Work Text:
“So, when are guys doing it?”
“What?”
Kuroo touched his ring finger, grinning. “Marriage.”
Kei ignored it. He stuffed his mouth with rice and shook his head. The morning was cold, it was raining outside, and if he had an umbrella, Kei would leave without a second thought.
In the meantime, he was stuck inside this deserted diner. With Kuroo.
“Why should we be getting married? We’re too young.”
“Young?” Kuroo's grin didn't falter. Neither did Tsukishima's displeasure. "Didn't shrimpy and his boyfriend get engaged last week?"
Hinata and Kageyama had indeed gotten engaged a week ago.
After a Black Jackals vs Adlers game, Hinata ran across the court and knelt before Kageyama. Tadashi cried. Kei hoped Tadashi wouldn't want him to do something similar. The idea of proposing after a game and in front of a crowd made him cringe. But it seemed to work for the idiot pair, because as soon as Kageyama nodded, the bleachers erupted in cheers. The scene looked as if it had been ripped right off a romcom. Anyway, later on they'd found out the pair had found a way to make a competition out of it: whoever won the match that day got to propose.
Kei sipped his coffee now, avoiding Kuroo’s gaze. "Whatever, we shouldn't take the spotlight away from them, should we?"
[...]
You only notice how much things you actually own until you move out. Kei thought so as he loaded the umpteenth box into the back of his car. He'd have to make more than one trip if he wanted to fit inside.
His and Tadashi's apartment wasn't even that big. It didn't need to be. Not when neither of them spent much time at home, always stuck at night shifts and early morning training. With Tadashi gone, one would expect the place to be completely empty.
Never would have Kei expected it would take about three boxes to completely empty the kitchen drawers. And another four to pack everything in their—now only his—room.
Why and when had he bought an electric can opener? Kei doesn't even eat canned food.
He pushed the trunk closed and headed back upstairs to lock the door. As he stood in front of the now empty space, Kei thought he ought to be overtaken by an overwhelming sense of sorrow. Nostalgia, at least. But all he could do was feel relieved.
Relieved that he didn't have to feel guilty about himself everytime Tadashi slipped into their bed long past midnight.
Relived that he didn't sleep in the same bed as Tadashi anymore.
That they weren't together anymore.
[...]
Kei stared at the painting beneath him. Looking at it from above, he could barely make out the tiniest of cracks covering its surface, but when he leaned closer they became quite obvious. If someone glanced at it from two feet away, the hundred year old canvas appeared brand new. He could probably leave the piece be and no one would notice.
Not like that was option.
He rolled the sleeves of his white dress shirt up to his elbows and picked up a brush from the table to his right.
Even if people said his job was boring and uneventful, Kei preferred it over giving tours and helping mount exhibitions. Conservation was a quiet job he had full control over. Something that called for complete attention and utmost care.
Which happened to be what he excelled at.
Kei brushed the cracked paint away, slowly and surely, as he hummed stray tunes to himself. Later he would put the brush aside and reapply the paint, holding a round brush with one hand and keeping his wrist steady with the other. And by the time he got home his arm would feel sore from having been kept suspended for so long. But as of now, he swiped the sweat from his forehead and worked his thoughts away.
Idle thoughts like what he’d have for dinner. Or whether Tadashi would work overtime tonight again.
Thoughts about him and Tadashi. About how they hadn’t eaten a single meal together in a long time.
About how their relationship was quite like an antique painting.
Perfect from afar; cracked from up close.
[...]
Tadashi wouldn’t touch him. He hadn’t in a while. No quick kisses, no tight hugs, not a light touch on his Kei's back while he made breakfast. Kei learned to stop thinking about it. To stop wishing for it.
They would talk sometimes, late at night, whenever Kei made an effort to stay awake and wait for Tadashi to get home. And they would sit on opposite ends of the couch, and sometimes they wouldn’t really talk. Just enjoyed the quiet of the night and the darkness that drowned their apartment when the curtains were down.
Kei would think about reaching across the infinite space between them and taking Tadashi’s hand. Intertwining their fingers. Doing something, anything , to take them both back.
Back to their high school days, when they were still in love. When they were young and foolish, yet as happy as they could be.
But he never did.
And neither did Tadashi.
Maybe because they both knew it wouldn’t work. Or maybe because they both knew that even if it had worked, neither of them would want it.
[...]
They attended Hinata and Kageyama’s wedding as a couple. Even after they had both agreed on ending their relationship.
“It’s one of the happiest days of their lives,” Tadashi smiled. A sad glint present in his eyes as he pulled on his black tie. “We shouldn’t tell them until after it’s over.”
Tadashi didn’t have to say everyone would be confused about the news. It was obvious what people would think.
How come they broke up? Haven’t they been together since high school? I thought they were the perfect couple!
Kei didn’t mind faking it. Standing next to Tadashi, holding his hand. Looking at him and knowing his feelings for him were different than what he felt for the rest of his friends.
It was all normal.
It was all routine.
He could still do it. Even if he now understood his feelings in ways he hadn’t before.
[...]
“You can’t expect me to babysit for you every time you have a business trip.”
Tadashi's head popped into the room, a cheeky smile spreading over his lips. "Why not?" He said, as he dragged heavy luggage out of his bedroom and into the living room. "You have the time."
"I do, but I lack the patience ."
"You don't need much patience to take care of Pochi, he's well behaved." Tadashi had his hands on his hips, looking offended.
Before Kei could respond, he was pushed back into the leather couch by a white dog that had come speeding into the room and had plunged right into Kei's chest. "This dog has no basic concept of respect." He grunted. Pochi paid no mind to his complaint, instead tried to get a tasste of Kei's cheek with his tongue. Kei cupped the dog's face with both hands, fingers sinking into soft fur, and made him look at Tadashi. "Do you see that? Your dad is trying to leave you again."
Pochi barked.
"I'm not trying to leave him!" Tadashi exclaimed, rushing forward to cover the dog's ears. As if he had understood anything Kei said and was about to cry bitter tears. "Don't say such things around him!"
Kei laughed.
Pochi was a big kishu dog, with long, snowy white hair Tadashi spent an unbelieveable amount of money in keeping groomed and fluffy. He liked to bite Tadashi’s shoes and lick people’s faces—Kei’s specifically.
About a month ago, Tadashi had secured the promotion he'd been striving for since he'd started his job, and he now spent weeks on end traveling out of the prefecture. Because no one else seemed to have the spare time, Kei offered to look after Pochi and go out for walks with him.
Tadashi was kneeling in front of the couch, ruffling Pochi's hair and talking to him in a ridiculous, high-pitched voice. "Who's my good boy?" He cooed.
"I thought I was?” Kei asked, obviously joking, but making his best to sound serious.
"I don't think Kazuya would appreciate that," Tadashi joked back, hand under his chin, like he was actually considering it.
Kazuya was Tadashi's boyfriend.
"Well," Kei crossed his arms over his chest. " Kazuya-kun has to understand there's no debating it. Best friends are always number one."
"Plus," He added, allowing Pochi to lick his fingers. "Pochi likes me better."
Tadashi raised a brow. “Well, Kazuya got him a new squeaky toy a few days ago, and I would say Pochi likes him just fine now.”
Kei turned to the dog next to him, who was staring at Tadashi with his tongue sticking out, probably wondering if they were going out to the park. “Traitor,” He muttered, brows knitted closely together.
[...]
Kei thought he would mention it. Casually. To see how Tadashi would respond.
"I had lunch with Kuroo-san today." He started, keeping his eyes on his fingers as he unhooked the buttons of his shirt. "He said we should get married."
He heard Tadashi hum from somewhere outside the room. Kei waited a few seconds, his torso naked and his hands still, until Tadashi appeared under the doorframe. "And what did you say?"
It ocurred to Kei that Tadashi looked nervous. But he couldn't tell whether they were nervous for the same reasons.
"I said he was being ridiculous," He replied, then softly, without his usual snark. "I mean, we're fine, aren't we?"
Tadashi smiled then, as sweet and pretty as ever. "Yeah, we're okay," He sat down on their bed, next to Kei, and searched for the blond's hand. "Just like this."
[...]
“Club activities will start soon.” Tadashi whispered.
“I know.” Kei whispered back.
“We should go.”
“Just a few more minutes.”
Tadashi sat on a wooden desk, his back to the wall and his legs spread open to allow Kei to push himself between them and into Tadashi’s chest. Kei held the boy’s freckled cheek carefully, as if he was afraid his rough fingers would blemish Tadashi’s soft skin.
“You’re beautiful,” Kei breathed, lips lingering above Tadashi’s forehead.
“Shut up,” Tadashi couldn’t stop smiling.
Through the classroom’s open windows, the summer wind rushed inside and blew over forgotten notebooks and scattered pages. Yet it did nothing to calm the heat growing inside each of their hearts. Making their faces flush deep red and burning down any excuses they could muster up to try and stop their flourishing, fervent feelings for each other.
A slight push, something like Tadashi pulling on Kei’s sleeve and asking, quietly, with nervous and tight words, if they could talk after all their classmates were gone.
It was all the boys needed to fall, not very graciously, into the sea of pent up emotions and overdue confessions they had been both walking around for years.
Later, when they were both out of breath, they would look at the time and curse when they saw they were late for practice. And they would rush to gather their things and get dressed, tumbling into the gym amidst apologies and bows. But right now, as Kei leaned in and took Tadashi’s lips into a clumsy kiss, neither of them would think of anything other than how awfully glad they were to have each other.
[...]
“Is he even coming?”
Yachi shrugged her shoulders, adding another pork chop to the grill. “Yamaguchi said he’d be here.”
Kei rolled his eyes. It was a quarter past eleven, Tadashi was passed out on his shoulder, and Tadashi’s boyfriend was nowhere to be found. Kei stared at his unfinished beer, hesitant to drink now that he had witnessed what the alcohol had done to both Kageyama and Tadashi: One was locked up in the restrooms, spilling his guts into a toilet, and the other had fallen asleep after hours of childish jokes and calling for his lover.
“I’ll go check up on Tobio,” Hinata sighed, setting his chopsticks on the table and heading towards the back of the restaurant.
The glass doors of the establishment were pushed open then, and Kei’s head whipped to the side, hoping to find a mop of brown curls and an easygoing smile. Instead he found a group of friends who already looked fairly drunk asking for a table.
In front of him, Yachi tried to hide her laughter. “Well,” She started. “Tonight didn’t go according to plan.”
“Things never go according to plan when we go out for drinks.” Kei replied, giving up on his beer and pushing the glass away from his line of sight. “Why do you keep giving them alcohol anyways? They can’t even take it.”
Yachi sipped on her own drink—despite her petite height, she was fairly good with alcohol herself. “Kageyama pouts at Hinata when he drinks,” She explained, as if that made any sense to Kei. “It’s cute.”
Kei was about to say something when a heavy hand fell on his shoulder, the one that wasn’t occupied by Tadashi’s cheek.
“Sorry I’m late!” It was Kazuya, clad in a coat that looked a size too big for him, and puffing out breath like he’d just run a marathon. “My train got stuck in the snow and I had to walk here.”
“All the way from your office?” Yachi sounded scandalized. “That’s almost an hour away!”
Kei ignored them.
It wasn’t that Kei didn’t like Kazuya. Things just fell off around him. Kei had spent so many years right next to Tadashi, caring for him, loving him, that it felt wrong now for someone else to come along and replace him.
Not that Kei was jealous.
He wasn’t in love with Tadashi anymore.
But he had been once, and even though he wanted to let go more than anyone else, he was finding it a hard task to accomplish.
“Has he been asleep for long?”
Kei was snapped out of his daze by Kazuya, who was leaning over him to look at Tadashi.
“For about twenty minutes,” Kei replied, moving to wake him up. “Tashi? Come on, Kazuya-kun is here.”
“Baby?”
That single word sent a pang of pain right through Kei’s chest.
“Yeah,” He whispered, making sure only Tadashi would hear him over the music and the conversations surrounding them. “He’s here, wake up now.”
Falling out of love wasn’t hard. But watching as someone made Tadashi fall in love again was something Kei had never thought he’d have to experience.
[...]
Kei’s new apartment was bigger than the one he’d shared with Tadashi.
Unopened boxes littered the living room, and without any furniture around, the place felt too vast, too empty. He wondered, vaguely, if Tadashi felt the same way when he moved out. Out of place. Like something was missing.
Maybe he was just lonely.
Or maybe he wasn’t, and thought he should be.
He knew he didn’t want to live with Tadashi anymore. Not while they were still trying to figure out how to draw the line between platonic and romantic attraction. A feat that proved difficult when that line had always been a little blurry for them.
Perhaps, Kei felt so shaken because he hadn’t experienced true peace of mind for a few months.
The thought made him sit up.
Kei’s new apartment was empty, void of memories or lingering feelings. And maybe, that indecipherable emotion poking at his heart was neither misery nor solitude.
Maybe it was the sense of relief he’d felt earlier that day as he mounted boxes into the back of his car.
Relief that he no longer had to feel as though he was living with the ghosts of their past selves. Two teenagers eager to be moving in together, young and happy and in love.
Relief that he was now free to fill up this space with new, different memories.
Kei smiled, feeling like a new, different person himself.