Chapter Text
Daichi’s phone beeps in his back pocket, and he jogs to a stop as he reaches for it. Ten laps in twenty five minutes, not bad, he thinks, dismissing the timer. It’s three minutes better than his time last week, and he’s hitting his stride easier every time.
He takes a minute to catch his breath, the autumn air leaving his throat cold and raw. It’s a crisp morning, soft dawn light just starting to filter through red and gold leaves, and there’s almost no one else at the park at 6:45 on Friday morning. He’d seen a few high school students jogging and a couple of elderly women chatting easily as they walked together, and that was about it. As he pats his pockets for his earphones, though, a blur of motion much further down the path catches his eye. For a second he thinks it’s a small deer or something, but as it races towards him it resolves itself into a black and white dog, her leash trailing behind her as she makes an excited bid for freedom.
Daichi automatically looks back down the path for the owner, and sure enough, there’s a figure in the distance yelling faintly as they run to catch up. The dog is about two seconds away from running right past him, so he quickly steps into her path and whistles as loudly as he can.
He almost expects her to just dodge him and go past, but she checks instantly, skidding to a stop with a startled look. He crouches and holds out a hand, whistling softer and snapping his fingers. The dog pads closer, sniffing curiously, and he manages to grab her leash. “There we go,” he says, turning his hand over and offering her his knuckles to smell. “Let’s wait for your owner to come get you, hm?”
She’s a fairly big dog, short haired with a fringed tail and the elegant build of a Dalmatian. She lets him stroke her head without any fuss, licking his wrist briefly and letting her pink tongue loll out in a grin as he chuckles.
“You’re a cutie, aren’t you?” he tells her, standing up and gripping the leash tighter as she tugs hard, evidently expecting him to join her on her run. “Hey, hey, don’t do that -”
“Shit, I’m so sorry,” the owner pants as he finally reaches them. “She’s never gotten away from me before -”
“Don’t worry about it,” Daichi says, giving him a smile as he takes the dog’s leash back.
“Thanks so much for catching her, dude,” the guy says, pushing a fringe of messy hair back from his eyes. He’s pretty tall, a grey scarf looped haphazardly around his neck, wearing a black hoodie on over dark blue tracks. “The way she ran off, I’d only have been able to catch her when she crossed me on her second lap around the park.”
“She’s definitely fast,” Daichi laughs, bending a bit to pat her again. “And it was no problem. What’s her name?”
“Miko.” The guy gives Daichi an obvious once over, a friendly, roguish grin curving his mouth. “But y’know, I’m not surprised she let you catch her, she’s always had great taste in men.”
Daichi’s gaze flicks to his, startled, but he has to laugh again when the guy waggles his eyebrows. “Is that so?” he says. “Then what’s she doing with you?”
“Ouch,” the guy laughs. “Harsh, but fair. I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, by the way. You come here a lot? I’ve never seen you before.”
“Sawamura Daichi,” Daichi replies. “And no, I’ve only been coming here for a couple of weeks.”
“Ah, okay - Miko, don’t - !” Kuroo sighs as Miko circles his legs for the third time, effectively entangling his legs in the leash. “Dumb dog. We have to get going, Sawamura-san, but maybe I’ll see you around some time?”
“Sure,” Daichi says, watching with some amusement as Kuroo tries to kick off the leash without tripping. “I’m here most weekdays.”
“Gotcha. Have a good morning!”
“Yep, you too.”
Daichi can’t help smiling as he watches them leave, Kuroo scolding Miko in an undertone while she tries to pull him over to a tree to investigate a squirrel. He figures that if they do meet again, it’ll just be by chance, but to his surprise he finds Kuroo and Miko waiting for him by the park gate a few mornings later.
“Here,” he says, handing Daichi a paper bag with two warm glazed doughnuts while Miko wags her tail frantically. “A thank you for Miko’s handsome crush.”
“Oh yeah?” Daichi raises an eyebrow, biting back a smile as he takes it. “Well, I wouldn’t want to disappoint Miko.”
Kuroo grins at him, making no effort to hold Miko back as she plants her paws heavily on Daichi’s chest, apparently torn between trying to lick his face and trying to reach the doughnuts. Daichi manages to fend her off somehow, gaining a bare minute to tear the doughnuts into equal pieces so he can share them with her and Kuroo.
“They were supposed to be a gift for you, you know,” Kuroo says, looking reluctant as he accepts his share.
“Come on, I can’t eat them both myself right in front of you two.” He tosses a piece to Miko, who snaps it neatly out of the air. “She definitely wouldn’t let me.”
“After all the trouble I went to keep her away from them in the first place,” Kuroo says, smiling a little ruefully. “Would you mind if we joined you on your run, Sawamura-san?”
“Not at all,” Daichi says, somewhat surprised. “I usually do ten laps, is that okay?”
“Sure, that’s fine.” Kuroo snags the paper bag and tosses it in the trash. “Let’s go?”
So they start off around the park together. Kuroo ends up being held behind often when Miko stops to sniff the bushes or bark at another dog, but he always catches up to Daichi without much trouble. They can't really talk much, given their pace, but the silence is a surprisingly comfortable one.
Kuroo invites Daichi to a nearby cafe for breakfast when they’re done, and Daichi accepts - Kuroo is an intriguing guy, his lazy grin and easy kind of confidence in distinct contrast to his evident and exasperated affection for his dog, and Daichi isn’t opposed to getting to know him a little better. So they sit in warm, vanilla-scented air, Miko enjoying the pieces of bacon they toss to her under the table as they talk. Daichi learns that Kuroo grew up in Tokyo, that he writes for a science journal, that he’s lived around here for a few years now, that he adopted Miko a year ago and he’s been bringing her to the park just as long.
“And you?” Kuroo says, tickling Miko’s ears absentmindedly. “You live near the park?”
“Yeah, I work at a bakery nearby. I used to be pretty sporty in high school, but I’ve kind of let myself go the past couple years, so. Trying to get back into some kind of shape, I guess.”
“Yeah? You don’t seem particularly out of shape to me.” Kuroo leans back in his chair, smiling at Daichi over the teacup cradled in his hands. “But if it means we get to see you often, I’m not complaining.”
That’s another thing about him, this flirting he keeps up. It’s easy to dismiss as teasing probably just intended to try to fluster Daichi, and that’s how Daichi does dismiss it, but Kuroo insists on paying their bill - ‘Since the doughnuts don’t count anymore,’ - and Daichi meets him the next day, and the day after that, and the day after that, always waiting for him by the park gate. Kuroo and Miko gradually become part of his routine over the course of a week or two, and Daichi can’t quite ignore the small sparkle in Kuroo’s eyes when he looks at him, when he smiles at him, when he makes him laugh.
It’s - not unwelcome. It’s honestly a soothing balm to his ego, knowing that someone finds him attractive enough to make a deliberate effort to spend time with him, and he even catches himself daydreaming about what dating Kuroo might be like during long hours spent kneading dough in the kitchen of the bakery. He’s undeniably handsome, with a careless grace to his lanky frame and a nice voice and a silver stud gleaming in one ear, and he’s easy to get along with. Morning runs start to become the highlight of Daichi’s day rather than just something he has to get over with, their breakfasts together afterwards usually leaving him in a lighter mood for the rest of the morning. Suga and Asahi are surprised and delighted when they hear about Kuroo, and clearly think that a new relationship would be good for Daichi to explore.
But when Kuroo stops him as they leave their park cafe a month later, when he says he has something to talk about, apprehension still sprouts like a tiny weed in the pit of Daichi’s stomach.
“Sure, what is it?” he says, with a fair attempt at nonchalance.
“I’ve been wanting to ask for a while, Sawamura-san.” Kuroo’s voice is perfectly calm, but Miko’s leash is twisted restlessly between his fingers. “I really like spending time with you, so - d’you wanna go on an actual date one of these days?”
Shit, he really asked . . .
Daichi can’t help glancing at Kuroo’s left wrist, where a black wristband lies snug against his skin. Kuroo catches the look and hooks a finger under it to tug it down, revealing a strip of pale turquoise encircling his wrist. “It’s platonic,” he says. “I’m not with anyone right now.”
Daichi thinks of his own wrist, black as ink under his watch, and his mouth twists without him meaning to. Kuroo, looking between his face and his wrist, takes it the wrong way. “Did I - I didn’t mean to overstep, if you already have someone - ?”
“I don’t.” Daichi sighs, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. “I don’t, Kuroo. I really like spending time with you, too. Just - I’m not up for anything more than a casual relationship right now.”
“By casual, you mean - ?”
“I mean that we’d go on dates, we’d hang out as often as you like, but we wouldn’t necessarily be committed to each other. If either of us wakes up one day and decides we’d like to break things off, that’s fine. Are you okay with that?”
“Sure, that’s fine.” Kuroo’s mouth curves. “So that’s a yes?”
“I guess so,” Daichi smiles back. “When do you want to go?”
***
That weekend
“You can always hide in my shoulder if it gets too scary, Sawamura,” Kuroo says, smirking, as they settle into their seats.
“Yes, please protect me from the scary movie, Kuroo,” Daichi says, rolling his eyes. “Whatever would I do if you weren't here.”
“I’m just saying,” Kuroo says, casually flexing biceps that are, admittedly, quite nice.
“Shut up, dumbass,” Daichi says, trying not to smile. “Look, it’s starting.”
The movie is one Kuroo picked, a recent supernatural horror release. Daichi does flinch a couple of times at the jump scares, but it’s nothing compared to Kuroo. His fists gradually clench in his lap as the movie progresses, as doors creak and blood drips down walls, and his knuckles are white when the family’s youngest kid ventures into the basement that was carelessly left unlocked. He sinks down in his seat as her screams go on and on, low enough that his knees end up higher than his face. Daichi reaches over for his hand, a little concerned, and his fingers are immediately crushed in a death grip.
Kuroo jumps badly when the demon finally shows up, bad enough that their popcorn is knocked out of the holder and spills onto the floor. “Shit, sorry,” he whispers. “I didn’t mean to -”
“It’s fine,” Daichi whispers back. “We’re almost at the interval, don’t worry about it right now.”
When the lights come on, Kuroo sweeps as much of the popcorn into the box as he can to throw away before he goes and gets them a refill and a couple of sodas. The popcorn doesn’t fall again as the movie continues, but Kuroo’s soda does when the family’s father dies gruesomely. The can is almost empty, luckily, but Kuroo freezes for a long second while Daichi sets it upright and tosses a couple of napkins on the floor to absorb the worst of the mess.
Kuroo rests his forehead against his shoulder with a quiet groan when he sits back up. “So I’ve never looked like more of a fucking idiot in my life,” he mumbles, and Daichi laughs.
“And to think I thought you were smooth when I first met you,” he murmurs back, patting his head lightly.
“I bet you don't anymore, huh.”
“Hey, it’s fine. Let’s just get through the movie, okay? And -” He can’t help grinning. “You can always hide in my shoulder if it gets too scary.”
Kuroo groans again, but he holds Daichi’s hand tighter and does, in fact, hide in his shoulder at the next jumpscare. The movie ends without any other accidents, and they’re soon standing outside under bright streetlights, Kuroo’s cheeks stained red as he apologizes again.
“In hindsight, choosing a horror movie was maybe not the best idea,” he says. “I thought I could hold it together enough to impress you, though.”
“Aww,” Daichi grins. “You were trying to impress me?”
Kuroo buries his face in his hands, and Daichi laughs, stepping closer and pulling his wrists down.
“It’s okay, Kuroo, really. It was pretty cute, actually.”
“So I haven’t completely ruined my chances of getting another date?”
“No, you haven’t,” Daichi smiles. “Text me and we’ll figure out another day, yeah?”
“Okay,” Kuroo sighs, smiling back. “It’ll be so much better than this one, I promise.”
“Yeah, this isn’t going to be hard to top.”
“You really know how to kick a man when he’s down, don’t you?”
Daichi laughs, squeezing his hands briefly before letting go. “At least I have faith you will. I’ll see you Monday morning, okay?”
The next date does go a lot better, a picnic with Miko in the park, watching the sunrise and demolishing a mountain of crepes between them as she tries to lick sweet cream off their fingers. Their third is dinner at a tiny outdoor cafe tucked away near the pier, talking hours away with mugs of tea warming their hands as their breath clouds in the air. Their fourth is taking Miko to the beach, collecting interesting shells and yelling like kids as they try to splash each other. The fifth is a night in at Kuroo’s, watching a nature documentary and arguing about the best way to cook fish as they make dinner together. The one after that is an afternoon at Daichi’s, trying to teach Kuroo to bake cupcakes, and the one after that is a snowball fight in the park, and the one after that is giving Miko a bath together, and Daichi finds that though these dates would sound like the furthest thing from romantic to anyone else, sharing them with Kuroo somehow makes them better than any fancy night out with candles and roses and music. He sets a separate ringtone for Kuroo, a randomly chosen pop song that’s been popular recently, and it takes him a week to realize he smiles automatically when it plays from department store speakers or on the radio.
Kuroo shows up at the bakery one day in the middle of February, four months and ten dates after they first met, a massive fruit smoothie in hand and Miko by his side. Suga calls Daichi out from the kitchen as soon as he introduces himself, positively gleeful at finally getting to meet Daichi’s elusive boyfriend.
“He’s such a looker, Dai,” Suga grins as Daichi walks through the kitchen door. “You didn’t tell us that!”
“Yeah, Sawamura, why didn’t you tell your friend that?” Kuroo says, leaning on the counter with a shit eating grin on his face.
“See, this is why I didn’t want you two to meet,” Daichi sighs, and Asahi gives him a sympathetic look from over by the coffee machine. “Kuroo, Sugawara Koushi, Azumane Asahi. Suga, Asahi, this is Kuroo Tetsurou.”
“And Miko,” Kuroo says, firmly pushing Miko away from the open display of cakes with his foot. “Sorry about her, she’s a glutton. Nice to meet you two.”
“She’s adorable,” Suga coos, leaning dangerously far over the counter to try and pet her head.
“Suga, careful,” Asahi says, wiping his hands before going to his usual post at the cash register. “That should work now, by the way. What can we get for you, Kuroo-san?”
“I’ll take a croissant and a vanilla latte to go, please,” Kuroo says, setting the smoothie on the counter. “This is for your hardworking baker, for when his shift is up. You up for a drive when you’re done, Sawamura?”
“Sure, I’m off in two hours.” Daichi gives him a curious look. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise,” Kuroo grins. “Text me, I’ll come back and pick you up.”
He gives Daichi a wink, and Daichi rolls his eyes, but he can’t help smiling as he heads back to the kitchen.
“I like him,” Asahi says, following him inside. “He seems like a good guy.”
“You saw him for like five minutes, Asahi,” Daichi says, dusting flour over his workbench.
“Still.” Asahi leans against the wall, watching Daichi roll out a lump of dough. “He clearly cares about you a lot.”
“That’s the minimum requirement to be a good boyfriend?” Daichi says dryly.
There’s silence for a minute. Nishinoya yells on the other side of the kitchen as something clatters to the ground, Hinata apologizes frantically, Ennoshita calls back over his shoulder to ask what went wrong, and Asahi purses his lips as Daichi finishes up one sheet and starts on another.
“You deserve to be happy, Dai, after everything,” is all he finally says. “I feel like Kuroo can make that happen - at least, it looked to me like he wants to try. Don’t stop him, okay?”
“Jumping the gun, Asahi.” Daichi looks up to offer him a smile. “But thanks.”
***
Tetsurou picks Sawamura up five minute after he texts, and they drive down the south highway in Tetsurou’s old sedan, windows down and Miko panting happily in the backseat. The road goes along the coast, giving them a lovely view of the sunset as they head further and further away from the city. Orange and gold light paints Sawamura’s skin as he hums along softly to the radio, the smell of fresh salt heady in Tetsurou’s lungs.
They drive in content silence for nearly an hour before turning off the road, following a track to a small cliff overlooking the ocean. The sun’s almost gone now, flooding the surface of the sea with red as the first stars come out, twinkling bright.
“This is it,” Tetsurou says, switching the car off. “Surprise picnic, I guess?”
“It’s beautiful,” Sawamura says, smiling at him in a way that makes his stomach flip. “Thanks for this, Kuroo.”
God, I’m falling way too fast, Tetsurou thinks, smiling back at him before getting out of the car and letting Miko out of the backseat. They spread a sheet out on the grass in front of the car and settle down under a thick blanket, side by side, as the sky turns to dark purple.
“How’d you find this place?” Sawamura asks, watching a seagull wheel high above them.
“My friends and I used to come here in high school to hang out.” Tetsurou settles a hand on Miko’s head as she curls up contentedly between him and Sawamura. “It’s kind of nostalgic, being back here.”
“And what kind of things did teenage Kuroo come here to do?”
The question is teasing, pulling a laugh out of Tetsurou’s chest. “Things I shouldn’t have,” he says. “I tried both weed and whiskey for the first time here - I think I threw up somewhere over there, behind those rocks, because we bought the cheapest alcohol we could find.”
Sawamura chuckles, and Tetsurou smiles. “I kissed someone for the first time here, too,” he says. “I was so bad at it.”
“Yeah?” Sawamura turns his head, his eyes dark and warm. “Are you any better now?”
Tetsurou grins, propping himself up on one elbow to look down at him. “Find out for yourself, Sawamura.”
Sawamura chuckles again, and his fingers come to rest on Tetsurou’s cheek. “Come here, then,” he says.
Tetsurou leans down with his heart pounding quietly against his ribs, watching Sawamura’s eyes close, watching his mouth tilt up -
Sawamura’s phone beeps cheerfully, and Tetsurou pauses as he groans. “Sorry,” he says, pulling it out of his pocket. “I’ll put it on silent, just let me -”
He goes still, his gaze fixed on the screen as his mouth goes tight. “Fuck,” he says, very quietly.
“Everything okay?” Tetsurou frowns a little as he scans his face. “Sawamura?”
“Nothing.” He tosses the phone aside. “It’s nothing.”
“It’s something, to make you look like this.” Tetsurou brushes his fingertips over Sawamura’s cheek, and he sighs.
“It’s - I don’t want to ruin tonight, Kuroo.”
“I don’t want you to be worrying the whole night, either.” Tetsurou lets his fingers drift upwards, running them lightly through Sawamura’s hair. “What’s wrong?”
Sawamura bites his lip, meeting Tetsurou’s gaze for a long moment, before he reaches for the phone again and unlocks it.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, anyway,” he says, handing it to Tetsurou. “Just - the timing couldn’t have been worse.”
It’s a photo of Sawamura with another man on the screen, both of them smiling widely at the camera. The other man is handsome in a classic kind of way, fairly tall, neat in a business suit, his dark hair brushed back and his arm around Sawamura’s waist. Sawamura is wearing a worn T-shirt and track pants, and he’s almost glowing with happiness. They’re at an aquarium, faint patches of blue light on their clothes and faces.
It’s a Google Photos compilation, Tetsurou realizes. The date is two years ago, and the pictures are all from the same day. The first few are Sawamura and this guy at different places in the aquarium, laughing or holding hands, and then they’re at Sawamura’s house, lying in his bed together.
“Who is he?” Tetsurou asks quietly, watching the last photo - the two of them kissing, Sawamura cupping the guy’s cheek - fade away.
“My soulmate.”
Tetsurou’s eyes snap to him. He’s staring back at the dark sky, his expression unreadable as he slips his watch off so Tetsurou can see the soul band.
It’s black.
“Wait - if he’s your soulmate, why is it - ?”
Sawamura lets his hand drop. “Because he left me, Kuroo.”
It takes Tetsurou a second to process that. “Oh,” he says blankly. “Oh, shit, I’m so sorry.”
Sawamura throws an arm over his eyes, shrugging. “Can’t blame him for it, I guess. We broke up three months after those pictures were taken.”
Tetsurou reaches out for Sawamura’s hand, slipping his fingers in between his. “Do you want to talk about it?”
Sawamura exhales, long and slow. “Yeah. Yeah, there’s - not much to tell. We were together for almost four years, we met when I was twenty one and he was twenty. And it was good, it was perfect. I finally understood what all the hype around finding your soulmate was, you know? I thought - we both thought it would be forever, like the young idiots we were. But he fell in love with someone else.”
“I’m sorry,” Tetsurou murmurs, because he doesn’t know what else to say.
“Mm. I guess it was bound to happen. He was more ambitious, he joined a finance company and did incredibly well almost immediately. Me, I was content setting up the bakery with Asahi and Suga, and that always kind of frustrated him. There were other things, too, things I never saw until after he’d left. I thought it was just some kind of rocky patch at the time, but - yeah.” He chuckles, a quiet sound that’s jagged at the edges. “I - wasn’t enough, I guess.”
Tetsurou squeezes his hand, his chest aching for him. “Did he say that?”
“No, he - he told me it wasn’t my fault, that it was all on him, it wasn’t anything I did, he must have said it a thousand times. But it’s hard not to think like that, you know? To not feel like if I’d been better, if I’d been what he wanted, he wouldn’t have fallen in love with someone else - someone who was everything I wasn't. I saw the two of them in the street once, his new partner is a model. They looked really good together . . .” He trails off with a long, quiet sigh. “God, saying that out loud still hurts.”
“Do you still love him?”
“No.” Sawamura is the one who squeezes his hand, this time. “I might always care about him, on some level, but I don’t love him. Just - it was losing what we had that was - so painful. It was seeing my band go black, and thinking of everything I’d done wrong. If I’d been more patient, if I’d tried harder, if I’d listened to him more, if I - maybe if I looked different, if I looked better, if I wasn’t older than him -”
“Sawamura, you know that’s not -”
“Sorry. I know, Suga and Asahi have said it enough times. It’s - no, I don’t love him. It’s the scars that it left. I should be over it by now, I guess, but -”
“I don’t think so. It’s a hard thing to go through - especially since he was your soulmate, since it was the bond people say will always last forever. You’re allowed to take your time to deal with it.”
Sawamura moves his arm away to look at him, and Tetsurou can see tears starting to glimmer in his eyes. “I want to be, though,” he whispers. “I don’t want to see him in every man in a suit, I don’t want to remember him when I cook breakfast alone, I don’t want to remember how it felt to kiss him because a stranger who wears the same perfume passed me on the road. It’s been nearly two years now, how much longer do I have to - fuck. I’m sorry.”
Tetsurou shifts to lean over him as he turns his face away. “Hey,” he murmurs, bending so their foreheads rest together. “Can I call you Daichi?”
“What?” He smiles a little as he looks back at Tetsurou, a faint, uncertain thing. “Sure, I guess.”
Tetsurou lowers his head to kiss him, soft and careful, and Daichi’s mouth opens for him like a slowly blooming flower. He pulls back after a minute or so, cupping his cheek and brushing a tear away.
“I’m so sorry he did that to you,” he says quietly. “You didn’t deserve that, Daichi. I know we haven’t known each other all that long, but - I want to be there for you, if you’ll let me. I want to prove to you that you’re a great person, that you were more than worthy of his love. That he was a fucking idiot for letting you go.”
Daichi lets out a choked laugh, putting his own hand over Tetsurou’s. “Thanks, Kuroo. I don’t know how you’ll do that, but no one will be happier than me if you do.”
“Tetsurou is fine, if you want,” Tetsurou says, kissing his forehead. “And I’ll figure it out, don’t worry.”
“Thanks for listening, too. I didn’t mean to bring it up today, I didn’t want to ruin -”
“Don’t worry about that, idiot. Hey, come here.” Tetsurou lies back down and pulls Daichi into his chest, wrapping an arm around him as he rests his head on Tetsurou’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about it. I’m glad you told me.”
Daichi hums quietly, settling a hand on the curve of Tetsurou’s ribs, his thumb stroking back and forth.They’re quiet for a few minutes, the ocean breeze ruffling their clothes gently. Miko lifts her head to yawn, her teeth gleaming briefly in the faint moonlight.
“Daichi?”
“Hm?”
“Was this why you said it had to stay casual if we started dating?”
“Yeah. I don't feel ready for a serious relationship, after everything that happened. Is that - okay?”
“Of course that’s okay.” Tetsurou hugs him a little tighter, kissing his hair. “I’ll be right here for you either way.”
***
Later that night
Daichi sinks down onto his bed with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. When he pulls his phone out to charge it, the screen is lit up with texts from his group chat with Suga and Asahi.
Suga (10:20 PM)
How romantic was it on a scale of 1 to 10
It was a 10 right
Did it go awesome
Did you guys smooch
Did you get handsy
Asahi (10:24 PM)
Suga, come on
Suga (10:26 PM)
What it's a legitimate question!!
Daichi sighs again, typing out a reply.
Daichi (11:07 PM)
It was like a 9
Then I told him about Haru . . .
Asahi (11:07 PM)
Oh shit
Are you okay? How did it go?
Daichi (11:08 PM)
He was great about it
It went okay
I’m fine
Suga (11:09 PM)
Ah fuck
Glad to hear he was chill or I would’ve beaten his face in
Call us if you need Dai
Daichi (11:10 PM)
Lol
Thanks :) I’m gonna head to bed now, we can talk tomorrow
Asahi (11;11 PM)
Okayy, sleep well
Suga (11:11 PM)
Night! <3
He plugs his phone in and gets ready for bed. When he’s curled up in the dark, though, all he can think about is I want to prove that you were more than worthy of his love.
Tetsurou means well, he knows, and he’s grateful for the sentiment, but god knows he’s been trying to convince himself of the same thing for long enough. It’s still all too easy to remember the day he saw Haru with his new boyfriend; he’d been heading home after a tiring shift, hoping to get home before it started raining, when his soul band had tingled. He’d ripped his watch off, hope and anxiety warring in the pit of his stomach, and the band had been glowing bright blue. He’d looked around for Haru frantically, not knowing if he wanted to talk to him or run as far in the opposite direction as he could, and had finally spotted him walking up the street on the other side - with a slender young man on his arm, his dark head bent to catch his words, laughing at whatever he’d said.
It had ripped through him all over again, the searing pain of his world being shaken to its foundations in a single, split second - the guilt in Haru’s eyes the day he’d left, how quietly he’d said, “I’ve found someone else,” how Daichi’s hands had been shaking in his lap as Haru had sworn he hadn’t cheated, sworn it hadn’t been Daichi’s fault, that he’d just fallen in love with someone else. “Go, then,” Daichi had whispered, still not really believing what was happening, and Haru had left a month’s rent on the table and walked out with a bag in each hand, and Daichi had slammed the door behind him and cried until his chest had gone raw and empty and the band on his wrist had gone black.
And then maybe a month later he’d seen Haru with his new boyfriend, a slim young man with perfect features and a charming smile, wearing a cream sweater that matched his complexion perfectly and with hair dyed cherry blossom pink, looking up into Haru’s smiling eyes -
- he used to smile at me like that, he used to only smile for me like that -
- and Daichi had turned away blindly to be met with his own reflection in a store window. Twenty five with grey already creeping into hair he’d always kept cropped short, his cheeks filled out a little because setting up the bakery had taken up so much time and energy he hadn’t been able to keep up with his regular runs, plain and short and unremarkable, his fists clenched tight in the pockets of the ratty hoodie Haru had always told him to get rid of because Red isn’t really your colour, Daichi.
He’d gone right back to the bakery, yanked Asahi out from behind the register, and collapsed into his chest in tears. Suga, bless him, had closed early so the both of them could sit with him and hold him as he cried. He’d played the memory of it in his head so many times afterwards, over and over again through the months that followed, until finally the sting went out of it. The way Haru had smiled at someone else in the street, though, like he didn’t even know how thoroughly he’d crushed Daichi’s heart, that’s something he’ll never be able to forget.
And now here’s Tetsurou, offering to stand by him like Suga and Asahi have done for so long, promising to prove that he deserves more than Haru had given him - and Haru had given him more than almost four years of light and affection, before it had all gone bad.
He can’t, Daichi already knows - but for the first time in a long time, he’s starting to remember what it’s like to love and to be loved. So if he wants to try, Daichi’s going to be the last one to stand in his way.
And if that makes me a selfish bastard, well, Daichi thinks, hugging his pillow tighter, I guess that’s what I am.