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In the dull golden rays seeping through the blinds, in the haze of morning sunlight, in the tousled sheets shining in liquid honey, sits a dishevelled figure. Grey hair flopping in his eyes and shoulders hunched as he sits at the edge of the bed, he sighs.
Keiji approaches with care, cautious. While he was once familiar with dealing in this sort of thing, he's since become unaccustomed. Bokuto's mood swings, his constant highs and lows, had once been second nature to Keiji. He'd counted them, listed them off and memorized them. But when those weaknesses had been left behind in their adult lives, so had the list.
And now Keiji is wholly unprepared to deal with the emotional state Bokuto has found himself in. This isn't exactly a weakness, he'd say. It's not the high school emo modes that had left chaos in their wake. It's just Bokuto having a rough day.
Keiji takes a deep breath. Bokuto is just having a rough day. He can deal with that.
"Koutarou," He speaks cautiously.
Bokuto slumps further into himself. His hair flops on his eyes and he lets out a heavy, heavy sigh.
"Koutarou," Keiji says with more force.
Bokuto perks up a little. He turns his head and looks at Keiji with drooping eyelids. His golden eyes sit dull and sunken, no shimmer or shine or general love for life glimmering in the irises.
“What’s wrong?” Keiji presses, a gentle edge to his voice in an attempt to soothe Bokuto.
Bokuto sniffles. “Nothing,” He says in a voice so painfully fake.
“You sure?” Keiji asks. He knows Bokuto can be stubborn, but he also knows Bokuto can’t not talk about something when he does want to talk about it.
“It’s stupid,” Bokuto mumbles. He stuffs his face in between his fists and balances his elbows on his knees.
Keiji sits next to him on the bed, the mattress creaking beneath the added weight. He sighs, not in a heavy way, in a more readying sense. “Your feelings aren’t stupid,” He says, “Nothing about you is stupid.”
Bokuto snorts. “That’s not what Kei and Tetsu say.”
“Is this about them? Did they say something?” To set you off, Keiji leaves out.
“No,” Bokuto says, dejected.
Keiji raises his eyebrows, a silent gesture Bokuto can’t see, an invitation to continue talking.
“I just...I had this dream,” Bokuto sniffles, “It’s stupid, I told you.”
“It’s not stupid,” Keiji reassures.
“Um...I had this dream where you all left me...you said I was too loud and um...Kei said I was annoying and always his least...his least favourite,” Bokuto takes a shaky breath, “Tetsu said that um — he said that you all only dated me because you didn’t know how to reject me.” He runs a hand through his unbrushed hair.
“Oh,” Is all Keiji can manage.
It’s a lot to take in, at first. Such a deep insecurity of Bokuto’s surfacing when Keiji had nearly thought him free of weakness. But of course, that’s ridiculous. No one can ever be fully free of weakness, not even someone so sure as Bokuto.
“You know none of that’s true, right?” Keiji starts.
“Yeah, ‘course. ‘S just a dumb dream.” Bokuto presses his face deeper into his fists.
“No, it’s not dumb. It’s okay to have doubts, about yourself and others. It’s part of being human. Our minds sometimes make us think bad things and our subconscious paints them into bad dreams. But it’s important to remember that we love you. All of us. You might be loud, but you’re never too loud. And you’re not annoying, I love listening to you talk. You always get so excited and it’s...well, it’s adorable.” Keiji smiles despite the severity of the conversation. “And Kei doesn’t have a favourite, not really at least. None of us do, we’re all equals,” He says.
“I know,” Bokuto mumbles.
“And Tetsurou, well, you know he’s been in love with you since high school. Me too. And of course, Kei. None of us would ever want to reject you.”
“You mean it?” Bokuto asks. He straightens his back to look Keiji in the eyes. There are two angry red imprints on his cheeks from where his fists dug marks into him, but his eyes don’t seem nearly as dull.
“Of course. I love you, and I know Kei and Tetsu do, too. Until the end of time , right?” Keiji asks with a smile. His fingers draw a line across his collar bone where his necklace would be if he’d actually gotten ready in the morning instead of lounging around in clothes that definitely aren’t his.
Bokuto mouths the phrase on unsure lips, tasting it out as if to remember the meaning. He nods with a newfound surety, shoulders pressing back as he straightens to his full height. “Yeah,” He says, “I love you too.”
Keiji chuckles.
“You think we can stay home today and watch really bad romance movies?” Bokuto asks.
Keiji hums, “I’m sure we can arrange that.”
Bokuto gives him a quick kiss on the cheek and they both leave the room smiling.
Grocery shopping is not something that comes easy to the four of them. It’s always a hassle, always one mistake or another that ends in the whole ordeal being much more painful than it needs to be. As a preventative measure, they’ve cut it down to two of them going out once a week, to provide some sort of routine and avoid incidents such as The Great Cheese Fiasco (they do not talk about The Great Cheese Fiasco).
Having only two of them go on the journey of grocery shopping is, in their collective eyes, a wise decision. When the four of them used to go out it was too much work to keep them all in one place, to keep track of everyone and to get what they needed with minimal distractions. When one of them had gone out it had ended in many groceries being forgotten and another trip needed the next day. Three of them going on the errand had only resulted in the same amount of chaos as the four of them, but with the added issue of the house nearly being burnt down by the person who’d stayed behind (cough, Kuroo, cough).
Therefore, two was the obvious option. None of the chaos that comes with all four of them going shopping, none of the worry that goes with three of them, and none of the forgetfulness that goes with only one.
However, just because it’s the ideal situation, does not mean it works in the slightest. As Keiji is currently figuring out.
Kuroo is having great difficulty bagging some vegetables. “Why can’t we just get the prepackaged ones?” He grunts while shoving some green onions into a bag.
“Are you going to eat that many green onions?” Keiji asks without looking up from his phone. He’s really not keen on watching Kuroo make a fool of himself in the middle of a marketplace.
“No,” Kuroo huffs. He tosses the bag carelessly into the cart and continues on, studying the worn yellow sticky note in his hand.
Keiji finally tucks his phone away and follows Kuroo, pushing the cart through the produce section.
Kuroo groans. He squints at the list in hand for another few seconds before completely giving up. “Koutarou said he needed something but he didn’t write it on the list.”
“Uh-huh,” Keiji hums, again pulling out his phone. “I’m sure you can remember,” He says as encouragement.
“Can’t you just text him?” Kuroo asks. He looks two seconds away from screaming like a toddler, or crying like one, or both.
“He’s at practice,” Keiji says with a half-shrug.
“Y’think Kei would know?” Kuroo scratches at the back of his neck.
“Also at practice.”
Kuroo glares at Keiji.
“Don’t shoot the messenger, you’re doing fine without them.” Keiji tries for a more sincere tone. “You can do this, what does Koutarou need?”
“I don’t know, something stupid,” Kuroo says with a lighthearted scowl.
“Spinach?” Keiji guesses.
“Close but not quite.”
“Arugula?”
“That’s a little too stupid.”
“Kale?”
“Bingo!” Kuroo smiles wide and gives Keiji a little finger gun gesture. He goes to pick out the kale with a happy skip of his feet.
The next problem arises when at the self-checkout. They’re in the homestretch of leaving, with everything piled into their cart and only the need to scan it all and pay, when the universe decides neither of them has suffered enough, and an alarm rings.
“What did you do?” Keiji hisses in a low voice.
Kuroo shrugs quite aggressively, slowly raising his hands like he’s about to be arrested and eyeing the approaching employee cautiously.
“You’re so ridiculous,” Keiji mutters as the employee scans a card and apologizes for the machine.
“What happened ‘ you can do this’ ?” Kuroo asks with a huff. He continues scanning their groceries with a pointed glare at Keiji.
“That was when I was sure you were capable of basic errands.”
“Rude and uncalled for,” Kuroo says, brows furrowing in an offence that may possibly be real.
They finally manage to get their groceries bagged up (in reusable bags because Tsukishima likes that they’re better for the environment) and drag them all out to the car with no more problems cropping up.
The drive home is a nice end to a long, stressful day. It’s quiet, only the murmur of the nearly muted radio and Kuroo’s low humming as he drives.
Keiji picks at a hangnail on his left thumb. “You did good in there,” He says absently.
Kuroo scoffs, chuckles, says, “I don’t actually need reassurance. None of that was a big deal.”
But there’s a smile tilting ever so slightly at the corners of his lips that says otherwise, and while Keiji never thought he was all that good with words, now he thinks those were just the right ones.
Tsukishima is really something. Keiji loves him, he really does. And while he’s usually the easiest of Keiji’s boyfriends to deal with, sometimes he’s…well, himself.
“If I silently hate these people for the entire night do you think they’ll leave me alone?” Tsukishima grumbles while straightening a rather tight tie. Saying he’s not excited for the business party Kuroo’s invited the three of them to would be, in Keiji’s opinion, an understatement. There’s a deep furrow in Tsukishima's brow and a permanent downturn to his lips that would make him look menacing if Keiji was scared of overgrown nerds. However, he’s not, and so he doesn't find the expression anything less than endearing.
“I think that’s an awful idea,” Keiji replies, straightening his own tie.
“If you make a bad impression on my coworkers I will embarrass you at your next game,” Kuroo says with a vaguely threatening chuckle.
Tsukishima glares at him. He finishes fidgeting with his tie and steps out to the doorway of the bedroom.
“You’ll do fine, you know,” Keiji says, “You’re not nearly as awful as you think you are.” He smiles dryly before continuing, “Plus, it’ll just be a bunch of old rich men. Tell them you play a sport and they’ll go wild.”
“A sport?” Tsukishima laughs instead of acknowledging the borderline praise. “Does my own boyfriend not know my job?”
Kuroo laughs under his breath and Bokuto snorts from where he lay on his stomach atop the bed, quietly flicking through his phone.
“Obviously I do,” Keiji says, rolling his eyes without real malice as he, too, finishes adjusting his outfit.
“Right,” Tsukishima drawls.
“Right,” Kuroo agrees, “We ready to go?”
Bokuto hums an affirmative and jumps to his feet. Kuroo grabs him by the wrist to intertwine their fingers and the two walk out hand in hand. Kuroo glances over his shoulder with eyebrows raised, a silent you coming? plays across his features.
“Yeah, just a minute,” Tsukishima mumbles.
Keiji furrows his brows. That’s an unusual tone for Tsukishima, nearly resigned-sounding. He hears Kuroo and Bokuto’s footsteps slowly recede, then the front door opening and closing, and he decides to ask about it.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Tsukishima answers way too quickly.
“Are you really worried about tonight?” Keiji hadn’t thought Tsukishima was serious about any of that. Whenever he’s voiced concerns about social events in the past, they’ve all been jokes (or attempts at jokes), but never has Keiji seen Tsukishima so reluctant at the idea of a simple business party.
“Not worried ,” Tsukishima says, “Just...unenthused.”
Keiji forces back a snicker. “You’re worried.”
“Maybe,” Tsukishima admits. “I don’t really care but people...don’t tend to like me.”
Keiji doesn't exactly follow. Sure, it’s easy to tease Tsukishima, and he definitely has a personality that takes time to warm up to, but the concept of people simply not liking him sounds a little bizarre.
“I don’t think so,” Keiji says, “I think you’re your own worst critic, in this case. You’ll do fine tonight. You may not be the best at first impressions but you should give yourself a little credit. You can hold a conversation in an adult way, and that’s more than a lot of people can do.”
Tsukishima snorts.
“Look at it this way,” A little smile edges at Keiji’s lips, pleased and a bit smug, “You have three boyfriends. There’s no way people don’t like you.”
Tsukishima considers this for a second. “As much as I hate to say it, you’re right.”
Keiji rolls his eyes and scoffs. “You love me.”
“Definitely.”
The two leave the room, finding Kuroo and Bokuto still patiently waiting in the car. Keiji thinks no matter what the night holds, it’ll be great because of the people he’s with.
(He’s wrong, of course, business parties are not fun in the slightest and this one is no exception. But, he can admit it would’ve been a lot worse had he been alone. He can thank his wonderful boyfriends for that.)