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similar to most things daichi gets upset over, it’s nishinoya’s fault. riding the high of another race won against the basketball captain (no fire alarms pulled this time!), daichi walks to the gym with nishinoya and tanaka, who’s punching nishinoya cheerfully and shouting battle cries.
“pipe down!” daichi says with less bite than usual, grin wide on his face.
“daichi-san,” nishinoya starts, matching daichi’s grin but there’s less pride in it and more tomfoolery. “i bet i can receive more balls than you today.”
tanaka pipes in, “that’s what she-”
daichi raises a hand to tanaka’s face. “can it.” he raises an eyebrow as he turns to nishinoya. “what’s the catch?”
his grin grows wider and ah, that can’t be anything good. “high stakes. if i win, you have to ask out suga-san.”
his mouth opens a little, then closes shut. he tilts his head a little, hoping his face isn’t red. “why would i ask out suga?”
“you like like him, right?” tanaka teases.
daichi keeps his face as stony as he can. “no.”
tanaka responds, “oh, good, then. i didn’t know how to tell you that he was flirting with some boys from class three earlier.” he blinks innocently.
daichi is no more than a self aware fish, seeing bait on the hook and taking a bite anyway. he sighs loudly, then says flatly, “what’s in it for me.”
nishinoya jumps up, boosting himself by putting his hands on tanaka’s shoulders. “i won’t yell for an entire day of practice.”
he raises an eyebrow. “make it two.”
“dai-san…” he looks pained. serves him right. “two days. of being the calmest libero in all of miyagi prefecture.”
“it’s a deal.” daichi nods.
“noya-san,” tanaka says, holding the door open for them. “you’re so cool!”
he points to his chest with a thumb. “nothing less from karasuno’s matchmaker!”
daichi walks further into the club room, pretending not to hear them. he’s midway through tugging his jersey on, arms over his head and face covered in cloth before he freezes. nishinoya knows he likes suga? tanaka knows? suga was flirting with boys from class three? “hey, noya,” he pulls his jersey down as he turns. “how did you know that i-”
the door is still open, sunlight flooding in, and there’s suga, meeting his gaze. suga with a hand on the strap of his bag that’s slung over his shoulder, wearing that lopsided smile daichi loves. “that you what?” his eyes crinkle with mirth.
daichi blinks, trying to find the nearest object as quickly as possible. asahi stands a little to his right, opening his locker. “that i hit asahi today.”
asahi spins around, “when?”
daichi hits him in the shoulder hard enough to be believable but not hard enough to bruise. he thinks. “now.” sorry, buddy.
suga quirks an eyebrow, not quite believing him.
“that hurt, daichi!” asahi exclaims, rubbing his shoulder.
“i hit your left, you can still play.”
nishinoya laughs, grabbing asahi’s attention. daichi makes his escape and puts his best foot forward leading practice. there’s only a month before nationals and karasuno has been playing pretty well, sharpening their weapons and learning the limits of their flight. but of course, there’s always so much more ground to cover.
on the walk home, daichi sandwiches himself between suga and asahi, praying that nishinoya and tanaka forget about the… contest they mentioned earlier. in retrospect, daichi should have known better than to pick a fight about receiving to their libero, but his competitiveness and pride after letting the basketball captain eat dust gets the best of daichi more often than he’d like to admit.
the third years at the front of the pack reaches sakanoshita and daichi’s stomach makes an appearance. “kinda hungry,” he comments.
suga smiles something devilish and daichi doesn’t feel the irritation he did with nishinoya’s up-to-no-good smile at all. “i bet the rest of them are, too.” he raises his voice enough for everyone else to hear. “you’ll get us dinner, right, captain?”
nevermind. sugawara koushi was sent from hell to leech on daichi’s blood and wallet. he’s never thought a single good thing about sugawara koushi.
asahi speaks up from his left, so that his hurt shoulder is away from daichi’s wrath. “i could really go for some meat buns right now.”
daichi pulls his hand back, fingers curled into a fist until he realizes he spent his daily ‘hurt asahi’ token already. he unfurls his hand, instead choosing to pat asahi’s unharmed shoulder.
“dai-san’s buying dinner?” someone says.
daichi throws a look over his shoulder. “the adults are talking, tana-” his eyes fall to tanaka in conversation with narita and kinoshita. ennoshita has a smug look on his face. bastards. all of them. daichi can’t believe this is his family.
the last straw is when hinata jumps up with his arms spread. “thank you, captain!”
exasperated, daichi looks at suga for help. “come on. this is unfair.”
suga tilts his head innocently. “what is?”
he gestures to hinata, already talking to the others. “he bikes for half an hour to go home. i can’t say no.”
“then don’t!” suga strolls inside the store. the team follows right on his heels, including daichi.
he’s browsing a freezer full of single serve ice cream cones to grab a consolation gift for asahi, when the trouble twins saddle up to him.
“hey daichi-san,” nishinoya starts, “remember our bet?”
he takes a deep breath. captains have to take responsibility. “i remember.”
“i think i received more than you did.”
daichi hums to humor him. “how do you know?”
“i had tanaka keep track with me, i definitely received eight balls more!” he responds.
“you two need to pay more attention to what you’re doing at practice.”
“you need to ask out suga-san,” noya retorts without missing a beat.
daichi startles, “too loud!”
tanaka laughs, earning a glare. “when are you going to do it?”
“i don’t know,” grumbles daichi. “i’ll do it. you guys better hurry up if you want me to buy your food.”
“thank you, captain!” the two of them say, and they leave daichi alone.
once they all settle outside, daichi pulls asahi aside and hands him a mango flavored ice cream.
he takes it gingerly. “an apology gift,” he pauses. “you’ve never done that before. what type of trouble do i need to bail you out of?”
“i’ll take it back, then.” daichi says.
asahi laughs and daichi looks around to make sure suga isn’t coming. once he spots him talking to the second years, daichi explains himself. “i lost a bet. with nishinoya. now i have to ask suga out, then escape to another country when he rejects me.”
“wow,” asahi responds. “daichi-san’s putting his big boy pants on and properly asking out the guy he’s been in love with since his first year of high school. who would have thought!”
daichi hits him again. he’s really just asking for it. “you wouldn’t know what putting the big boy pants on feels like.”
he winces, rubbing his side. “it’ll be fine, daichi. we’re all rooting for you, captain.”
the next day, asahi leaves them alone for lunch, telling them that he has class duty.
daichi and suga are sitting outside at a picnic table, there's clouds in the sky and the breeze is welcome.
"hey," he starts.
suga looks up from his bento. "hey," he smiles.
daichi's mouth suddenly goes dry, nerves all tangled. if anyone were to look at him now, they would never guess that he was the captain of a sports team that defeated multiple local powerhouses.
"i was wondering if you wanted to do something.... sometime."
suga quirks an eyebrow and a smile pulls at the corner of his face, going from endearing to teasing in an instant. "something, sometime," he repeats amusedly. "like practice this afternoon?"
daichi rests his cheek on his chin to feel if there's warmth in his cheeks. he shakes his head, "i mean like.. just us."
"you wanna study? we do have that math test coming up after all.”
he shakes his head again. though, “yeah. but i mean..” daichi takes a deep breath. “do you want to go out with me? like on a date?”
suga breathes out a small “oh,” and then his face splits into a bright grin; daichi swears the clouds split, too, and the sun shines down on suga a little harder than before. “yeah,” he says, breathless. “i thought i was going to have to wait longer.”
daichi can’t help himself, he matches suga’s smile, giddy with joy.
the following saturday, daichi is in suga’s kitchen, wearing his cream colored karasuno sweater with the sleeves rolled up and a dark blue apron.
“we’re making macaroons,” suga texted him the night before. “my mom wants to do something special for her coworkers.” after a pause, he adds, “but i’m her dear koushi, so she made me do it.”
daichi responded, “and you made it my problem?”
“that’s what best friends are for! :p” texts suga.
so here he is, holding a white hand mixer and beating egg whites in his best friend (hopefully something more, soon!)’s house, a place that he’s been over frequently but never under the context of a date. thinking about it brings a smile that he can’t bite down.
“shit!-” exclaims suga, before proceeding to cough manically.
daichi turns off the mixer to look at him. “what happened?”
suga meets his eyes hesitantly. “took off the top too fast and breathed in all the flour.” daichi’s eyes drop down to the offending food processor. a cloud of white powder is dissipating and inside the container lies almond flour and powdered sugar. he then looks at suga shaking the white out of his hair, some powder on his cheek and forehead.
this is so stupid, daichi thinks like he’s done a million times before. i’m so in love with you.
“stop staring!” he scolds. “what are we supposed to do now?”
daichi tears his gaze away from suga and onto his phone to look at the recipe. “add coloring into the meringue. what color did you want to make it?”
he ponders this for a moment before responding, “green.” he adds on, “it reminds me of you.”
“oh,” he says like the genius he is. “that’s cute.” the words slip out of his mouth before he can think any better of it. daichi winces in embarrassment, about to lamely excuse himself.
suga says, “you’re cute,” emphasizing the you.
“me?” he points to himself.
“yeah!” suga leans in, all in daichi’s personal space. “look at you,” he places a hand on daichi’s face, swiping his thumb over the apple of his cheek. “my captain,” he swoons. “all shy and adorable. for little old me.”
“suga,” he protests. daichi’s eyes drop down to suga’s mouth and oh my god, he’s so close. if daichi leaned in not even a centimeter he’d be kissing his best friend. he looks up to meet suga’s eyes. the tension is thicker than their meringue, he’s just about to close the gap in between them-
“bro,” suga whispers, making daichi recoil. “are we about to kiss right now?”
daichi pulls all the way back, turning around and opening a cabinet to look for food coloring so suga doesn’t have to look at his face. “not anymore.”
he whines. “why?”
he puts on his most exasperated look. “you can’t call me bro when we’re about to kiss!”
“so we were about to kiss?” suga picks up the bowl of meringue, mixing it lazily with the turned off hand mixer.
“yes!” he rummages through the cabinet, full of silverware and not food coloring.
suga asks casually, “can we kiss now?”
“no!” daichi closes the cabinet with slightly more force than necessary.
suga whines again. “why not?”
“because!” daichi opens a drawer, this one full of spices. “where is the food coloring?” he speaks again once suga points him in the right direction. “it’s supposed to be special,” he lowers his voice. “it’s our first kiss.” when he looks at suga, his fist is covering his mouth in surprise. “what?” he asks gently.
“you’re adorable.” suga responds. “a complete sap. so old fashioned. i knew that about you but it’s different now that we’re…” he trails off. “you and me are going to have the best time together.” he smiles.
daichi thinks he’s insufferable. and wonderful.
he breaks his gaze to read the directions on the food coloring box. he glances up at suga to ask him for the flour but finds that suga placed the container in front of him already. daichi is… unsurprised that suga is able to read his mind when he’s always at the forefront of it. but nonetheless, daichi feels a wave of fondness strike him.
as he’s stirring in two small scoops of green dye, a loud sound startles him. when he looks, suga is standing over the sink holding the hand mixer, his thumb over a grey button that daichi assumes to be the eject function. two mixing blades lay in the sink, white foam covering them.
“sorry,” he apologizes in embarrassment.
daichi waves it off and shakes a portion of the flour into the meringue. he sees a red rubber spatula start to fold in the ingredients.
suga startles him again, albeit gentler this time. “whatcha smiling about?”
putting the flour bowl down and leaning against the counter, he looks away in response. “ah,” he rubs the back of his neck. “you were, um. folding it in. not mixing it.”
suga holds the bowl at an angle so the mixture gathers at one side and makes it easier for him to continue. “saw it on tv one time.”
“it makes the cookies rise better when we bake them off,” he laughs nervously, a little shy to talk about his interest in cooking. it’s just suga, he thinks to himself. what do we have to be nervous for? well. because it’s suga. daichi doesn’t really date- too busy with school and volleyball and pining after his best friend after being the last one to know about his own feelings. he has no idea how to be someone’s boyfriend and suga is important to him, so he can’t mess this one up.
suga hums appreciatively. “you should teach me everything you know about cooking one day.”
“everything?” he doubts. “it would take us more than a day.”
“days, then.” suga turns to daichi with a soft smile on his face. “weeks, months. i want all of it with you.”
daichi recognizes this as a promise. our first date hasn’t even ended, he wants to laugh out. another part of him says, how are you so sure you’ll want me then? that you want me now? but he knows better than to doubt suga; the two of them have always known what they’ve wanted early on, even if the asking for it lagged behind.
he nods, “all of it.”
change is hard. daichi knows this, but it doesn’t make him hurt any less. he and suga made choices, both with and without each other; they go to separate colleges in the same city and continue to date. he never expected the distance to be easy, but it affects them in ways he didn’t think it would. he’s glad for all the little things- suga sends him pictures of animals captioned with “us!” and there’s a pile in daichi’s room that keeps growing bigger from things he buys because he thinks suga would like them, gadgets like small fridge magnets and keychains.
but he misses suga’s presence. they were always touchy even as solely friends, constant high fives and falling asleep on each other’s shoulder on bus rides home from games. during their first year of college, daichi toughs it out for an impressive amount of time. he blames old habits dying hard every time he turns to his side when he laughs, expecting suga to be there. their second year, he feels suga’s absence like a phantom limb- a part of him removed and he’s not quite used to life without it.
needless to say, all these things only mean that in the few times they visit each other, daichi clings to him like a bear and refuses to let him go. the attention is not unwelcome.
tonight, they promised each other to make macaroons over facetime and daichi’s been looking forward to it since they agreed upon the date last week- he even went down to the farmer’s market by bus to pick up fresh strawberries.
he calls suga, leaning his phone against his coffee machine and tying his apron. whipped, he knows, but he can’t fight the smile making its way onto his face as the phone rings.
when suga picks up, he’s met with the complete opposite of the light and airy wave he’s been riding all day. even through mediocre camera quality, he notices that the circles under suga’s eyes are deeper than normal, the line of his jaw tighter from gritted teeth, and his face carries weariness.
“oh, baby.” daichi murmurs. “what happened?”
“hey, dai.” he greets. “just tired.”
daihi nods sympathetically. oh, what he would do to hold suga and let him sleep for a week to ease his worries. “we don’t have to cook today,” he says gently. “seeing your face is more than enough for me.”
suga shakes his head almost violently. “we’re going to make macaroons. i need sugar.” he looks away, probably rummaging to find equipment.
daichi laughs. “i’m too far away for that.”
he looks back at the camera. “wha- oh. sugar.” he deadpans, “very clever, daichi.”
daichi only laughs harder. “alright, let’s get going.”
they do the meringue first. egg whites in a bowl, followed by sugar and heavy whisking. college dorms are not as nice as the kitchens at home and neither suga’s apartment or daichi’s house have a mixer. as daichi rummages around for a regular whisk, he looks down at the mixture and sighs. he guesses he could use an arm workout.
he looks at the screen once he starts beating the eggs, finding that suga is doing the same thing. “how was your day?” he asks.
suga sighs. “not great. we have a group project due tomorrow in sociology and my group’s resident idiot,” he points to himself, “told us he could do the slideshow, completely forgetting the literature paper he has. that’s also due tomorrow.”
daichi’s heart tugs with pity. “sounds like he needs a lot of rest.”
“he doesn’t have the time,” he sighs.
“i know what that feels like,” he comments. this isn’t easy for either of them.
once their eggs are whipped and arms are sore, they move on to processing flour and sugar.
“i didn’t get any almond flour,” suga says. “you think regular would be fine?”
daichi shrugs. “probably.”
it was not fine.
an hour later, after daichi made his strawberry jam and suga his chocolate frosting, they pulled their respective cookies out of the oven. daichi's, while a little flat, were pretty standard looking. suga's, on the other hand, were not as lucky. almond and all purpose flour, they come to find out, are not equivalent substitutes.
suga shows daichi a cookie, the edges spreading out instead of rising up, and the color almost black instead of the light brown suga had intended to go for.
daichi almost laughs and tells suga that there's a reason he's the cook out of the two of them. but then, he notices suga's eerie quietness and refusal to look at the camera. "hey," he prods gently. "you okay?"
suga nods quickly, trying to brush off his attention. well, he's going to need a lot more than a hurried nod to shake off daichi's worry. "baby," he says. "what's wrong?"
he sighs tiredly, letting out an irritated noise. “nothing is going right,” he starts waving his hands around as he talks, a telltale sign of his nerves. “it’s been so hard lately and we’re always so busy and i miss you like crazy. i have two stupid fucking projects due tomorrow and i’m going to spend all night working and i hate not sleeping. you know that, right? that i get bitchy when i don’t sleep? but there’s nothing i can do and everything feels so wrong and i couldn’t even-” he snaps the cookie he’s holding, “-do this right! when we’ve done it a million times!”
daichi’s a light breeze away from bursting into tears. “suga…” he starts. “i know it’s hard. it’s okay that it is. it doesn’t mean things won’t turn around,” he pauses to find the right words. “i know you get bitchy in your sleep. and i know that you’re incredible. i miss you too. so much. the macaroons.. well,” he gestures, to which suga chuckles at. “there’s nothing we can do about that. it’s okay. things happen. when we graduate and buy a stand mixer, i’ll make macaroons with you ‘til you can do them in your sleep. we just gotta make it ‘til then. okay?”
“tell me about the house,” suga requests, leaning on the countertop with his forearms. his face looks less sad, but the tiredness stays right in place.
daichi smiles. “after we graduate and get nice jobs, we’ll get a nice house by a lake. or the beach. some type of water. it’ll have a decent size lawn for the kids and the dog. a porch where we can relax with a wind chime hanging nearby, and we’ll both garden.”
suga hums, having closed his eyes in the middle of daichi’s talk. “and the kitchen?”
“has an island so the kids can watch us cook.”
suga replies, “you mean a bigger audience to lecture to about knife skills.”
“you see right through me.”
suga hums again. “the house sounds nice. can we get a cat too?”
“sure.” daichi nods. “anything you want.”
“sounds nice,” he finally opens his eyes. “of course, i want all those things. but even if it’s just the two of us in a shitty studio apartment, i’d be pretty happy.”
he chuckles, “don’t worry. that’ll be us right after graduation, before we make six figures.”
suga scoffs. “what school is giving me six figures?”
“the one you’re going to work at,” he says in a matter of fact voice.
he laughs. “thanks, daichi.” his tone turns softer. “i can’t wait. for the house by the water.”
“me neither. that’s why you need to work hard to be the breadwinner of our future family.” he teases.
“and what are you going to do?”
“be a stay at home dad.” his smile grows wider.
suga muses, “my trophy husband.”
daichi nods in agreement. “are you feeling better?”
“yeah,” he replies. “this will all be worth it.” he sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than daichi.
he hates that he can’t do anything for suga; he can’t lessen his workload or make him a bowl of soup or brush his hair away from his eyes. he hates that all he can give suga right now is a promise, a vision, a future, and nothing tangible. but he hands it over, anyway.
daichi is 26 when he realizes the house by the water might have to wait a little longer. what he has now isn’t so bad, though.
the wooden floors of their new apartment creak. there’s a few mysterious stains on the walls and it has a popcorn ceiling. the only separation between the kitchen and the living room is the change in flooring from wood to tile.
but it’s only five minutes away from the train station which suga visits every morning to get to school. it’s ten minutes away from the car repair shop daichi works at. there’s a little konbini down the road with the best locally owned brand of chocolate milk. across, there is a ramen shop owned by a couple that lives on the floor above the restaurant.
it’s not what they imagined at all, but it’s theirs. from the leaky attic ceiling to the tomatoes they planted last week in the courtyard, it’s all theirs.
they are also sappy folk who stick by tradition. to commemorate their first month in their new home, daichi and suga make macaroons.
daichi is slicing peaches for the filling as suga unpacks their new stand mixer on the floor, styrofoam all over the area surrounding him.
“babe,” suga calls out, holding two white triangles and what looks like a transparent sun visor. “what the hell are these?”
“paddle attachments,” he answers easily, as if he’s ever used a stand mixer in his life. “the left one is a hook for stuff like kneading bread, the middle is a paddle for basic mixing, and the other one…” he trails off. “a weapon?”
suga laughs. “the hook wasn’t enough?”
daichi points to the metal attachment on the ground beside suga. “that one is the whisk.”
he glares in response. “i know what a whisk looks like!”
he smiles, turning his attention back to the diced peaches and putting them in a pot, then adding sugar in and turning on the stove. “are you going to unpack the food processor?”
suga looks up from the plastic film he’s peeling off the stand mixer and shakes his head. “do we need one?”
“for the flour and stuff,” daichi shrugs. “it makes the cookies all smooth and pretty.”
“like me, then?” teases suga.
daichi looks at suga, putting on his sincerest face. "the greatest cookie i've ever made pales in comparison to you, my love."
suga's mouth opens in surprise, eyebrows lifting and face rapidly turning red. he picks up a piece of styrofoam and hucks it at daichi's side. "daichi!" he scolds. "you can't just do that!"
daichi bats his eyelashes innocently. "do what? proclaim my love for my dearest koushi?"
"i'm the one who embarrasses you by flirting!" he waves around. "what is this?"
"you're rubbing off on me." daichi smiles cleverly, the way he imagines suga would.
"bad influence."
daichi nods and hums in agreement.
once suga cleans the floor, putting all the waste within the box that the stand mixer came in, he places the machine on top of the countertop. he goes around daichi to an unpacked but open moving box full of dishes to grab a bowl and crack eggs, separating the whites from the yolks using the shells.
"good," daichi comments as he watches suga's technique.
"backseat driver, much?" replies suga with no bite. "did you get the almond flour?"
daichi snorts. "after what happened junior year in college, i've always had it on hand.”
suga swats at him. "stop that! you act as if your college experience was more put together than mine. some nights, i close my eyes and i can still see the forty million empty cans of red bull under your bed." he pours the separated egg whites into the mixing bowl, turning on the machine and then measuring out sugar.
daichi turns the heat down low and leaves the peach jam to simmer while he gets another bowl. “they won’t have a smooth top,” he says. “no food processor.”
suga shrugs, “what does it matter? as long as they taste good.” he says. “not everything has to look the way you envision it, mr. perfectionist.”
daichi huffs out a laugh, lightly hitting him. “you’re one to talk.”
“yeah, but you’ve always beaten me in things like that, captain.”
“you imply i’m less put together than you.”
suga looks away, pouring sugar in gradually into the stand mixer. “now, who said that?” before daichi has a chance to reply, suga continues to talk. “are you ever going to mix the flour? also, why can’t i just put all this sugar in at once? we’ve always done it in batches.”
daichi weighs flour and powdered sugar together. “so the air in the eggs don’t deflate. gives it a stabilizer, too.” he adds in orange food coloring and stirs until the mixture becomes the color of a creamsicle.
suga turns off the machine once he’s satisfied with the stiffness of the meringue. he twists the bowl out of the machine and picks up the flour, adding it in gently and folding the mixture. daichi moves back to the peaches, stirring to assess the doneness. he notices a chip in the countertop, adds it to the mental list of things he has to fix, along with changing every bulb in the apartment because suga can’t stand yellow light.
suga can’t stand quietness, either, so he begins to hum some song he’s made daichi listen to on a car ride to the store.
this is the way his life is going to be- trips with suga to get groceries or hardware, motor oil in the crevices of his skin from work, a million little things around the apartment he wants to fix and suga placating his urges with a soft kiss to his neck or to his palm.
once the batter is done, suga loads it into a plastic bag while daichi puts parchment paper over two baking sheets and turns on the oven to warm up.
suga pipes circles onto the tray, trying to make them equal in size. he accidentally pipes one considerably bigger than the rest, murmurs a quiet “sorry,” and moves on.
daichi wraps an arm around his waist, rests his forehead against suga’s right shoulder. “it’s alright,” he says quietly. “doesn’t matter when it’s you.”
“so hard on yourself,” his face moves when suga turns the bag up to not spill any. he places a firm kiss to daichi’s hair, “my baby.” he murmurs, continuing to pipe the batter.
daichi buries his face closer, laughing softly when suga lets out a yelp after daichi bites his shoulder.
once suga finishes, they let the cookies rest. “i know this one,” suga says. “to make the film on top so they’re smooth.”
daichi smiles, fond that when suga asks him about little cooking factoids, he commits them to memory. “and?”
“so they rise up and not out!” he preens.
daichi ruffles his hair. “good work. gold star for you.”
suga laughs and then moves away from daichi’s hold to unpack a box of mugs, storing them in the overhead cabinets. “we have an apartment together.”
“the sky is blue.” daichi responds in the same tone.
“shut up, i was trying to be romantic.” he laughs again. “i live in an apartment with my boyfriend. isn’t that such a great sentence?”
he sighs, settling behind suga, handing him the mugs from the box and letting him put them away. “yeah. sounds perfect.”
after the cookies bake and cool, they pile peach jam on half of the batch and use the other half to sandwich it in. the cookies rose well, but their color is more rusty red than orange and the filling is so messy that it coats their hands in jam when they try to eat.
“good,” suga comments through a mouthful of macaroon.
“not the best.” he replies.
suga holds a macaroon, offering it to daichi’s mouth. “it’s alright. we’ll just have to keep making more.”
he takes a bite. suga’s solution is so easy, so simple. we aren’t running out of time is unsaid, but daichi hears it regardless.
a promise, a vision, a future: fulfilled.