Work Text:
Asahi had given Nishinoya a copy of the keys to his study some time ago "in case there was an emergency", and oh boy was there one. That Friday afternoon Azumane Asahi was about to discover to which extent. Nishinoya hadn't tried to stop himself, for starters, because he had as a rule never to stop, ever. And of course not when the matter was as serious as then.
He hadn't moved to Tokyo keeping the suspicion that his boyfriend, Asahi, was capable of lying to him in some hidden pocket of his mountain backpack. Because the transfer hadn't been easy, but separation had been less so. Since the eldest had moved to the capital to study fashion design, shocking his friends with a long hidden interest and determination that none of them, not even Noya, had suspected of him, their relationship had become a tad more difficult.
It hadn't started easy: Noya liked to tell himself, giggling secretly, that he'd had to force expressions of love off of Asahi the hard way, because the former spiker had convinced himself since falling in love that there was something wrong, mistaken in the falling. Of course, Azumane was a master in finding faults in everything coming from himself, and what he felt for his volleyball team's former libero hadn't escaped that scrutiny. "Noya, I'm too old for you", although he was scarcely one year older. "Noya, you'll grow tired of me quickly", although the two years they studied together in high school were one of the happiest times in his life, and it was hard to imagine it without him. "Noya, you want to stay in Sendai", although Noya didn't know where he wanted to go nor what he wanted to do.
It wasn't that Noya'd ended up convincing him that they loved each other: he trusted in his own feelings, and in Asahi’s, too. He rather made him see that, if they wanted to, they could make it work. "Do you want to?" the youngest had asked, in a tone that Asahi would later assure him was a shout. "More than anything", he'd answer ("if I shouted, then you shouted too"). And the surprised silence that came after was the last one he remembered between the two.
The following year had been the hardest. Asahi had moved to Tokyo just after graduating Karasuno, and had sacrificed the first couple of months of college in favour of a chest operation that he'd dreamt of since he was fourteen. The long and tedious recovery had been a period of great anxiety for Nishinoya, who on top of it finished high school proving that the claim, with which he had defended himself before his parents and tutors, that he would've had figured what he wanted to do with his life by then, was a lie. He had no clue if he wanted to pursue volleyball, if higher education was for him, if he should look for a job or of what kind.
For some time the blinding light that had illuminated all who came in contact with his simple determination dimmed, and Asahi had suffered for him, without knowing what to tell him on the other side of the phone. Noya’s relationship with his parents began to deteriorate because of the uncertainty. The distance between the two took a toll on both of them, as did all the time and energy that college took from the eldest, who tried to adapt at lightning speed. Still, Asahi would always fight any who dared question the invitation he handed Nishinoya to move in with him for a period of time, to job hunt in Tokyo, which came directly from his heart: not pressure, not yearning, and definitely not pity. He knew from the moment he heard Yuu excitedly shout at the other side of the line, and start to caper around his room.
Neither Noya's parents nor Asahi's roommates opposed, and shortly after the youngest bought his train ticket, drawing on his savings. Asahi had picked him up at the station, with his stunning mien and his adorable, timid smile, and Noya had marveled at how good he looked with glasses and at how long his hair had grown. He'd thrown his backpack to the floor to full sprint and jump as high as he could on top of him to kiss him. Although people looked at them as if they were street performers, Azumane kissed him back, and when he let him on the floor again, far more carefully than how the other had jumped, he whispered "welcome home". And Noya had felt home since then.
That was at the start of July. By then Asahi had already been cramped with work, but the month was ending and the end of the school year was looming in closer. He had warned Yuu again and again that he wouldn't have much time for him, because he had so many assignments, but the other had assured him there was no problem: he would also be busy job hunting, maybe interviewing with a volleyball club, who knew? Asahi had tried to conceal the nervousness in his smile and Noya had playfully mocked him.
It was something they had agreed on a long time ago in a video call, because Asahi didn't want his boyfriend to move to Tokyo under a false idea of what it'd be like to be there, both emotionally and materially. He'd warned him of how small his room was, although the youngest could catch on that even through the laptop's cam. Still, Noya laughed until his belly hurt at the anti-luxury of his closet-sized bedroom.
It had a middle sized wooden wardrobe, that could fit his clothes and the futon on which he slept. To lay it out he had to set aside the traditional style table he used as desktop and dining table, and leave it against the door, which became barred (one of his roommates, Ken, had once pointed out to him that if a fire started while he slept, he'd become trapped because of the desk, and Asahi had spent a whole month barely sleeping, looking at the ceiling with wide eyes and fearing burning alive because of logistics). Before Noya's reaction he'd blushed and said that Ken's room was just as small, but he wasn't able to placate his boyfriend's taunting.
Still, Nishinoya assured him that he was blissful to be able to sleep beside him, be with him, have breakfast with him, embrace him, touch him, and Asahi's blush had deepened. In truth, Yuu had unpacked his things determined to make up for lost time spent away from Asahi, no matter how small the bedroom, how close it was to his other roommates’, and how thin the futon. He was dying to kiss him, to huddle between his arms and legs, to lose himself in his tight embrace, sometimes a little too tight, that drove him crazy; he wanted to get high on his hair conditioner's aroma, watch him cover his mouth and close his eyes in that adorable manner he had, and for him to scrape his whole body with the harsh and pleasant feeling of his beard. But he hadn't counted on the summer heat that forced them to sleep on their underwear and as far away from the other as possible, and that found them waking up with damp hair although most of the time they hadn't done anything sexy. They hadn't much more options, because the time Noya had tried to shower with him Asahi nearly had a heart attack, loudly stammering that it was a common zone, Noya, although the flat was empty. In the end, he had to resign, and wait for the planets to align every once in a while to lose himself to the hurricane of their passions when they met.
With all, living with Asahi was as sweet as he had imagined. Yuu marveled at how much he had changed, at how confident he was in his skin, in what he did, older and more handsome, although he had thought that impossible. He watched him unravel naturally in situations that would've made him sweat when they were in high school, and Asahi talked about his projects, both academic and on design, with a confidence in them that Nishinoya found fascinating, and that made him want to kiss him on the mouth and shout at the top of his lungs that he loved him through his narrow little window.
Of course, he didn't plan on falling behind. Asahi had feared the thing stopping Noya from finding a job was something similar to what had stopped him on his tracks so many times, when faced with opportunities, of opening up to his family and friends, of accepting his own self-worth. He had heard the youngest sound so sad sometimes, over the phone, that he'd been afraid. But he'd been pleasantly surprised at how much Nishinoya compromised to his task.
On one hand the youngest outright rejected any facility others offered him in finding a job: Tanaka had proposed he started working at the same gym he was a trainer in shortly after graduating, but his friend had refused. The topic of how much help his prideful determination to open up a path of his own with nobody's help was very delicate, but Asahi hadn't brought it up because he didn't consider himself in a position to do so. On the other hand, Noya had been open to taking advice and making sacrifices since the start. He even agreed to let his natural hair colour grow fully, although he was sad to see his bleached streak go. His nonsensical initial idea was to cut it off with some kitchen scissors, but luckily Asahi stopped him in time and convinced him to dye it, instead of going hog and having a ridiculous look to him for a few months.
With all, in the few weeks he'd spent in Tokyo he had already worked as support in an ikayaki stand during the Summer Festival at the Yasukuni temple, which augmented his motivation exponentially, as well as Asahi's ease, who discarded any doubt that they'd be alright (a task which would've been impossible to him just one year ago). Although that Friday, Nishinoya was willing to disrupt that ease.
When he found out about the betrayal Azumane had plotted behind his back, Nishinoya was walking out after an interview with a volleyball club that had been interested in his history. If he hadn't wanted to call Tanaka to excitedly tell him about it, he wouldn't have learnt of what went on in the shadows, maybe never.
In the street, guarding himself from the insufferable noon heat under a building's shade, he called Ryuu's cellphone to give him the good news, and fill him in on his hopes of entering the club as libero. But who picked up was his fiancée, Shimizu Kiyoko, whom Noya adored, and whom he'd started calling by her first name recently, with her sweet and elegant approval. Apparently Tanaka had forgotten his phone at home when he'd left for work, and it wasn't the first time either. They both laughed, and chatted for a bit.
They talked about Ryuu, one's fiancé and the other's best friend, and commented on how nervous he got every time they had to make a decision regarding their wedding. Noya lit up with excitement, although it didn't have much to do with him, and Kiyoko laughed warmly. They also talked about Hinata Shoyou, another of the former libero's closest friends, because he'd bought his plane ticket for abroad recently and was bidding farewell to all his friends, one after the other, first to those in Sendai and later to those in Tokyo. Kiyoko mentioned that Hinata wouldn't take long in going to the capital, and that he could also see Kageyama, to which Noya commented enthusiastically that maybe the four of them could go on a double date, if Asahi agreed on it, to which Shimizu had to laugh again.
If she hadn't asked him if he'd seen Kageyama recently, and that question hadn't struck Noya strange (he was fond of the former setter, but they weren't close at all), Asahi would have won and taken his secret with him to the grave.
"It's been months since I last saw Kageyama. What do you mean?", he asked directly, as he did everything.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Since he modeled for Azumane recently, I thought maybe you two had seen each other" Kiyoko answered delicately.
"He did WHAT !?"
Nishinoya didn't think twice about what he had to do then. In his backpack were the keys to the studio Asahi rented as work space, with money saved by living in such a precarious apartment, and with his interview clothes on he headed there like a whirlwind.
Because this was an emergency, if not a crisis. Noya was going to burst into Asahi's studio (where he produced and kept his prototypes and did digital work on his table top computer, that wouldn't fit anywhere in his bomb shelter of an apartment) and, without caring about the potential presence of his other three classmates that rented the space alongside him, he was going to demand an explanation.
How very dare he? Who did he think he was? What was he thinking when he contacted Kageyama Tobio, one of the most boring dudes he knew and by no means one of the more handsome ones (good grief, Shoyou, your taste in men), to make him model? And what the hell did he intend by keeping it a secret from Noya? His common sense tried to tell him that Asahi must have his reasons, that it wasn't such a big deal, but Nishinoya Yuu had never listened to common sense, and he wasn't going to start doing it now.
Because he was already spinning his keys inside the keyhole after skipping his way upstairs, and he hastily opened it, uttering a thunderous "ASAHI" that made the called one flinch and turn around, almost falling off his office chair in the process. Noya stood in the threshold, his legs apart and his free hand in a fist, the rest of him in a fury. Rina, one of Azumane's mates, walked in front of him with a coffee in her hand, and greeted him with a mock directed toward his rage's object, before disappearing into the hallway.
"Hello, Yuu-kun. Looking good"
"Hello, Rina-san! Thank you!". He sounded as angry as when he'd shouted.
The one being shouted at had raised to his feet, standing small despite how big he was. He had a little apologetic smile on his mouth, albeit not knowing what he'd done, and he was already sweating.
"Hi, Noya. It's good to see you", Asahi greeted him, standing with his back to his desktop, clearing his throat in an attempt to collect himself. "Did something happen? Why are you he—"
"Kageyama!? Seriously!?"
Nishionoya closed the door behind him with the same force he opened it with, and Asahi flinched on his spot again. His brown eyes were open wide and he clearly ignored what the other was talking about. That didn't make him worry less when Noya walked toward him in strides and started bouncing up and down in front of him.
"How come you didn't tell me you already shot your prototypes!? And that the mystery dude called 'well, I dunno who I'll photograph, maybe someone from the agency' was KAGEYAMA!?"
Asahi was flabbergasted by the accusation as well as by how bad the impersonation his boyfriend did of him was. He put his hands on the desk, because Noya was inching closer, and he couldn't stop blinking both because of how confused he was and because of how close to his face the youngest shouted, despite the height difference between the two.
"In truth it's just that—" he tried to defend himself meekly.
"The guy's not even that handsome!" Noya interrupted him. "I'm far more handsome than him, and more stylish! And charming! And charismatic"
"But Noya, I needed someone—"
"Plus, I'm YOUR BOYFRIEND !" Noya finally exploded. Oh, so that was the deal. Asahi couldn't help a less nervous smile, and his whole stance relaxed, which only seemed to make Nishinoya angrier. "How come you didn't think of YOUR BOYFRIEND to take some important photos!?"
"I'll explain, don't be angry" Azumane told him.
Although the wrinkle between Noya's eyebrows and the pout in his lip made that petition seem useless, his arms folded at his chest indicated a certain willingness, which Asahi took as a chance to grab him gently by his shoulders and push him away a little, to which he didn't resist.
"You see, they asked us to craft the pieces in runway measurements, since most probably they'll be worn at the end of the year's fashion show" he explained. Noya found out he had set aside his own angriness to listen to Asahi filled with curiosity, and a love that swelled in his chest when he noticed the coolness with which Asahi explained, in which he had worked so hard for such a big reward. Still, Nishinoya recovered his sulk as quickly as he'd lost it to talk back.
"Good luck making Kageyama prance!" he exclaimed reproachingly, shaking his arms.
"He won't model in the show, I only picked him for the photos because he owed me a solid and his measurements were almost..." he gave up on his explanation, and smiled again as he scratched the back of his neck, sure of what Noya's reaction would be.
"So I'm not only too ugly to be a model, I'm also too short!" he was jumping up and down again, and Asahi tried to make him stop, mumbling something about bothering the downstairs neighbours.
"Noya, you're beautiful, but there are set measurements that you don't—"
"What? I fall too short?"
"Literally" Asahi had to laugh at the convenience of the idiom, which Nishinoya didn't ignore, and which made his cheeks burn with a rarely seen flush.
"Not funny! You're gonna lose boyfriend reward points on your card for this, just so you know!"
Asahi let his shoulders fall, secretly admiring the metaphor's creativity, and sure that if Noya didn't take it back, he'd spend the night awake thinking of how many points were left on his card, if he'd lost any in some other occasion and why. Maybe because he was pondering this, Yuu caught him with his guard down and flanked him to look at the monitor at his back, where the prototype's pictures, which he was editing, were still open.
"Let's see Mr Japan's shoot, shall we?"
"I-it's just the piece..."
Asahi took longer than he should in understanding Noya's abrupt silence. He turned around to face the screen as well, the nervousness previously located in his hands suddenly in his stomach, and fast gone once he turned to look at the young man instead of the pictures.
Noya was left with eyes wider than usual, and his almost oval-shaped pupils jumped from one point of the image to another. It was merely a studio shot, from the front and from the back, of a Japanese-stlye jacket, halfway between a haori and a yukata , whose pattern Asahi had crafted himself, as he had the piece, with ecologic materials that he'd had shipped to him a while ago. They were a vibrant orange (none of them ignored the fact that it was quite similar to the volley uniform they'd worn years ago), and knowing Azumane's style as well has his boyfriend did, it wasn't hard to imagine the nude toned, light clothing Kageyama (or whoever ) would wear underneath it.
The piece had a quite occidentalized cut, despite hanging all the way to the mannequin's half thigh, and it was similar to those one could find in clothing stores abroad (or so the classmates that'd travelled overseas to Europe and America assured them), with slightly tighter sleeves, longer than those of the haori . Nevertheless and in contrast, in the back were embroidered, with black thread fabricated in Sendai that Asahi’d brought from his last visit home, the words "planet mantra", in kanji and katakana respectively. They spread all across the back, and the uneven thickness of the characters was reminiscent of the traditional calligraphy that fascinated the younger.
The piece was captivating to look at, even in that static shot one could close their eyes and imagine its flow, they way it'd move in the air, with the fabric belt loosely tied at the model's stomach. Asahi waited for Noya's reaction quite anxiously, and for the confirmation that he'd realised the piece's perk that only the two of them could notice.
"It's... cool", Nishinoya suddenly uttered. After deliberating for the seconds it took Asahi took to walk behind his back, he ventured to speak, with a caution uncharacteristic of him, the impression whose legitimacy he wasn't sure of. "It reminds me of..."
"Of you?", Asahi smiled at his shoulder. His deep and rumbling voice sounded so gentle that it could have lit up the world all on its own. "It's because I inspired it on you. On your style, on your energy, and a little on the clothes you like to wear"
Noya's hazel eyes lit up, and he turned to look at Asahi over his own shoulder.
"I'm your inspiration?" he asked, his excitement uncontainable.
"Of course you are" the other laughed gently, welcoming the youngest as he turned to face him fully. "Who else would it be? Kageyama?"
They both laughed, and Noya's laughter only accentuated the blush on his cheeks, nose and ears, which he buried in Asahi's ridiculously comfortable chest for a moment. He closed his eyes, and felt it expand and contract alongside his breath, as well as his still slightly racy heartbeat. The eldest took the liberty of running his hand gently through his hair, more tamed than usual, but just as fine and soft, nice to the touch. With the other he caressed Nishinoya’s shoulder, then took his hand down over his biceps, a little too tight inside his button down, until finding his bare wrist and lifting it, making Noya pull away to look at him with those eyes that were simultaneously the reflection and the source of the affection radiating from his own.
Azumane payed attention to Noya’s button down, one he'd gifted him a while ago (and that maybe was a tad too small on him now), and admired the detail on its cuff, the little, bright red button on its outer edge. He brought Noya's hand close to his face, and kissed the bare skin of his wrist, the bluish veins of its back, and the former libero had to sigh to fan out a bit of the heat running through him for all kinds of reasons, and that would still run for a while now.
"I'm sorry I burst in here like that. And for making a scene" he apologised, and Asahi joyfully laughed at the priorities the apology reflected.
"Don't worry" he said sincerely. He let go of Noya's hand and linked both of his own at the younger’s lower back. "Had I known you were coming I'd have bought lunch for us both..."
"Good grief, Asahi-san!" Yuu softly slapped him with both hands on his chest, and took the chance to leave them there. Sometimes he still called him the way he did back in high school on accident. "I come into your space and unrightfully scold you, and you're worried about not being a good host?!"
"Alright, alright" he defended himself with a soft laughter. "Well, apology accepted"
"That's better" the other smiled, about to let it go.
He only did once he raised to his tiptoes to kiss Asahi on the lips, and the eldest had cupped his face with his hands, in which marks of both volleyball and of needles and pins used with a clumsiness long gone had already disappeared, to kiss him back. Nishinoya thought, from the cloud that show of spotless affection had sent him to, that he'd entered the studio in a fury, and instead left it happier and deeper in love than before, although he convinced himself each time he'd find himself in that depth that he couldn't love Azumane any more deeply.
"Let's have lunch together" Asahi whispered. Noya liked that, despite the gentleness with which he said it, it sounded more like an order than a proposal. After all, it was undeniable.
"Alright!" the other answered, smiling wide before giving him another peck on the lips, shorter and more playful.
Afterwards he stepped aside so that Asahi could save his project's file and turn off the computer. He peeped at the hall to tell Rina they were heading off, and she bid a polite farewell without leaving the sewing room she occupied. Azumane picked up his bag at the door and hung it from his shoulder as he looked at Noya, who waited for him happily. Sometimes he reminded Asahi of an excitable puppy so much that it worried him.
"Do you want to go to that ramen place nearby?" he suggested lightheartedly.
"Sure!" exclaimed the other, making another one of his absurdly high jumps, and earning himself another "Noya, the neighbours" whose hurry couldn't erase Asahi’s own smile.
"My treat, okay?" said the eldest.
"Great!!" the other shouted, running in front of him to go out into the elevator-less stairs that opened up to his studio. "You're the best, Asahi! This restores all your boyfriend reward points!"
"Oh thank goodness"
Noya laughed at Asahi for sighing his ease in such a legit manner.