focused on the plot to understand it, Iwaizumi analyzing things in silence, while Hanamaki didn’t bother and was asking hundred questions. Why don’t they trust Zuko? What is this thing with Sokka’s girlfriend being a Moon? Can’t Avatar just go and defeat this bad guy since he has a power over all four elements? Does Azula has blue flames to make it easier to evaluate who has the upper hand when she’s in fight with Zuko?

“But you’re not? You’re sweet.”

Tooru can’t help the heat spreading all over his cheeks. “Why are you like this, Mattsun.” His words are stifled as he hides his face between knees. Matsukawa doesn’t hear him, but guessing what Tooru's said isn't that hard.

“There, there,” he says, hugging Tooru’s hunched form and gives a chaste kiss on his hair, his lips brushing his ear. “You may be Zuko for me, if you want.”

“Hey, you, do you know that’s fucking illegal to show affection like this?” Hanamaki approaches them and leans forward to give Matsukawa a hug for a greeting. Matsukawa smuggles a peck in Hanamaki’s arm somehow. “Okay, I’m into illegal stuff. But as much as you’ve convinced me, I’m not gonna have problems because of illegally being in this park at night.”

Tooru stands up and hands Suga’s paper to Noya. “You and Tanaka are friends with Suga, right? Do you understand his... drawings?”

Tanaka yawns loudly. “Are you for real? That’s a fake shit.” Then he rips the paper out of Noya’s hand and caresses his imaginary beard. “Well. It says that you should go ahead, ahead and ahead, and then turn left.”

Hanamaki imagines that route in his head and frowns.

“That’s a fast food restaurant. You’re making it up.”

Noya elbows Tanaka in ribs. “You hear him? He says we’re making it up,” he whispers in theatrical way for all of them to hear. “He doesn’t know.”

“What I don’t know?”

“Nothing what you should be concerned about,” Tanaka assures him, although the grin and tone of his voice suggests the opposite. “You can take my guess or not, whatever, you don’t have any other hints anyway.”  

Hanamaki contemplates his choices and shrugs finding none other than this. “I’m hungry anyway.”

[iwaizumi]: have you ever been disappointed with so many people at once because they have phones to make a selfie or check social networks, however when it comes to simple texting back or picking up the call, suddenly they dont understand what phone is used for

[iwaizumi]: if u cant guess, yeah thats what im feeling rn

Finally having his coffee in front of him, Tooru is very contented. It’s a bliss to taste the bitterness of it after so long, after very tiring five hours without stimulating caffeine. He reaches for the fries Hanamaki bought.

“But you can take only five, I’m hungry too,” Hanamaki warns, and pulls out his own chopsticks out of his bag, grossed out by the perspective of touching something so greasy with his fingers. “I’m counting.”

“Yeah, you already have coffee on my expense, don’t eat Makki’s food.” Matsukawa says and, takes five fries at once, earning a glare from pink haired. He doesn’t have dilemmas as Hanamaki and bites into his own burger and draws back so the sauce doesn’t pump out of it on his clothes and on the tray instead.

A fast food restaurant at two in the morning isn’t as quiet as it would seem so actually - there is a woman talking animatedly to the phone, while stirring her tea with plastic stick. There is also student in the corner, three cups dirty with already consumed coffee next to his laptop he is typing on furiously. Some grandma eats her salad, quietly observing all of the people, including them. Not so far away, a group of students from their university, who also ditched the party, are lazily drinking cola and shakes to prevent the tomorrow hangover.

“We should call Iwa.”

“Don’t bother, I found you first.”

They jump not expecting to suddenly hear this gravelly voice, that gives off the threatening aura. But it always does,  Tooru moves closer to the wall affixing the seal to his fate, because Hanamaki and Matsukawa sit together so the only free seat is beside him.

Iwaizumi slides on the seat, sighing. He looks so dead like after some of his nursing internships. But he isn’t having them right now, just in another few months, so the only reasons why he’s like this may be the bonfire party, a companionship of Kuroo in excess or something what one, or three of them have done.

“Okay, first. Has any of you killed anyone recently?” None of them reacts. “Or did a damage?”

Tooru hesitantly raises his hand.

“Kind of, but-”

“Ah, then whatever,” Iwaizumi waves him out, not impressed. Anyone could kill other person in front of him and he wouldn’t care, he has saw too much to react. “Another matter. Can’t you use your phones or what?” However not being able to get in contact has been always the easy way for him to get annoyed.  

None of them seems to be engulfed by guilt.

“I was in the Emo Corner.” Matsukawa justifies himself. “The Emo Branch, really. Me, Kiyoko and Akaashi. Shedding tears and all that stuff. I think the point of it was to be a therapeutic experience, but I’m not sure it worked for Akaashi. He died.”

Iwaizumi runs his hand through his soft dark hair that Tooru wants to caress and does so. For a moment it seems that Iwaizumi will flick his hand off his head, but he allows it to stay and his expression softens a bit. Matsukawa sends Tooru a telepathic thanks for saving their lives and not letting Iwaizumi to rot in jail.

Raised eyebrows prompt Matsukawa to tell a story that would explain the context of the Emo Branch.

“It was too loud on the party and wanted to have a chat about our problems, pain of our lives and regrets. And park is a good location. Akaashi dropped out of our sweet conversation after third bottle of something pretty full of alcohol and poisonous. Then Noya and Tanaka came with Yachi and I wasn’t going to bother Kiyoko when she had Yachi around.”

“Are they together?” Tooru asks excited. “Like together together.”

“They’ve been together together for, like,” Matsukawa glances at the phone, “ forty three minutes.”

“Oh, good,” Hanamaki smiles. “It’s been tense. Not in a bad way. But you could feel this romantic air around them.”

The topic hits a bit too close home, reminding them about the situation with their own relationship. A very uncomfortable silence lengthens and each pretends that he is not feeling uneasy at all - Hanamaki looks around eating slowly his fries with chopsticks, Matsukawa checks the time on his phone second time and definitely too long. Iwaizumi sips Tooru’s coffee despite it being black, no sugar, no milk, a lot of caffeine and it’s already alarming as he hates coffee, extolling tea instead. And Tooru puts his glasses off and starts wiping them with the sleeve.

When he is done, he takes another fry.

“Where is your wallet by the way?” Matsukawa inquires. “I never paid for you actually, until now.”

“He also doesn’t have his keys. That’s unusual,” Hanamaki pours oil to the fire, as always fucking helpful. “And he said he left them. Truly, thought-provoking, right?”

“No glasses, I can’t hear you, lalala-”

“That’s not how glasses work-”

“What?” Iwaizumi turns fully to face Tooru, who shuts his eyes, to emphasize how blind he is and thereby he can’t join this discussion- It works, until he feels Iwaizumi forcing him to open his eyes with fingers and Tooru hisses at being defeated. “You’re too obsessed with having your things by yourself, almost paranoid.”

Uh. Tooru wanted to meet with them to talk about this in the first place actually. But now, when they are all together and this topic is brought up, he isn’t that eager.

His glasses are put back on his nose.

The rest of them is staring at him expectantly.

“You know how I’m a art model for classes,” he starts and gets interrupted by Hanamaki’s loud and happy agreement, after all, that’s how they meet, by Tooru showing his nudity on the art classes, Hanamaki (and other students) drawing him, trying to get every detail on the paper. But other than that, they didn’t have any contact, each of them having his own circle of friends. Only when they were paired as roommates in their second class of university along with Iwaizumi and Matsukawa, the last one already being a friend with Hanamaki) they really started talking. Especially that the first words pink-haired said to Tooru were I almost didn’t recognize you with your clothes on.

Iwaizumi and Matsukawa hush him, but Tooru smiles, getting more courage to say what he has to say.

“And some students sometimes ask me to pose for them or something. Privately, ‘cause they want to practise. Sometimes in clothes, other times nude. Normal thing, a routine really,” he shrugs. “So-”

“It’s done.”

Tooru grabs the sheets which were laid on the chair he was sitting and posing on and wears them around his body in a weak imitation of ancient Greek or Roman robe. He approaches the desk to get the cash and finally go enjoy the evening. He didn’t plan on doing this today -  but money are priority if you want to live with satisfying result. Well, it’s hard not to mention about his mounting up feelings for his roommates when talking about satisfying life but everything has its borders.

“Don’t bother with wearing this, really.”

”Sure, a tiny amount of people throw stupid jokes about me being naked blahblahblah but it never gets out of control, because then I give them ultimatum, either they shut up or I’m going. So they shut up.”

Tooru stares at the money, too much of it, and feels the tug on the sheets behind him.

“Are you seducing everyone whom are you posing for?” The warmth of another person is explicitly too close for his comfort. “Are you using art modelling as a way to fuck with everyone for money?”

“What exactly are you suggesting,” Tooru grips the edges of the desk to keep himself calm when these hands are tracing his shoulders, back. “That I’m prostituting myself?”

They press themselves closer.

“Are you not?”

“This guy just, like, gave me four times more money for art modelling to fuck me raw, because apparently that’s what I do with everyone? I don’t even know if that’s another rumor somebody created out of spite or just guy who misunderstood the concept of private session, either way, jesus fucking christ, it’s just so fucking sick” he rubs his eyes, annoyed at sheer recalling what happened. “I just pushed them off me firstly, but well. Haha, guess. It didn’t work?”

“You like it fuckin’ rough, bitch,” they hiss and grab him for his hair, but Tooru, acting on his instincts, uses this to get closer and hit them in the face with his elbow. Adrenaline in his system makes his aim worse, but the effect is even more rewarding, as his elbow lands on their neck.

“Long story short, without descriptions of each of our fighting style and moves, we had a moment of violent negotiations. And then it wasn’t even about the matter of fucking and more about. I got slapped and my arm twisted. Yes, Makki I’m alright, don’t interrupt please and don’t worry, you should see the guy.”

When he finds himself in a trap, his right arm immobilized, he doesn’t panic. It’s a perfect chance to finish it - he tilts his head back, just to squash the nose behind him. There is a crunch, as sick as whoever is after eating too salty meal.

“Just to be sure that he won’t trouble me, he also earned a kick in the groin.”

He gathers his things, quick to get the fuck out of here, not really caring about the gradually appearing ache on his knuckles and other places, although his cheek feels like multiple needles jabbing in. He wears his clothes outside, one student passes him not even paying any attention to his half-nakedness in their drunken state.

He brushes his hair out of face, staining his cheek with something liquid.

While wearing hoodie, he can’t make out the usual jingling of his keys and the realization hits him - he left it along with his wallet on the desk.

“So basically, I need you to go to his place and take my keys and wallet back.”

“Fuck your wallet, are you fucking alright?” Hanamaki repeats, the one simple question getting stuck inside his head and demanding more than one confirmation.

“Have you really broken his nose?” Matsukawa finally asks, a tone of his voice flat and lacking in any emotion.  Though his legs, outstretched under the table, brush Tooru’s calves to give him a silent message that they all are going to be beside him, support him, listen to him.

Iwaizumi’s knuckles crack like fireworks

“I’m delighted to inform you all that I’m not a princess to rescue and I’m capable of defending myself,” Tooru says dryly and takes his coffee back from Iwaizumi with glare. Would he dare to accidently spill his coffee while flexing his biceps, Tooru may or may not snap on him. No matter how much he appreciates these muscles. “Yes, the nose is broken for sure.”

“We’ve never told that you are weak or something,” Iwaizumi says with his voice low and eyes ready to fight, and sets his chin on the palm, his elbow propping against the table surface. “What did even give you this idea?”

“Oh yeah?” Tooru takes his hands off the cup of coffee, turns to face Iwaizumi and puts his hand with all fingers spread widely on the table, for the emphasis. “Then why the heck are we still not fucking together?”

“We fuck each other pretty regularly,” Matsukawa points out.

Hanamaki snorts.

“I meant… I thought that we’re avoiding this talk just because we’re so bad in communicating but that’s me right? You think that what? I’m not ready or I don’t want it?”

Shots are fired. The world is in conflagration. The end is near.

“Well-

Tooru shrugs. “Whatever. I thought it would be fun to talk about.” But he has made a mistake, that’s not fun. He stares at each of his roommates, attempting to get into their mind and read their thoughts. It doesn’t work and, finally, he covers his face with one palm, not wanting to look at them anymore. “Whatever whatever whatever. I didn’t say anything. Forget. I’ll just go back to my room and die, while smoking weed from Mattsun’s hidden stash and watching some sad movie. Bye, hope not to see you in at least four hours.”

The problem is that between him and his way to get out is Iwaizumi, blocking his way to even stand up. After a few moments of scuffle, Tooru loses but it’s only because Hanamaki took his cup of coffee and now is holding it in a way that threatens spilling out the liquid. He lets Iwaizumi push him slightly back and now he sits with pout and his arms crossed.

“I bet he’d watch Gladiator. ”

“Seconded. All these tears and snots.”

“Thirded indeed but you’re not allowed to touch my stash.”

“I’d watch another movie just for you to be wrong.” Under the table his ankle meets a kick, surely from Hanamaki who has suspiciously too indifferent expression to not be the guilty one. Also, a kick from heavy combat boots kind of stings. “ What. ”

“Nothing. You deserve a small kick for realizing after weeks that’s you we’re waiting for you.”

“What? You could just tell me.”

“Yeah, Makki, he’s right,” Iwaizumi flicks delicately his forehead. “You seemed pretty anxious about our relationship or whatever. We’ve decided to wait as you will be ready to start anything, y’know, together.” He coughs nervously. “We thought that maybe you’re still not over someone and that’s why you’re hesitating and not bringing this topic out as you do with everything.”

Tooru can make out a sound of typing on the laptop in the background, the voice announcing another ready order or laughter from the group of students while blood rushes through his ears with low regular thump.

Embarrassment paints his cheekbones pink and he mumbles some combination of unfinished words.

“Huh? I can’t hear you, repeat,”

“I was anxious because I was never in serious relationship, okay? I didn’t and don’t want to fuck up my first one.”

Matsukawa chokes on his food and Hanamaki just glances to make sure if he’s not dying and then his eyes are at Tooru again. “So we could have fun so much earlier!” He throws his arms out.

“Wow,” Matsukawa manages to breath out in weak voice. “Tell me also that we were your first ones in bed.”

Tooru becomes a personification of shrug emoji.

Iwaizumi groans. “You didn’t tell us and we were a bit too rough, ugh,” he leans his head back to rest it on the backrest of and stares at the ceiling, hoping he looks more exhausted than in the middle of existential crisis. Hashtag regrets, hashtag whyme.

“What can I say. That’s a weird experience to get a concussion from getting your head hit when you tried to fuck me against the wall.”

A laughter erupts from the opposite side of the table. A wheezing breath and chuckle full of evilness is a rather concerning combination however that’s Matsukawa and Hanamaki so that sounds just lovely.

Pink haired snorts. “Oh, that was wild. Who would think that Iwaizumi would make his lover go to ER ‘cause of his libido.”

“A respected nursing student, honestly. Still panicked when Tooru was on the verge of dying,” Matsukawa adds, shaking his head in pretended disapproval and disappointment.

“Shouldn't you forget things like this? You had a concussion.” Iwaizumi hisses at Tooru. “And you!” Iwaizumi points out the duo but for the lack of any arguments he just slams one fist against the table, gently enough to not alarm anyone outside their table.

They sit for a while, reminiscing the last months and certain of their first moments.

“We’ve been fucking each other for too long to not be fucking together.” Iwaizumi’s powerful punch line makes them all nod in agreement.

His hand wanders from Tooru’s hand, stopping for a moment on the wrist, all the way up, until Tooru’s chin is between Iwaizumi’s thumb and index finger.

Their mouths crush against each other in the simplest kiss without tongues or teeth, just warmth of their lips It feels nothing like the passion they share while the most intimate of some moments or pecks on goodbye, but it doesn't mean that worse in any sort. The thing is that it feels so refreshing after learning that all is fine and has always fucking been like this. He's completely filled with that spills out in the form of kiss.

Tooru opens his eyes to glance at Matsukawa and Hanamaki next to them, staring unbashedly. He gives them a sign peace and then pulls off Iwaizumi, kisses the tips of his own fingers and presses them against the others lips, a sweet indirect kiss. They give him a smug smile.

Tooru unlocks Iwaizumi’s phone he took while the kiss lasted (“ Hey, that’s mine! ”) and takes photo of them all to celebrate this moment. Tooru’s peace sign while still holding coffee in the same hand; Iwaizumi trying to hide his face with arm but managing only to cover one of his eye, the exposed corners of his mouth are visibly up; Hanamaki’s attempt to dab, failed, because he has accidently hit Matsukawa while doing it and his head is raised to see the damage; Matsukawa widened eyes from the near death experience, his arms still thrown like he was a presenter that introduces Hanamaki to the crowd.

[iwaizumi]: look at fucking us ushiwaka-chan, the power foursome

picture

[iwaizumi]: u have only 2bf and i have 3 of them, jealous???¿¿¿ better be

[ushijima]: Is that you, Oikawa? Congratulations. Though I don’t recall being in competition about subject like this and I deem it pointless. I’m not jealous for your information. I hope your relationship will bring you happiness.

[ushijima]: n maybe u quit being so bitter and moping lolll u make others suffer bcs of ur unresolvd sexual tensi0n

[ushijima]: get off or have  anice nightttt

[ushijima]: That was Satori. I need to admit that his words should make you consider your options.

“Back to your honour,” Iwaizumi raises his head from behind the laptop, Matsukawa doing the same but with book and Hanamaki with phone. That looks like some kind of conspiracy, seeing his boyfriends in such a perfect synchronisation. “We need to avenge it.”

“You don’t have to to avenge anything.” Tooru approaches Matsukawa’s desk to take a can of Monster and zeroes it. He squats to reach for another can under the desk, hoping to get something tasty enough and finds coffee flavoured energy drink.

“Right. Your honour is in pieces since that time when you and Kuroo mixed sleeping pills with-”

“Nononono, you’re not saying it,” Tooru fiercely cuts in whatever Matsukawa is willing to say, “‘cause I saw these folders on your laptop.” They start an extremely serious staring contest. Matsukawa snaps his fingers making Tooru lose and bitter.

“Oh, we’re bringing blackmail material out? I have some.”

“I’ve done a research on this guy’s social media and,” Iwaizumi turns the laptop so they can take a look. “Found this post from 2013.”

They all lean over laptop screen and Hanamaki even cringes at what he sees. “Are you going to do what I think are doing.”

“That’s just fucking cruel,” Tooru muses and clicks with his tongue, pleased. “I approve this.”

Another sip of energy drink, his favourite people in the arm reach, no allergy right now and all homework done. There is nothing he can complain about, except for homicidal tendencies they all seem to have when someone is endangering one of them, but that’s not a thing he would genuinely grumble about.

He reaches for his phone which is charging and adds another heart emoji to Makki, Mattsun and Iwa.