Archive of Our Own ^beta

Here’s the beginning: Kuroo Tetsurou walks into a graveyard. This isn’t very unusual, considering that the graveyard cuts through a busy part of town and walking through it saves him a good ten minutes on his walk home from work every day. 

His feet are dragging today, because it was a dreadful, no good, absolutely terrible day at work. It doesn’t matter how many times he tells customers that it really isn’t ethical to use love potions, they still try to insist that he make one for them. It almost always ends with an angry customer storming out and Tetsurou thanking every god he can think of that the store isn’t registered on Yelp. 

Despite the lack of Yelp status, and the hordes of angry teenagers experiencing their first love, he does love his job. 

Just more on some days than others.  

The shop has been in his family for generations. It’s a quaint hole-in-the-wall store and he loves it fiercely. He grew up there on his mother’s knee, watching with wide eyes as she mixed potions and wrote spells for all sorts of interesting characters. His earliest memories were of his mom talking to spirits and reading tarot cards to him like bedtime stories.

So the graveyard doesn’t bother him much. He likes to think that, after all these years, he’s aware enough of the spirits to sense if they were malicious. 

He still carries pepper spray, though, because he did get mugged in this graveyard once. He’s more wary of the living that hang out here. 

There aren’t any spirits lingering in the graveyard today, at least not as far as he can tell. He’s alone in the graveyard, blasting pop music through his speakers and dragging his worn-down sneakers along the dirt path. It’s a nice day, one of the last true summer days he suspects they’ll have for the year. The sun is dipping towards the west, and there’s a breeze rustling the still green leaves of the trees. 

He thinks he sees someone out of the corner of his eye, but doesn’t turn his head to look. It could be a spirit, could be a mourner. Either way, he doesn’t want to get caught staring. 

Maybe it’s because he’s lost in thought, but the moment his life changes forever takes him by quite the surprise. It goes like this: 

He sighs, skips to the next song, and promptly slams into another body that he swears wasn’t there before. 

His phone immediately slips out of his hands as he shouts in surprise, a complaint echoed by the tall man he just ran into at full speed. 

He scrambles for his phone, but does such an absolutely abysmal job that he can really only watch in horror as it slams face-first onto the blacktop path. 

“Are you okay?” he hears.

He wants to snap that no, he and his definitely-destroyed phone are most definitely not okay, thank you very much , but he looks up and nearly balks at the sight of the man in front of him. 

Now, at 6’1”, most people on average aren’t taller than Tetsurou. He can go entire days without running into someone taller than him. But this stranger- this gorgeous stranger- has at least two inches on him, if not more. 

He didn’t think that mattered to him, but he’s quickly starting to change his mind. 

He also didn’t fancy himself all that much of a romantic, either. 

(Which, if you ask anyone who knows him, is a lie.) 

But the guy he just bodied in the graveyard is not only tall, but is quite possibly the prettiest man Tetsurou has ever seen. Short, curly blond hair and thick glasses, and- god help him, are those freckles on his nose? Tetsurou very suddenly feels like he can’t breathe.

Yeah, he’s a romantic. Definitely of the hopeless variety. 

(At least, he’s finally willing to admit it to himself now. Only took him twenty-three years. He’s pretty sure he’s looking at the face of God, so he might as well come clean in his last glorious moments.) 

Then, he realizes that this poor man he just knocked the wind out of has asked him a question, and he’s just been staring at him with his mouth open like a fool. 

“Yeah,” he says, biting back all of the terrible pickup lines fighting on the tip of his tongue, “I’m not so sure about my phone, though.” 

“Maybe you should look where you’re going,” the man says. 

Tetsurou laughs at the stranger’s bluntness, bewildered. It reminds him a little of Kenma, he thinks as he bends down to pick up his phone. Before he turns it over, he puts in one more prayer to any gods that might be listening that the stupid thing defied all logic and isn’t as shattered as Tetsurou’s heart was by his last breakup. 

He turns it over. 

And lets out an overly dramatic sigh of relief when he sees that it’s only cracked in the corner. “Fair enough.” 

When he looks back up the man is already moving to leave, but Tetsurou feels a weight in his chest, like it’s pulling him to him. Despite all of the previous thirst that had gone through his mind, he’s sure that this is something more, something telling him not to let the man go. 

“Wait,” he says without thinking. 

The guy pauses, confusion written across his stupidly pretty features. “What?” 

Tetsurou blinks, realizing that he’s supposed to say something now. The spirits might be trying to tell him that this man is important, but they sure as hell aren’t giving him anything to work with to keep him around. 

“Sorry,” he lamely settles for, “For running into you.” 

The man only looks more confused. “It’s fine?” 

He can’t think of anything else to say, so Tetsurou watches him leave, wondering why he feels a little like he’s going to cry as he sees him go. 

He turns his shitty pop music up and decides to jog the rest of the way home. It’s a pity that he’s wearing jeans. 

Kenma Kozume is already home by the time Tetsurou gets to their apartment, the man in the graveyard lingering in his mind. 

Kenma is, by all standards, a good roommate. Probably the best, even. They’re quiet and keep mostly to themself and their video games. They never forget to replace the cold brew when they run out, despite the fact that Tetsurou often forgets to replace the oat milk. Still, Kenma doesn’t nag, and they never complain about the smell when Kuroo cleanses the apartment with incense. 

Plus they’d known each other for over ten years now, so Tetsurou is pretty sure he’ll never find a better best friend. 

They’d met when Kenma’s family moved into the apartment across the hall from Tetsurou and his mom.  Kenma’s parents worked evenings a lot, so Tetsurou’s mother had offered to keep an eye on them at the shop. Kenma had never been all that interested in the business of magic, but Tetsurou had begged and pleaded with his mom until she let him move his Gamecube into the shop so he and Kenma could play MarioKart after they finished their homework. Even then, he’d still managed to get Kenma out and into the shop on plenty of occasions, teaching them all that he knew about the various plants and potions and spells. In return, Kenma had brought more video games for the two of them to play together. 

“We’re out of oat milk again,” Kenma says, snapping Kuroo out of memory lane. 

“Fuck,” Tetsurou replies with little enthusiasm. “I can pick some up on the way home tomorrow.” 

Kenma nods before turning back to their Switch, humming a battle theme under their breath that Tetsurou doesn’t recognize. 

He wanders into the kitchen and his mind wanders with him. He thinks of the boy in the graveyard. This isn’t entirely unusual because Tetsurou, despite his obvious wisdom and claims that he was as level-headed as one could possibly be, had a tendency to fall in love with strangers every other week. (This was all way claiming not to be a romantic, of course.) The beautiful barista at the coffee shop who smiled at him brighter than the sun. The volleyball player on the opposite team who managed to get past his blocks. The ghost that stopped to see him on the way to haunt her ex-boyfriend. They came and they went, nothing more than quick spikes in Tetsurou’s heart rate. 

But here he was, staring into their half-empty fridge and thinking about the stranger’s dusty blond hair and the light spattering of freckles across his nose. Still . 

“You’re going to run the electricity bill up if you don’t close the door,” Kenma chides, once again reminding Tetsurou to live in the present. “What are you thinking about?”

Kenma, despite their antisocial tendencies, has always been hyper-aware of everything going on around them. They can sense a shift in the room’s tone long before anyone else realizes that something’s off, even Tetsurou. It’s a pity they decided to devote themself to video games instead of honing their psychic abilities, because they’d probably be really good at it. 

“I’m thinking about how I need to get my phone screen fixed,” Tetsurou sighs. “It’s cracked, I don’t want it to get worse.” 

“I told you to get a screen protector,” Kenma chides again. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to be a psychic?” Tetsurou asks. “Pretty please?” 

“It’s not magic, it’s common sense,” Kenma replies. “The shop on the corner does repairs cheap.” 

Tetsurou makes a note of that. “By the way, did we get any mail?” 

“Mhm. We’re invited to Yachi and Kiyoko’s wedding in June.” 

“They got engaged?” 

Kenma hums as a confirmation. “Close the fridge door, I already ordered us takeout.” 

Tetsurou does as commanded, sighing in relief. He loves cooking, he really does, but there’s no way he can get his head on straight enough to focus right now. “Have I told you I love you lately?” 

“No,” Kenma says, even though they both know it’s a lie. Tetsurou told them that he loved them that morning when Kenma had reminded him to put a sweatshirt on because it was the first chilly day of the season. 

Tetsurou considers throwing the empty carton of oat milk at them, but decides to be merciful instead. “Liar.” 

Kenma hums. “Maybe so.” 

It’s a peaceful night, spent playing video games and eating bad takeout with his best friend, but Tetsurou can’t stop his mind from wandering all evening. He can’t stop thinking about the boy in the graveyard, can’t stop wondering why he felt such a strong connection to him. He wants to talk to Kenma about it, but he doesn’t know how to explain the feeling to them. The weight he’d felt in his chest wasn’t something he’d ever felt because of a stranger before, let alone one that was kind of rude to him. 

The thoughts don’t leave him alone until he finally falls asleep, hours after going to bed. 

The changing of the seasons is, without a doubt, Tetsurou’s favorite time of year. The beginning of fall is the best, when the leaves are starting to turn yellow and red and the air is crisp. There isn’t much he likes more than watching the bright summer greens and blues fade into oranges and reds as pumpkins and decorations begin to line the streets. 

Fall for him means cozy, rainy days and burning lots of candles. It means sweaters and playing volleyball with the neighborhood team and Kenma. It means his friends are more in town than not, with their schedules having home games in the city rather than scattered throughout the country. Fall also, best of all in his opinion, means hot chai tea lattes and folk music. 

Both of which he is more than happily enjoying on his way to the shop today. It’s still only early September, but the temperature has already begun to drop dramatically. The leaves haven’t quite started changing colors yet, but he can forgive them for that. After all, it’s only been a few days since his designated Last Good Summer day (also, coincidentally, the day he ran into Tall, Rude, and Handsome in the graveyard) and he knows better than to expect changes overnight. 

The Black Cat Apothecary doesn’t officially open its doors to the public until eleven, but he likes to get there around ten to clean up and make sure that everything is still neat and organized. Despite the fact that he always stays at least half an hour after closing to make sure everything is tidy, he’s always convinced that a mess will magically appear overnight. More logically, it also gives him a head start to work on any teas or pre-jarred spells he has going out that day, just in case it gets busy during business hours. 

In the past, when he was fresh out of high school and just starting to take over the shop and incredibly overwhelmed, he’d considered hiring a cashier to help out, but he’d never gotten around to it. It worked out, though, because he’s a little bit of a control freak when it comes to the store. Tetsurou likes getting to talk to all of his customers personally. He likes making all of the teas and spell jars and he likes drying the herbs himself- it feels more special that way, when they have his personal touch. It makes him feel more connected to his magic, to his customers, and to his mom. 

Whom he definitely hasn’t called recently. He’ll need to do that soon-the longer he waits, the more shit she’ll give him about it.  

He makes a mental note about it as he reaches the shop with a spring still in his step and gets to work starting his day. 

After a few hours, and all of five customers, it’s clear that it’s going to be a slow day, so he turns to a timeless activity to pass the hours: fucking around and finding out. This time, he decides to throw a tea recipe together, because even if it tastes terrible he could theoretically still consider it a success if it helps with digestion or some shit like that. He rationalizes this aloud to Turkey Leg, his shop cat who refuses to leave the premises no matter how hard he tries to bribe her with sweets, who gives him a judgemental look. Turkey Leg, his beloved, has been at the shop for as long as he could remember, but doesn’t look a day over five. He has a feeling she might be there long after him, too. 

Regardless, judgy cat or not, he loves mixing the different flavor profiles and herbs to see what strange combinations he can come up with that still actually taste good. 

He’s adding a dash of peppermint, which could make or break this tea, to his reusable tea bag when the door opens. Tetsurou turns to greet his customer, his jaw dropping slightly when he realizes that he recognizes him. 

It’s the boy from the graveyard, wearing the same dark hoodie and ripped jeans that he had been just a few days ago. Tetsurou isn’t sure how he remembers that, and hopes it doesn’t make him as horrifically creepy as he thinks it does, and chalks it up to the fact that every detail of the beautiful man is burned into the back of his eyelids. 

Except...that’s worse. That’s definitely worse. 

Either way, it’s fate, he thinks. Maybe the spirits had a point when they were pulling them together the other day. 

Or, considering the disdained look on the stranger’s face, he’s probably just lost and is now realizing that this isn’t the Hot Topic he’s looking for. A tragedy, but it wouldn’t be the first time. 

But when their eyes meet, the man’s brown eyes widen, like he recognizes Tetsurou, too. Actually, he most definitely does recognize him, because he opens his mouth and says, “It’s you.” 

“It’s me,” Tetsurou replies lamely, mentally kicking himself for not thinking of anything smoother to say. He definitely doesn’t feel disappointed by the lack of emotion in the man’s voice at the revelation. Definitely not. 

Then he gets over himself just long enough to remember that he’s at work, and adds, “How can I help you?” 

The guy picks at his sleeve for a moment, looking uncomfortable, before pulling himself up to his full height, almost like he’s steeling himself. “Do you have anything for hexes?” 

Tetsurou raises an eyebrow without thinking, immediately curious. “Hexes?”

The guy’s pretty brown eyes narrow in what Tetsurou can recognize as annoyance. “Yes. I’m sorry, I thought I said that out loud.” 

Tetsurou tries not to smile, knowing that he shouldn’t be as amused by this bad attitude as he is. Unfortunately, he’s always been a sucker for pretty blonds with bad personalities. 

With startling clarity, he decides that they’re going to be friends. Call it a hunch, or divination, but he knows that this isn’t going to be the last time they meet. 

He doubts this guy is much of a believer, but he’s never been one to turn down a curious customer before, bad attitude or not. The rent for the building isn’t going to pay itself, after all. Plus, he’s pretty sure that if he turned away any could-be witches, his mother would manifest in the store just to pull his ear and give him a long lecture about the dangers of gatekeeping. 

So he tells him, “Well, it depends on how bad the hex is.”

“Let’s say it’s... medium bad,” the guy says through his teeth. 

Tetsurou blinks. He wants to ask for examples, but he knows from experience that most people under hexes aren’t usually the kind of people who are happily talk about their problems. 

“Medium bad… You should start by cleansing your apartment with incense. I’d also definitely recommend a protection spell- I have a candle that would do the trick if you don’t want to make a jar. And a tiger’s eye pendant would help protect you while you’re out and about, I have some hanging over there. They make great necklaces or earrings, depending on what’s more your style.” 

The guy’s face told Tetsurou he’d clearly been rambling for far too long, so Tetsurou decides not to follow him around and make suggestions while the guy peers through his merchandise. Normally, Tetsurou likes to help out and give more advice, but he doesn’t feel like getting his head bitten off today. So he keeps brewing his tea while the man shops, humming softly to the music playing overhead. 

In the end, the beautiful stranger ends up buying the cheapest incense that Tetsurou has, as well as a tiger’s eye necklace with a long chain. When he brings it to the counter, Tetsurou all but shoves his foot in his mouth and says, “It’s cute, like a good luck charm.” 

The guy rolls his eyes so hard that Tetsurou thinks there’s a real chance of them falling right out of his skull. 

“Thanks for your help,” he mutters, refusing to look Tetsurou in the eye. Tetsurou grins at him, then stops, because he can hear Kenma’s voice in his head reminding him that his grins always look a bit more like a leer than a smile. At least Tall, Broody, and Handsome has some manners. 

“Anytime,” he says, handing over the bag. “Come back if it doesn’t seem to be letting up in a few days.” 

The man makes a swift exit for the door. 

“See you around!” Tetsurou calls, though he doubts that the stranger wants to return anytime soon.  

He wishes he’d thought to ask his name.

To everyone’s surprise, he does, in fact, come in several days later. And this time, he isn’t alone. 

Tetsurou is dusting the shelves of crystal balls when he hears the little chime go off to alert him that he has guests. 

The man looks as beautiful as before- except somehow even more so than Tetsurou remembers which is entirely unfair. His short, ruffled curls are flattened a bit now, damp from the rain, but his cheeks are flushed and the black hoodie is doing wonders for his complexion. 

Before he gets caught staring, Tetsurou turns to assess the man’s companion and realizes with a jolt that he actually recognizes him. The hot stranger’s accompaniment is one of his regulars; a man only a year or two younger than him named Yamaguchi. He wouldn’t have pegged the two as friends, but then again, he doesn’t really know anything about Tall, Rude, and Handsome outside of his vibe and the fact that he’s just a little bit rude. 

“I didn’t think I’d see you here again so soon,” Tetsurou says. 

“It wasn’t by choice,” the man sighs. 

“Tsukki, don’t be rude!” Yamaguchi cus in, chiding. 

“Tsukki?” Tetsurou repeats, feeling a wide grin overtaking his features. 

“It’s Tsukishima,” the man snaps, glaring at Yamaguchi, who shrugs apologetically.

“Whatever you say, Tsukki.” 

“So what can I help you with?” Tetsurou asks before they have the chance to go for each other’s throats. 

Yamaguchi sighs. “Tsukki told you that he’s cursed, right?” 

Tetsurou nods. “He mentioned it when he was in here a few days ago, yeah.” 

“Well, it’s not breaking, so I was hoping you would help him make a protection spell to help break it,” Yamaguchi asks. 

“That bad?” Tetsurou asks, intrigued. He glances over at Tsukishima, who stubbornly refuses to meet his eyes. 

“He won’t say it, but he’s worried about it affecting his work this week,” Yamaguchi answers, throwing a worried glance at his friend in the least subtle manner Tetsurou has ever seen. “It’s let up a little, since he got the tiger’s eye, but it doesn’t seem to be completely broken. I made him do an egg test this morning.” 

Yamaguchi pulls out his phone and leans over the counter to show Tetsurou a photo of an egg in water, the yolk sunk to the bottom with the whites pulling upwards towards the top of the glass.

Tetsurou takes one look at it and whistles in morbid appreciation. “That’s strong. Any idea who might be causing it?”

Yamaguchi starts to speak, but is silenced by a sharp look from Tsukishima. “I… It’s not my place to say.” 

“It isn’t,” Tsukishima agrees, finally joining the conversation. “And I’d appreciate it if we kept it that way.” 

“I can help with that,” Tetsurou agrees. “Only if it isn’t a reversal, though.” 

Reversal spells are tricky business, one that he doesn’t particularly  like. Sure, the idea of revenge always sounds fun on paper, but it isn’t good to mess with the balance of the universe like that. His mom always told him that universe would always return to you sevenfold what you put out, so there isn’t any reason to reverse curses yourself. The negative emotions and need for revenge would only cause you more harm in the end. 

Yamaguchi nods solemnly. “Of course not.” 

Tetsurou knew there was a reason he liked this kid. Yamaguchi was curious, but he respected Tetsurou’s knowledge and didn’t often question it without good reason. “In that case, I’d be happy to help you. Tsukishima, I’ll gather the ingredients for you, but you’ll have to assemble everything yourself.” 

“You’re the best, Kuroo!” Yamaguchi all but cheers. Tetsurou can’t help the grin spreading across his lips.

He really does love his job. 

First, he gathers up bay leaves, rosemary, basil, and mint. He’s found that these are his personal favorites for protection spells when it comes to herbs, plus they smell pretty together. He’s certain that that’s just a coincidence, though. As for crystals, he grabs an amethyst, a clear piece of quartz, an onyx, a chunk of tourmaline, and a hefty piece of bloodstone. All protective in their own ways. The jar is only a few inches tall and wide, but big enough to just barely hold everything. 

He hands the jar and a piece of incense to Tsukishima. “You need to cleanse the jar. Think about having positive intentions and letting go of negativity.” 

Tsukishima looks skeptical of his instructions, but takes the items in his hands anyways. Tetsurou lights the incense for him. Tsukishima bites his lip in concentration as he moves the stick of incense in the jar, first counterclockwise, then clockwise. 

After the cleansing, Tsukishima sighs. “What am I even supposed to do with this once it’s all put together?”

“Most people just keep them in their rooms or cars, if they have them. Someplace close to you,” Tetsurou says. 

“You could put it in your gym bag,” Yamaguchi suggests. “That way you won’t have to worry about getting hexed by other players, too!” 

“Other players?” Tetsurou asks. “What do you play?”

“Volleyball,” Tsukishima answers far too glumly for someone who apparently gets to be a professional volleyball player. 

Tetsurou pushes his own personal jealousy away. “Volleyball, huh? I have some friends that play for Division 2, maybe you guys know each other?”

“Maybe,” Tsukishima mutters, turning his attention to the jar. “So I just melt this candle on it?”

Tetsurou nods, shifting back into business mode. “Yeah, you want to seal all of the edges of the lid shut with the wax. Think about your intentions while you do it. Let it know that you want it to protect you.”

Tsukishima looks at him like he’s insane, but Tetsurou pays it no mind. He’s used to skepticism in his line of work (it wasn’t like modern-day witch was a standard occupation), so it doesn’t bother him. It does, however, seem to bother Yamaguchi, because the freckled boy immediately elbows his taller friend in the side. 

“Don’t be rude, Tsukki! Being rude is lame and you know it,” he says.

Tetsurou doesn’t bother to hide his barking laughter from them. 

“Seal the damn jar,” Yamaguchi prompts cheerfully.

They watch in silence as Tsukishima lights the candle. The wax drips slowly as he rotates it around the lid of the jar, his brows furrowed in intense concentration. At least he seems to be taking this part a little seriously. The air seems to chill around them as they all instinctively lean in towards the small candle. 

“It’s sealed,” Tsukishima says after a minute of running wax around the sides of the jar. “Now what?”

“You can burn the rest of it on top of the jar,” Yamaguchi answers, glancing over at Tetsurou for approval. He nods, trying not to feel too high and mighty when Yamaguchi beams at him like a child who just got a question right in class. 

They continue to watch as the candle burns down on the jar and as the air around them lightens with each flicker of the fire. 

A few days after making the protection jar for Tsukishima, Tetsurou is having a perfectly peaceful Thursday. The weather is beautiful; it’s a gorgeous fall day. It’s chilly enough to wear his favorite red sweater, but still forgiving enough that he can wear his nicest ripped jeans without complaint. There was no rain while he was grabbing a coffee from the cute shop on the corner by his store, but an absolute downpour as he opened his own doors for the day. The perfect ambiance for brewing teas and pressing herbs. 

He’s humming to himself in the back of the shop, thinking about how he needs to replace the lightbulbs back here, because it’s dimmer than it usually is and his eyes strain more than they used to when he hears it. 

“Kuroo!” a voice coos from the front of the shop, making Tetsurou want to grab an amethyst to assist with the headache that had just walked into his store. 

Meet Oikawa Tooru: twenty-three, division two professional volleyball player (with prospects to move into division one within the year, a fact that he wouldn’t ever let you forget), and unfortunately a member of Tetsurou’s immediate friend group. Whom he loves dearly, ninety percent of the time, but whose antics he can’t be bothered to deal with right now. 

“I’m back here!” Tetsurou calls, not bothering to stop scritching Turkey Leg behind the ears to go and greet him. As he hears the footsteps approach, he asks, “Did you come to get something, or did you just miss me?” 

Oikawa snorts, squatting down next to him to coo at Turkey Leg. He sighs as Turkey Leg leans into his touch, the little traitor. “Did you know that Bokuto and Akaashi are going on another date tonight? They’re going to the movies.” 

Bokuto Kotaro: Oikawa’s teammate. He also happens to be one of Tetsurou’s best friends from high school. 

Akaashi Keiji: Bokuto’s best friend from high school. And also now his boyfriend, apparently. 

As happy for his friend as Tetsurou is, he isn’t entirely sure why Oikawa is bringing this up now. 

“For the last time, I’m not going to give you a love potion to make Iwaizumi fall in love with you,” he chooses to say rather than question the man’s motives. 

Iwaizumi Hajime: Oikawa’s best friend since childhood. Med student. Possibly the only one in their friend group with any common sense left. 

Oikawa at least has the decency to look scandalized at the accusation. “I know that! Besides, when Iwa-chan finally falls in love with me, it will be because of my beautiful face and amazing personality.”

Tetsurou tries his best not to laugh, really, but he can’t help it. “If we made a drinking game out of every time he insulted you, we would all die of alcohol poisoning.” 

“Rude, Tetsu, rude,” Oikawa sniffs, turning his nose up with a scowl. “You’re just mad because no one loves you.” 

Turkey Leg hisses at them, clearly annoyed for being forgotten about amongst their bickering. Oikawa scoops her up in his arms and cuddles her against his chest. 

“Anyways,” Tetsurou sighs, “What do you want?” 

“I dropped my howlite and it completely shattered. I found a piece of it in my shoe this morning,” Oikawa laments, “But also, fine, I missed you. What’s so wrong about that?” 

Tetsurou is pretty sure that Oikawa chooses his friends carefully and sometimes (most of the time) he doesn’t understand why he made the cut. He was good at volleyball in high school, but he isn’t useful to the man’s career like Bokuto is as his current ace. He isn’t nearly as fun as Hinata and he definitely isn’t as smart as Akaashi. He doesn’t really know what Oikawa wants from him half the time, but he supposes that having a confusing friendship is better than not having one at all. 

Maybe Oikawa isn’t the only one prone to overthinking. 

“Nothing,” he answers, though he isn’t sure he actually believes Oikawa missed him in the slightest. He’s pretty sure the only things that Oikawa has the brainpower to waste object permanence on are volleyball and Iwaizumi Hajime. “But I was saving an amethyst I got in last week for you. And you’re lucky I’m not out of howlite right now, either.”

“Tetsu you are the best!” Oikawa exclaims, hugging Turkey Leg closer with a large smile. Tetsurou wants to roll his eyes at him, but Oikawa’s happiness has always been and probably always will be horribly infectious.

“Yeah, yeah. After I grab it do you want tea?” he asks, because he’s a good friend despite not understanding his friendship with Oikawa in the slightest.  

“Absolutely!” 

So he grabs the amethyst and the howlite and he laughs as Oikawa oohs and awes over it, getting ready to make the tea behind the counter. Oikawa hops onto it to sit beside him as he works, giving inputs on which herbs he thinks would taste good together. He’s kind of terrible at this, though, so Tetsurou doesn’t take much of his advice. 

Oikawa takes minor offense to this and instead huffs and puffs and entertains himself by grabbing a nearby pendulum. 

“Still thinking about your cursed mystery boy?” Oikawa asks coyly after a few minutes of silence, still swinging the pendulum back and forth wildly.  

“No,” Tetsurou lies. He wishes he’d never told Oikawa about it in the first place, but he’d caved and texted him all of two days after meeting Tsukishima for the first time. If anyone knew helpless romance, it was Oikawa. 

Oikawa, unfortunately, knows him better than that. “Liar, liar. At least tell me his name.” 

“And why should I do that?” 

“Because you know practically everything about my miserable love life-”

“Not by choice.”

“-and we’re friends!” 

The teapot starts to whistle. Tetsurou moves it off the burner and glares at Oikawa. “If you say so.”

“Meanie,” Oikawa pouts. “I don’t see the harm in telling me his name.” 

“You know everybody,” Tetsurou points out, turning to grab mugs for the both of them. “Especially people who play volleyball.” 

“He plays volleyball? Ooooh- I mean, I do not. I bet I don’t even know him. Just try me.” Oikawa is pouting at him with his brown eyes all big and puppy-like and Tetsurou wishes his friends weren’t all so attractive and that he wasn’t so damn easy to convince. 

With a long-suffering sigh, Tetsurou gives in. “His name is Tsukishima.”

Oikawa’s mouth falls open and he immediately knows that he’s fucked. “Seriously? Tsukishima as in Tsukishima Kei?”

“Oh my god, you do know him!” Tetsurou accuses, narrowing his eyes at his friend. “You liar, you do know everybody.” 

“Fine, but I really do only know him because he plays volleyball, you dork,” Oikawa says, rolling his eyes. “I’m surprised you don’t know him, he plays on the same team as Koganegawa and Kyotani, Yahaba’s scary boyfriend? But ooooooooh, really, you like him? Oh, he’s cursed! Maybe it’ll be easier to break his blocks now.” 

“I’m trying to help him break his curse, not make it worse, Oikawa,” Tetsurou reminds him, though he doubts that he’s really listening now. 

He pours two cups of tea, passing one over to the bane of his existence. 

“If you say so,” Oikawa hums, blowing on his tea to cool it down. 

Tetsurou signs. “I barely even know him, anyways. He’s just been in here a few times. He’s friends with a regular.” 

“But you keep flirting with him and thinking about how much you want him to stop by, don’t you?” Oikawa teases, making a kissy face at him. 

“I am going to push you off that counter,” Tetsurou deadpans, but they both know it’s an empty threat. 

“Fine,” Oikawa throws his free hand up in surrender. “I’ll relent, but only because this tea is really good.” 

“Kiss ass,” Tetsurou accusses, despite the fact that he does feel a little bit proud of his tea. It does taste good, even if Oikawa is just trying to suck up to him. 

Despite his irritation, he glances over at Oikawa. His friend is swinging his legs despite the fact that he’s twenty-three years old and could probably reach the floor with his long legs if he stretched a little. 

Despite himself, his heart swells with appreciation for their friendship. 

“I still think you should ask him out.” 

The loving feeling evaporates as quickly as it came. 

He sees Yamaguchi the next day. This isn’t a surprise because Yamaguchi was a regular long before Tetsurou had met Tsukishima. 

He isn’t proud of his disappointment when he realizes that Yamaguchi’s come alone this time, but it settles in his chest regardless. 

“Hey, freckles,” Tetsurou greets him with a wide smile. He likes the kid, after all, even if he wishes he’d brought his hot best friend along. “What are you in for today?” 

“Actually, I’m not here to shop today,” Yamaguchi says cryptically, his smile more mischievous than Tetsurou had ever seen it before. 

“Oh?” Tetsurou prompts, raising an eyebrow. “Do tell.” 

The devilish act drops almost instantaneously as Yamaguchi’s expression returns to its normal sheepish state. He glances away for a moment before looking back again, scratching at the back of his neck. “Well, I was actually wondering if you were free tomorrow night? I accidentally bought way too many pumpkins and there’s no way Tsukki and I can carve them all and then I thought it might be fun to invite you.” 

He somehow manages to get all of that out without taking a single breath. Tetsurou is impressed. 

Before he can agree or disagree, though, Yamaguchi’s already big eyes widen comically. “I’m sorry if asking you while you’re working is rude! I promise you can say no and it won’t make me, like, stop coming here or anything-”
 

“It sounds fun,” Tetsurou interrupts him before he can ramble any longer. “What time?”

“Really? We were thinking six!” 

“Cool, I’ll be there,” Tetsurou tells him, trying not to laugh as Yamaguchi beams at him. 

“Sweet! I left all of the pumpkins at Tsukki’s place so I’ll write his address down for you.” 

Tetsurou is never going to trust Yamaguchi again. 

When he knocked on the door at the address Yamaguchi had given him, Tsukishima had opened the door, clearly surprised to see him. 

Tetsurou waved awkwardly. “Hey.” 

“Hey,” Tsukishima says. “Sorry, I didn’t realize you were still coming.” 

“Still?” Tetsurou asks. 

“He’s come down with a sudden case of the flu,” Tsukishima sighs. 

“Oh. I can go-”

“No, it’s fine. He left all the pumpkins here anyways, so we might as well carve one or two of them,” Tsukishima says with all the enthusiasm of a piece of bread. 

He lets Tetsurou into his apartment and Tetsurou’s nerves are telling him that it’s time to fake an illness himself to get out of this. Still, Tsukki is cute, and it isn’t like he has anything better to do tonight.

Yamaguchi is decidedly never getting a discount at the shop again, though. 

Tsukishima’s apartment is surprisingly cute. It’s small, with a combined living room and kitchen space, but that’s to be expected in this part of the city. Knowing the area, it’s probably overpriced as hell, too. In the corner of the main room is an obscenely large stack of pumpkins. Yamaguchi had said that he’d bought a lot, but there’s at least ten pumpkins shoved into the corner of the room. It’s almost impressive. Around them, there’s newspaper covering the floor, so Tetsurou makes a beeline for that part of the room. 

Tsukki rolls a pumpkin towards him across the newspapered floor. It’s one of the larger ones, almost daunting. He hasn’t carved a pumpkin in years. 

He grabs a knife, but he’s paralyzed by indecision. 

Tetsurou can’t decide whether or not his pumpkin should be smiling with little vampire fangs or if he should go for a more Frankenstein vibe, so he decides to ask Tsukishima which he should go with. 

“Hey, Tsukki, what do you thi-” 

“Please don’t call me that,” Tsukishima cuts him off, wrinkling his nose. It’s adorable. 

“Sorry,” Tetsurou apologizes, “I thought you were cool with the nickname.” 

“Just call me Tsukishima. Or Kei,” he groans. “Nobody but Yamaguchi calls me Tsukki anymore. I hate it.” 

“Works for me,” Tetsurou shrugs, “Kei it is.”

Pumpkin carving is surprisingly peaceful after that little hiccup. Tetsurou finds that they get along quite well. He wouldn’t have pegged Kei for someone who could make small talk, but he manages it just fine. Tetsurou actually finds himself enjoying their conversation a lot. Kei is surprisingly funny in a deadpan sort of way. 

It’s going well, except, of course, for when Tetsurou tries to run his big mouth about the genetic makeup of a pumpkin, and Kei can’t seem to wrap his head around the idea that Tetsurou might actually have a brain behind his pretty face. 

“Yeah, ‘cause you know so much about science,” Kei says, rolling his eyes. “Your teas don’t count.”

“I’ll have you know,” Tetsurou says, shaking his carving knife at Kei, indignant, “That I was great at science. Top of the class and all. I even almost went to college to be a chemist. I know things about DNA your tiny little mind can’t even comprehend.” 

Kei’s mouth snaps shut, whether to hold back a laugh or a curse Tetsurou doesn’t know. He doesn’t particularly care, either. “I’m going to throw this pumpkin at you.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

He absolutely would- Tetsurou isn’t expecting it when Kei reaches into his pumpkin, pulls out a large chunk of guts, and hurls it straight at Tetsurou’s head. 

He shrieks, trying to dodge the assault, but it’s too late and there’s pumpkin guts in his hair and splattered on his cheek. “Hey!” 

Kei is wheezing at him; it’s the first time that Tetsurou has seen him laugh. He’s endeared, but not enough to stop from grabbing guts from his own pumpkin and launching them at the man with as much force as he can muster with his right arm. 

Kei doesn’t even attempt to dodge it and they’re both laughing as hard as giddy schoolchildren, so much so that Tetsurou is almost worried that one of them is gonna bust a lung. 

His side is cramping spectacularly by the time they manage to calm down, pumpkin guts covering them both and the floor, with no regard for the newspaper. His one piece of solace is that it’s going to take Kei forever to get it all out of his carpet. The poor bastard.

“I’m so telling Yamaguchi about this,” Tetsurou scolds playfully in between wheezes, “He should have warned me that you’re a fucking heathen.”

“He’ll never believe you,” Kei says cheerfully. 

It goes like this: 

Tetsurou is at a boy’s house, covered in pumpkin guts. The boy is laughing at him and this is the moment that he realizes that he is, in fact, royally screwed. 

Typically, days out with Bokuto and Oikawa are some of Tetsurou’s favorites. He loves spending time with his friends, it’s always a blast with these two. Today, however, is an exception, because they’ve only just sat down with their boba and Oikawa has already decided to be a menace.

“Tsukishima Kei? Hell yeah, I know that guy,” Bokuto says, taking a long slurp of his milk tea. “He’s, like, the best blocker in our conference.” 

“Tetsu has a crush on him,” Oikawa chimes in gleefully. Tetsurou resists the urge to smack the boba out of his hand, but it is so, so tempting.

“I do not,” he lies, but knows it’s pointless. After so many years of friendship, these clowns can look through him nearly as well as Kenma can. “He just came into the shop a few times and then we carved pumpkins together. We only met because his friend thinks he’s cursed.” 

“Probably is,” Oikawa says, despite the fact that his opinion was once again not asked for. By anyone. “There’s probably a hundred different setters who want to curse him, not to mention the spikers!”  

Tetsurou fights the urge to roll his eyes. “Quit being a dick. But, yeah, he’s either cursed or just really unlucky. The egg test pointed to cursed.”  

“Poor guy,” Bokuto sighs, the empathic third of their trio as usual. “Maybe we should invite him out sometime?” 

“Yeah, ‘cause he seems like the kind who’d want to go out drinking with us,” Tetsurou snorts. He can almost picture Tsukishima’s eye roll now. 

“I just texted him. He’s coming to movie night next week,” Oikawa announces. 

Both Tetsurou and Bokuto snap their heads to look at him. 

“You did what?” Tetsurou asks. 

Oikawa shrugs. “I’m a man of action.” 

“How did you even get his phone number?” Bokuto asks, amazed.

“I got it from Hinata,” Oikawa grins his shit eating grin and waves his phone at Tetsurou in such a childlike way that Tetsurou is starting to see red. Maybe he should just strangle Oikawa. He’d probably like it, though, the bastard. “They went to high school together, you know.” 

Instead of leaping across the picnic table and committing a felony, he settles for saying, “I’m telling Iwaizumi everything.” 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Oikawa says in a singsong voice, far too cheerfully for a man whose deepest, darkest secret was on the line, “And besides, we’re all going to be there. It’s not like I’m setting you two up on a blind date. Actually, that’s a good idea, maybe I should-”

“Yeah, Iwaizumi?” Tetsurou cuts in, holding his phone to his ear to give his fake call some credit, “Listen, I think there’s something really important you should know about your bestie-” 

Oikawa lunges for him across the table while Bokuto howls with laughter in the background.

Rain is falling and there’s a sharp pang in the depths of Tetsurou’s chest every time a droplet hits his cheeks. He pulls his hood tighter around his face and keeps walking, trying to resist the strange and sudden wetness of his eyes. 

He blames it on the rain but he feels foolish anyways. He doesn’t know what’s brought this melancholy out of him, but he doesn’t like it. Still, it isn’t entirely unusual, as he vaguely remembers feeling a similar sadness last fall, and the fall before that. And yet, it still takes him by surprise now. 

He knows, in a way, that it’s from the route he’s taking home. He’d decided to take the long way before it started raining, the roads that pass by Nekoma High School. Truthfully, there aren’t many things he genuinely misses about high school, but one wrong turn and he would have been passing the volleyball gym. If he strains his ears, he thinks he can still hear the sounds of practice even now, despite being two blocks away. He knows it’s his imagination, but it sounds so real. 

Tetsurou knows that his life is better now- he does. He loves taking care of the shop and he loves living with Kenma and he loves his neighborhood volleyball games. He’s happier now- he is. But, sometimes, on rainy days such as this, he thinks that there isn’t anything he wouldn’t give to stand in that gym just one more time and to feel like he truly belongs there. To practice with his old team. To make Yaku mad at his sloppy serves, to tease Lev for his poor skills. Yaku, who was playing in Russia now. Lev, who was taking his college team to all kinds of tournaments this year. All of them, scattered across Japan, across the globe, never to be the same as they once were. No longer teammates, but still aching for that connection they once had. 

Tetsurou wonders, for just a moment, if they think of him. 

As if on cue, he hears a voice calling out to him in the downpour. He turns and sees that it isn’t one of his old classmates summoned by his depressing mood, but instead it’s Kei, running up to him with an umbrella in hand.

It’s green, with little frog eyes on top. It’s cute. 

“What are you doing out here?” Kei asks, sharply, like he’s snapping at him. It seems like Kei is usually snapping at him, and normally Tetsurou is into that, but today he just feels tired. 

“Picked the wrong day to take the long way home,” he sighs. 

“You’re going to catch a cold,” Kei scolds, moving in closer to cover Tetsurou with his umbrella. Tetsurou doesn’t have the heart right now to even be thrilled about the closeness. “I live right around here, come wait inside for the storm to pass.” 

Tetsurou already knows that; he was just there for pumpkin carving not that long ago. He doesn’t point this out, though, and instead just agrees to go, because he doesn’t have anything better to do and despite his melancholy, he realizes that he still does want to spend time with Kei. It’s strange, considering that they’ve only known each other a handful of weeks, but he wants his company even in his current sorry state. 

“Thanks,” he murmurs. 

They huddle together on the walk, pressed side to side as they desperately try to share the umbrella. Tetsurou doesn’t see the point of it, considering he’s soaking wet already from walking around in the storm like a fool, but Kei insists on covering him as much as possible. In the back of his mind, Tetsurou remembers to be thankful.

Kei wasn’t lying when he said that his apartment was nearby; they only have to walk a handful of blocks to reach the building. It really is so close to the school that it makes Tetsurou want to laugh in a sad way, for reasons he can’t name. 

“I’m grabbing you a change of clothes,” Kei declares as he shakes off his umbrella, the apartment door swinging closed behind him. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Tetsurou shakes his head. His hair is flattened to his forehead, water dripping into his eyes. 

Kei looks at him like he shot his dog. “Are you kidding? You’ll destroy my couch and then I’ll have to kill you, if pneumonia doesn’t get to you first.” 

He gets Tetsurou a large sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants and Tetsurou gratefully changes in the bathroom. He didn’t realize how cold he actually was until he was finally in warm, dry clothes again. He’s glad that Kei insisted, even if he feels a little foolish for getting caught in the downpour. 

The sweatshirt smells like vanilla and lavender. It’s cozy. 

When he returns to the living room, Kei is in the kitchen, digging out two mugs. He’s also changed out of his wet clothes and into a similar ensemble. He looks like he’s just walked out of an athleisure ad. His hoodie has a little print of the moon on it. 

The mugs he pulls out are a matching set. They’re green, with little black dinosaur silhouettes painted on them. They’re so cute that they kind of make Tetsurou want to cry.  

Tetsurou takes a seat at the bar, resisting the urge to lay his head on it. 

“What kind of tea do you want?” Kei asks. “I have peppermint and cinnamon apple.” 

“Cinnamon apple,” Tetsurou responds. 

“Good choice,” Kei says, inspecting the two boxes of storebrand tea carefully, “I think the peppermint expired like a month ago.” 

Tetsurou wrinkles his nose. “Gross.”

“Yeah, no wonder it tasted bad last week,” Kei sighs, throwing the box in the trash. 

Tetsurou laughs at him unapologetically and Kei threatens to throw a mug at him, and Tetsurou realizes that he’s starting to feel a little bit more like himself. 

When the threats finally die down, with no mugs harmed in the process, Kei shakes his head, looking like he’s trying not to sigh again. 

“So,” he starts, “are you going to tell me what you were doing wandering around in a thunderstorm?” 

“I was on my way home,” Tetsurou says, “Sort of.” 

Kei’s expression says that he doesn’t believe him whatsoever, even if it isn’t technically a lie. 

Tetsurou sighs, shrugging. “I got a little lost on memory lane. I didn’t think it was going to rain on my way home, so I wandered over to my old high school.” 

Kei stares at him. 

Tetsurou doesn’t know what he wants from him. Why does he want to know, anyways? He doesn’t even know if they’re really friends; they’ve only met a handful of times. 

Still, looking into Kei’s amber eyes, he feels like he’s known him for an eternity. 

So he asks, “Do you ever feel like you’ve made all the wrong choices with your life, even if everything’s fine? Great, even?” 

Kei hesitates. Tetsurou can almost see the walls he’s putting up, the steely look in his eyes as he debates his answer. He wants to tell him not to bother, but he’s not in the habit of telling cursed boys how to live their lives. 

It isn’t fair, really, considering he’d been more than happy to ask Tetsurou about his problems, but hesitates to do him the favor of giving answers, too. 

Finally, after an eternity, Kei answers, “Sometimes. When I first decided to play volleyball instead of going to college, I felt like that all the time.” 

Tetsurou wants to ask him to elaborate. He doesn’t want to push his luck, though, after being given this little piece of Kei. After being trusted with the answer, he doesn’t want to ask for more. 

Except he really, really does. 

“I mostly felt like that when I took over the shop,” he tells him instead of pressing for more. “I thought I was past it.” 

The kettle starts to scream on the stovetop. 

Kei moves like lightning to turn it off, pouty lips downturned. “Sorry. I hate that sound.” 

“I don’t think anyone finds it pleasant,” Tetsurou points out, laughing for the second time that evening as Kei rolls his eyes at him. 

“Hey, what would you do if you didn’t play volleyball professionally?” Tetsurou asks as Kei pours the boiling water into the two mugs.  

Kei drops the teabags in, thinking for a moment. “I wanted to be a paleontologist when I was younger. Or an astronaut.” 

“Nerd,” Tetsurou snorts. 

“I don’t have to take this from someone who almost went to school for chemistry, you know,” Kei snaps, but it lacks his usual bite. 

Tetsurou feels his head tilt. “You remembered?” 

Kei stares at him. “Obviously? I said it, didn’t I?” 

“You’re an ass,” Tetsurou scolds, wagging a finger at him. “And here I was about to tell you how cute it is that you remembered.” 

Kei sets a mug on the counter and slides it over. A little tea sloshes over the side. Tetsurou barely notices it, though, because he’s too busy staring in awe at the way Kei’s pale cheeks are turning pink. 

“It’s nothing,” he mutters. “I have a good memory.” 

Tetsurou is struck with the realization that he kind of wants to kiss him. Like a lot. 

“Whatever you say,” he teases, picking up his mug and following Kei to sit on the couch, “You could just admit that you like me.” 

“You’re alright,” Kei says, taking a sip of his tea. He grimaces, definitely having just burnt the everloving shit out of his tongue. It’s barely since a minute since the water was boiling. 

“You too,” Tetsurou says cheerfully. 

Kei doesn’t feel the need to say anything to that, apparently, so they lapse into an easy silence that, for probably the first time in his life, Tetsurou doesn’t feel the need to fill. 

The couch is comfortable, the mug warm in his hands. As he’s holding it, he can’t help but wonder what it would be like to hold Kei’s hands. 

He blows on his tea, hoping it will cool down soon. He belatedly also hopes that it isn’t expired. 

He sees the protection candle sitting on Kei’s end table. It’s halfway burned through, which makes him smile softly. He’s glad that it, for the most part, seems to be working. 

Kei catches him looking at it and picks it up. “It… smells nice.” 

“One of the many perks,” Tetsurou laughs, taking a sip of his tea. Thankfully, it doesn’t taste rancid. It isn’t bad, even if he is a little bit of a snob towards store bought. “Remind me to give you some tea the next time you’re at the shop. To repay the favor.” 

Kei looks away. “It isn’t a big deal. You would have caught a cold if you were out there much longer. I’m not that mean.” 

Tetsurou wonders who told him that he was. Probably whoever it was that cursed him. “Well, either way, thanks.” 

He glances down at the mug in his hands, struck again by how cute it is. “I can’t believe you were a dinosaur kid.” 

“I don’t get why that’s so surprising,” Kei pouts defensively. “Dinosaurs are cool.” 

“They are,” Tetsurou agrees. “It’s just… cute.” 

Kei blinks at him. His cheeks are turning pink again. Tetsurou marvels at the fact that he can make him blush like that. It feels like a blessing of the highest order. “Well what were you into as a kid?” 

“Guess,” Tetsurou grins. 

Kei thinks about it for a moment, before deciding on, “I bet you were a rock kid.” 

“Bingo,” Tetsurou laughs. “It’s my mom’s fault, though. She got me started on crystals when I was a baby. But all rocks are cool rocks, even the ugly ones.”

“If you really liked rocks you wouldn’t think any of them are ugly,” Kei counteracts pointedly. 

“Bullshit,” Tetsurou sniffs indignantly. “Just like there’s such a thing as lame dinosaurs.” 

“There is not!” Kei responds like Tetsurou has just slapped his grandmother. 

“Is too!” he argues back childishly, “Like those freaky little chicken ones at the beginning of the second Jurassic Park movie? Those creepy little freaks?” 

“The compsognathus?” Kei gasps at him. “They are not freaks!” 

Tetsurou can’t help but laugh at his offended expression, practically to the point of tears. Kei still has the offended look on his face like Tetsurou has committed the darkest of sins. He wags his mug at Tetsurou like that’ll help prove his point, but all he succeeds in doing is spilling tea on the couch. He doesn’t even seem to notice it. 

“I can’t,” Tetsurou is having a hard time speaking through his wheezing laugh, “You’re ridiculous.”

“They’re cool!” 

“I believe you!” Tetsurou lies; his side is starting to ache from laughing so hard as he tries to keep his tea from spilling everywhere. “I swear I do!” 

“Liar,” Kei practically spits at him. He finally seems to notice the new tea stains on his couch, frowning even harder. “Oh, my couch.” 

Tetsurou breaks out into howls of laughter all over again. 

Conversation is easy between them after that, with Tetsurou doing his best not to insult any more dinosaurs in the process. They talk about everything they can think of, starting with the topic of childhood interests, which leads to volleyball talk, which leads into a debate of why blocking is so much cooler than spiking, except that it really isn’t much of a debate considering they share the same point of view. 

Tetsurou finds out that the froggy umbrella from earlier was a gift from Yamaguchi that Kei received after being drafted into the Sendai Frogs. He kept it out of love for his friend, even if he feels stupid carrying it around. 

He tells Kei about how he’d originally wanted to be a chemist because he thought that it just meant he could legally blow stuff up. Kei laughs at him for that, but it isn’t malicious. 

He learns that Kei broke his arm in elementary school falling out of a jungle gym but didn’t want to tell anyone because he thought that breaking bones wouldn’t make him cool. Luckily for him, Yamaguchi had fainted when he saw how Kei’s arm was bending the wrong way. Kei mimicked the panicked look his friend had made and Tetsurou’s heart jumped in his chest beautifully. 

The way Kei describes his friendship with Yamaguchi is sweet. It reminds Tetsurou of the relationship he has with Kenma. 

Tetsurou is pretty sure that he’s doomed, though. He’s enjoying their conversation and the coziness of Kei’s apartment and the warmth of his borrowed clothes, but he can’t stop thinking that he really, really wants to lean over and kiss him. 

He wonders if his lips would taste like the cinnamon apple tea. 

He can’t shake the thought from his head. 

“Thank you for letting me crash here,” he eventually says. Tetsurou knows that he’s repeating himself, but he really is grateful; he probably would have stayed in that foul mood for the rest of the evening if Kei hadn’t found him wandering around Nekoma’s campus like a stray dog. 

“I already told you that it isn’t a big deal,” Kei insists for the second time that night. 

Tetsurou decides, foolishly he might add, to push his luck. “I know, but I still appreciate it. I like spending time with you, you know.”

He watches as his luck backfires in his face in slow motion. 

“I think the rain stopped,” Kei says suddenly, shooting off the couch like Tetsurou had just set him on fire. “You should go, I have to be up early tomorrow.” 

Tetsurou, confused and honestly a little hurt at the abrupt dismissal, frowns. He wants to point out that it’s only 7 pm. 

“Kei,” he starts, but he’s cut off before he can even apologize. 

“You can keep the clothes for now. I’ll see you around.”

Well, Tetsurou knows when he isn’t wanted. So he stands, keeping his chin up as Kei refuses to meet his eyes. “Thanks.” 

He knows he sounds kurt, but he can’t help the way his stomach is twisting into knots. He doesn’t know why Kei is suddenly retreating back behind his walls like this; he doesn’t even know what he did wrong. 

“I’ll see you around,” Kei says. 

Tetsurou isn’t sure he believes that. 

Kei doesn’t come by the store for the rest of the week. 

Tetsurou wants to text him and ask what he did wrong. He writes the message more times than is probably healthy, but he can never bring himself to hit the button to actually send it. He tells himself that it isn’t his concern if Kei doesn’t want to see him. He isn’t going to force Kei to spend time with him. 

Still, it feels like there’s a hole carved out of his chest. 

When Oikawa had invited Kei to movie night, he had apparently told him to arrive half an hour before the other guests.  

So when Tetsurou had opened the door, still in his pajamas, to see Kei on his doorstep, his poor heart had definitely stopped in his chest. 

In all honesty, after the weird end to their evening last week, he’d sort of forgotten that Kei was coming to movie night at all.  

Kei, to his credit, had already looked bored when he lazily raised a hand in greeting and said, “Hey.” 

Now, sitting together in the living room, Tetsurou is thinking about how badly he wants to wring Oikawa’s neck the moment he walks through the door. He can’t stop thinking about how Kei had retreated into himself the other night, about the distant look in his eyes when he’d wished Tetsurou a goodnight. 

He longs for the short time before Kei had put his walls back up- he longs to ask why he won’t let Tetsurou in. 

He wishes they weren’t alone. He wishes his friends would show up early or that Kenma hadn’t decided to go to Hinata’s at the last minute.

Kei’s clothes from that night are still sitting in his laundry basket.

He wishes he could reach out and hold Kei’s hand and look into his eyes without feeling like he was drowning. 

The candle on the coffee table is flickering wildly, filling the room with the smell of pumpkin and other harvest spices. It’s Tetsurou’s favorite scent. 

His favorite blanket is lazily thrown over Kei’s lap. In the candlelight, he looks like he belongs here. 

To stop himself from blurting out anything of the sort, Tetsurou sips his tea. He wishes he’d let it steep longer; it still tastes like plain hot water. 

“How did you meet everyone?” Kei suddenly asks, interrupting their long suffering silence. He’s fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie, a far-off look in his eyes as he stares past Tetsurou. 

Tetsurou blinks. He isn’t used to Kei speaking first. “Well… Bokuto and I went to middle school together. Since we both played volleyball, we kept in touch throughout high school. He met Oikawa when they got drafted onto the same professional team and he somehow got past his terrible personality fast enough to decide that they should be friends… and with the two of them, Akaashi and Iwaizumi are sort of a package deal. Which is fine, because they’re the sane ones, anyway. How did you meet them?”

“I met them in high school,” is all Kei says. 

“Strange that we never crossed paths until now,” Tetsurou says. 

Kei snorts, finally looking at him. “You wouldn’t have liked me in high school.” 

Tetsurou starts to grin. “Oh, really? Why not?”

“I wasn’t very… personable,” Kei shrugs. 

Tetsurou actually laughs at that. “Because you’re such a people person now?”

Kei glares at him. “It was worse back then.”

“Hard to imagine,” Tetsurou hums. “But you’re not very personable now and I like you plenty, so I think we would have gotten along just fine.”

Kei is looking at him like he’s grown a second head. 

Tetsurou frowns. “What?” 

He doesn’t get to know, though, because there’s a loud, obnoxious knocking on the door. 

Tetsurou gets up to open it, grinning when he sees Bokuto on the other side with a grocery bag full of snacks. 

“Hey hey hey!” he greets them, giving Tetsurou a half-hug on his way into the apartment. “Hey, Tsuki-poo!” 

Kei grimaces. “For the love of God, please stop calling me that.” 

“No way, Tsuki-poo!” Bokuto answers with a laugh, throwing the bag of snacks onto the coffee table. He narrowly avoids knocking the candle over. “Anyone else here yet?” 

“Nope. Where’s Akaashi?” Tetsurou asks. He’s surprised they didn’t arrive together, considering they were joined at the hip long before they’d started dating. 

“Got held up at work,” Bokuto groans, throwing himself onto the couch in between Tetsurou and Kei. “One of the authors turned in a chapter super late so now he’s stuck scrambling to edit it last minute.” 

Akaashi is in his second year of college, but he’s also interning for a major manga publisher, so this sort of thing isn’t anything out of the ordinary. 

“Well, I hope he can make it for at least one movie.” 

“He better,” Bokuto sighs, “we’ve already canceled one date this week because of his job, I’d hate for him to miss movie night, too. He’s a worse workaholic than Oikawa.” 

Tetsurou kind of doubts this, considering Oikawa’s work ethic is both freakish and at times self-destructive. He’d heard from Iwaizumi that he’d actually injured himself more than once from overworking himself during practice in his high school years. Still, he’s probably not the only one out there without common sense, so he tries not to doubt Bokuto too much. 

As if summoned by Tetsurou’s inner musings, the front door of his apartment opens and reveals none other than Oikawa himself, who has never had a problem with letting himself into other people’s apartments. 

“Speak of the devil,” Kei mutters. 

“Yoohoo, look who’s here!” Oikawa practically struts through the door, followed closely by an annoyed-looking Iwaizumi. 

“Did you guys hear that?” Tetsurou asks, looking from Bokuto to Kei. 

Bokuto, suddenly deathly serious, shakes his head. “I didn’t hear anything.” 

Kei’s lips twitch in what Tetsurou swears is almost a smile. “Not a peep.” 

“You guys are the worst!” Oikawa whines, throwing himself onto the couch on top of them, draping himself across their legs like a dramatic Victorian lady. 

“Get off me!” Tetsurou laughs, trying to shove him off with no success. 

It’s going to be a long night. 

After much debate, they end up deciding to watch Pacific Rim, because Oikawa always wants them to watch Pacific Rim, and luckily for him, Kei has never seen it before. 

They all squeeze onto the couch except for Bokuto, who opts to sit on the floor so Oikawa can play with his hair while the movie plays. 

Akaashi shows up about halfway through the film. There’s a minor debate about whether or not they should start it over for him, but in the end they decide not to bother, because Oikawa has already made them all watch this movie at least three times each. 

They put on an old Disney film after the credits roll, which is how Tetsurou knows that they’re all going to be sleeping over that night; none of them ever manage to make it through these movies without passing out halfway through. Himself included, of course. 

A few minutes in, as the poor hunchback is lamenting his cathedral prison, Tetsurou stretches and moves to get off the couch. He should get the dishes into the sink before Kenma gets home, if they end up coming home from Hinata’s tonight. He doesn’t want them to have to clean up after his party. He collects the glasses as quietly as he can- he’s pretty sure Oikawa has already passed out- but there’s a few he can’t fit in his hands, so he resolves to leave them and come back. 

He yawns as he puts the dishes in the sink. He should go ahead and wash them now, but his limbs feel weighed down, and he thinks that maybe leaving them for tomorrow wouldn’t be so bad after all. 

The kitchen light bulb needs replacing, so there’s little light besides it’s dim flicker and the tv leaking in from the living room, giving the small kitchen an added layer of cozy. 

He hears light footsteps behind him and glances over his shoulder to see Kei carrying the remaining few glasses that he’d left behind. Tetsurou hadn’t checked to see if he was still awake or not. 

“I can handle cleaning up,” he says. There really aren’t that many dishes since they shared a popcorn bowl and frankly he’s planning on leaving the majority of the work for the next morning now anyways. “You should go watch the movie.” 

Kei snorts and turns the sink on despite this and starts washing glasses. “I think I can handle missing a few minutes.” 

“Thanks,” Tetsurou tries to say, but it mostly comes out as a yawn. 

Kei just shrugs and keeps washing the dishes. Tetsurou isn’t sure what to say to him next.

“I’m sorry,” Kei says, interrupting the silence before Tetsurou has a chance to, “About the other day… I shouldn’t have rushed you out like that. It was rude.” 

“I can’t say it didn’t hurt my feelings a little,” Tetsurou replies, trying to laugh it off. Kei doesn’t laugh with him, though, so he adds, “But it’s okay. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome.” 

“You didn’t,” Kei quickly says. “It was just, when you said that you liked spending time with me…” 

He trails off and Tetsurou stares at him, waiting for him to go on.  

“You know that I’m not great with people,” Kei sighs. “People usually get sick of me eventually. Usually they say something like that before it happens. Like they’re reminding themself. It’s stupid, but I just… got worried that you would, too.” 

He looks so vulnerable in the dim lighting, hunched over the sink and pointedly not making eye contact as he washes the dishes. Tetsurou aches to wrap his arms around him. 

“It’s not stupid,” Tetsurou says, stepping closer. He pauses when Kei freezes at the sink. His hands feel both heavy and empty at once. How desperately he longs to reach out to him. “I get it. But you don’t need to worry. I plan to keep annoying you for as long as you let me.” 

Kei sighs. He looks so tired. 

For the first time, Tetsurou wonders if he accidentally cursed himself. He seems to only expect the worst of the world and those around him, so maybe he attracted it to himself. It wouldn’t be unheard of. 

He shakes the idea from his mind- it’s not his place to speculate like that. 

“You aren’t,” Kei says, “annoying me.”

Tetsurou’s heart leaps in his throat. “Oh.”

“The dishes are done,” Kei says abruptly, drying his hands with speed. “Forget I said anything. Let’s finish the movie.” 

Tetsurou has no choice but to follow him back to the living room. The scene is mostly unchanged from how they left it; Oikawa is snoring against Iwaizumi’s chest, while Iwaizumi seems to have wrapped his arms around him in his sleep. Bokuto has fallen asleep with his head in Akaashi’s lap, while Akaashi plays with his hair. Akaashi glances up and meets Tetsurou’s eyes, offering him a small, but happy, smile. 

There’s a dangerous jolt of jealousy twisting in Tetsurou’s heart, pulling the pit of his stomach up through his throat. For a moment he longs for what they have, the comfort they find in another person, in love. 

He returns Akaashi’s smile. He tries to tell himself that he isn’t that jealous. He’s perfectly fine. 

He sits next to Kei on the couch, with the little room they have left now that Oikawa and Iwaizumi are acting like they own the place. He tries not to be hyper-aware of how Kei’s side is pressed against his, but it’s impossible for his mind to ignore; it feels like he’s being set on fire, but in a comforting way. The weight feels familiar, calming. 

A few more minutes into the movie and he’s startled by the feeling of Kei’s head resting on his shoulder. He’s snoring softly, just loud enough for Tetsurou to realize that he’s fallen asleep. He doesn’t blame him; the couch is comfortable and warm, and he feels like he could also fall asleep at any given moment. 

Still, he wants to stay awake, wants to savor the warmth of Kei’s trust in him, wants to enjoy the fact that Kei trusts him enough to feel comfortable using him as a pillow for just a little longer. But the night isn’t getting any younger and it’s long past Tetsurou’s usual bedtime. God, he’s getting old. 

Finally, he stops fighting his tired eyes and lets himself rest his head on Kei’s, letting himself enjoy the company as the movie plays softly in his ears. It’s a perfect lullaby. 

When he wakes up the next morning, his neck stiff and painful, and Kei is gone. Tetsurou tries not to feel too disappointed. 

After movie night, he isn’t surprised when Kei asks him if he wants to get dinner together a few nights later. He isn’t surprised when he says yes. He isn’t surprised the next day, when he asks Kei if he wants to get coffee before he opens the shop and he gets to show him the coffeeshop on the corner of the block. He isn’t surprised when Kei stops by the shop several times just to keep his curse in check. 

(“I stubbed my toe on my coffee table this morning,” Kei groans pitifully. “The curse is stronger than ever. What do you have for that?”) 

Tsukishima Kei is well on his way into cementing himself into Tetsurou’s life. 

It feels entirely natural, but the pounding in his heart doesn’t seem to be going away. He’s just as hopeless as he was that first day when he ran into him in the cemetery, desperately wanting to know why the connection between them is so strong. 

He isn’t surprised when Kei shows up on his doorstep, entirely unannounced on a Thursday night. His eyes are red, but Tetsurou doesn’t ask. Instead, he silently lets him into his apartment and goes to turn the kettle on. 

Kei sits on his couch with his knees pulled up to his chest, looking so small in his collapsed pose. 

“Is Kenma home?” he asks. 

Tetsurou shakes his head from the kitchen, though he doesn’t think Kei sees him. “They’re staying over at Hinata’s again. This game they both really like is releasing at midnight.” 

“Oh,” is all Kei says. 

Tetsurou doesn’t know what to say to him. 

“I’m sorry,” Kei says, so quietly that Tetsurou isn’t sure that he heard him right. 

“For what?” he asks, pouring the boiling water into their mugs. 

“For showing up unannounced,” Kei sighs, looking away from him. Like it matters. “I don’t even know why I came here.” 

“Because I have the best tea,” Tetsurou tries for humor, more for himself than for Kei if he’s being honest. He doesn’t think he’s ever been great at cheering people up, but he hasn’t ever regretted it this much before. Especially since Kei doesn’t seem like he’s going to tell him what’s wrong in the first place. “And I’m a great listener.” 

Kei purses his lips. “I don’t have anything to talk about. Practice was just… hard.” 

“Hard?” Tetsurou repeats. 

Kei nods. “We have a new recruit. He’s insane- he reminds me a lot of Hinata.” 

Tetsurou can guess where he’s going with this. 

“It’s fine,” Kei continues, “I’m not sixteen anymore. I worked hard to be where I am. Freaks of nature happen all the time. That doesn’t make me any worse at volleyball.” 

He says it like he’s repeating an affirmation. 

“Well said,” Tetsurou says, pouring the tea for them. 

He hands one of the mugs to Kei, who takes it with a soft thanks. 

“You should come play with me sometimes,” Tetsurou says, “I was a middle blocker back in my day, after all.” 

“I know,” Kei says. “I used to watch Nekoma’s games at tournaments. I learned a lot from watching you play.” 

Tetsurou can feel his eyes widen comically. “Really?” 

“Pretend I didn’t tell you that,” Kei groans, burying his face in his hands. “It’s embarrassing.” 

“It’s adorable ,” Tetsurou coos. “I can’t believe you’ve known me since high school and didn’t tell me!” 

“It was just a coincidence,” Kei shakes his head, “I didn’t even realize it was you until you came over to carve Yamaguchi’s pumpkins. You were wearing a Nekoma hoodie and it clicked.” 

“It’s still cute.” 

“I hate you,” Kei mutters, but Tetsurou knows he doesn’t mean it. 

“And you owe your volleyball career to me,” Tetsurou laughs. 

Kei, deadly serious, says, “Possibly. Seeing your umbrella block from afar really helped put it into perspective.” 

Tetsurou can’t help the shiteating grin spreading across his lips. 

“Do not,” Kei scolds, “get a big head over this.” 

“You’re such a buzzkill,” Tetsurou playfully groans, rolling his eyes. 

“I am not,” Kei argues, “You just have an ego the size of Jupiter.” 

In response to that, Tetsurou throws himself onto the couch with so much drama that it would have made Oikawa proud. 

“Come lay down with me,” Tetsurou whines, waving his arms like a child begging for attention. Belatedly, he realizes that his tea is still sitting on the counter. “You wounded my big-headed feelings.”

“There is not enough room for both of us,” Kei points out. “And that doesn’t even make sense.” 

“Not true,” Tetsurou argues. “There’s plenty of room and I make a lot of sense. All of the time.”

Kei snorts, then promptly throws himself down on top of him. Tetsurou lets out a loud oof , but Kei is laughing and Tetsurou is suddenly very, very overwhelmed by the feeling of his body shaking over him. “I told you.” 

“Nope, this is perfect,” Tetsurou says.

“You’re a dork,” Kei mutters, but his face is pressed in between Tetsurou’s shoulder and the couch, so it’s a little muffled. 

Tetsurou tentatively wraps his arms around him. Kei doesn’t seem to mind. 

Tetsurou can’t remember the last time he felt this warm and cozy. He feels safe. 

“I’m glad you came by,” Tetsurou says softly. 

He doesn’t think he’s imagining it when he hears Kei murmur, “Me too.”

The club had been, as all bad ideas were, Oikawa’s idea. 

Inviting Kei had been Tetsurou’s, to everyone’s surprise. It shouldn’t have been, though, because he’s gotten into the habit of inviting Kei to everything lately. 

The shots are also Oikawa’s idea, and there isn’t enough common sense in the world to stop Tetsurou from taking one and cheering as the burning sensation destroys his throat. 

And then, of course, there’s dancing.

Out of the group of five, three are professional athletes. All of them keep in relatively good shape. Unfortunately, all of that coordination does not save them when it comes to busting moves on the dance floor. 

Akaashi is surprisingly the only one with any semblance of a sense of rhythm and he couldn’t even make it tonight. 

That doesn’t lead them to having more fun than they probably should on the dancefloor, moving around like a group of fools and hyping each other up with each terrible, terrible ass shake. 

Even Kei is getting in on the fun, although it takes a couple shots of vodka and a lot of peer pressure before he starts to loosen up around them. Bokuto practically shrieks with joy the first time Kei dances in a way that isn’t just bobbing along to the music. Oikawa cheers while Iwaizumi tries to smack him upside the head, but misses spectacularly, because he’s just as gone as the rest of them. 

“You guys are ridiculous!” Kei attempts to shout, but the loud pop music drowns out the sound of his voice. He shakes his head, but anyone can see that he’s smiling. 

The DJ throws a slower song at them and everyone on the floor audibly groans. It isn’t unsimilar to being at a boring school dance, forced to slow dance when absolutely no one wants to.

Tetsurou is fully prepared to go kill the time getting another drink at the bar, but as he turns to go, he feels a hand grab his. 

Kei is looking at him, uncertainty plain on his face, and Tetsurou hears him say, “Dance with me?” 

He’s pretty sure he’s having an out-of-body experience, because he hears himself say, “Okay,” but can’t feel his mouth moving to say it. 

Kei takes his other hand as they begin to sway slowly to the music. It’s an older song, a weird choice for this scene. Tetsurou is thankful for it, though, because he gets to hold both of Kei’s hands in his without overthinking it. 

Kei isn’t much of a better dancer than he is, so it’s inevitable when Tetsurou steps on one of his feet. It doesn’t seem to phase him, though, so they both discreetly pretend that it didn’t happen. 

Tetsurou should probably be savoring this moment, but he can’t stay focused. He can’t stop his mind from wandering to the others, to the lyrics of the song, to the fact that he very suddenly needs to use the bathroom. 

He’s screaming at himself in his mind, but he can’t keep his attention on the dance or his dance partner. 

The song ends uneventfully, with a weight settling in Tetsurou’s chest. He feels like he’s missing something. 

“I… need to pee,” Tetsurou says lamely. 

“Okay?” 

He manages to make it to the bathroom without making a fool of himself, but his luck probably won’t last much longer than that. 

There’s three of him staring back at him in the bathroom mirror, so he splashes some cold water on his face, hoping it sobers him up at least a little bit. He doesn’t drink nearly as often as he used to these days, so it’s been awhile since he was this far gone. He still feels relatively in control, but his reflexes tell him otherwise. 

Still, he takes a deep breath and makes his way back out of the bathroom. 

The music is still pounding and so are Tetsurou’s ears. He still feels lightheaded, off balance as he stumbles through the hallway. 

A hand catches his shoulder and he makes a move to swing his elbow, but it’s caught and he hears a now familiar voice saying, “Easy, it’s just me.” 

“Kei,” Tetsurou breathes, turning to face him with a goofy smile. Looking at him in this shitty nightclub lighting feels as magical as it would if he were looking at a full moon. Ethereal. “Where’d you come from?” 

“I was trying to find you,” Tsukishima answers. “Bokuto was worried you’d gotten lost.” 

“On the way back from the bathroom? He has no faith in me.” 

“Well, did you?” 

Tetsurou frowns at that, because he doesn’t have a good answer. He wasn’t lost, per se, but he wasn’t exactly speeding to get back to his friends either. “No.” 

Kei chuckles softly and Tetsurou’s heart stops. 

He loves the sound of Kei’s laugh- beautiful, but rough around the edges. Like Kei. 

Without thinking, Tetsurou leans in closer and Kei does, too. 

He takes a sharp breath. 

He’s going to kiss me , he thinks.

Except he doesn’t. Instead, Kei pulls away from him, letting his hand fall off his shoulder.  

It hurts immediately, like a hand reaching into his chest and squeezing. For a second, he can’t breathe and he’s already telling himself to pull him together because this is stupid- this isn’t rejection, this is bad timing. This isn’t rejection. 

It isn’t rejection, but Tetsurou is too drunk for his own good, so it sure feels like it is. 

He hears Bokuto’s voice behind him- where did he come from?- but doesn’t process a word he says. 

“Huh?” 

“I said!” Bokuto exclaims, waving his arms like a madman and speaking a million miles a minute, “That you guys need to come quick! Some guy picked a fight with Oikawa and he and Iwaizumi both got thrown out of the club, we gotta go find them!” 

They barrel their way out of the club as quickly as three relatively drunk people can, holding onto each other’s hands to avoid getting separated. Both Kei and Bokuto’s hands feel like anchors in his and Tetsurou holds onto both of them for dear life as they push their way through the mass of bodies on the dancefloor. 

When they finally make it outside, the air is cool and the wind is rustling through the autumn leaves and their urgency leaves them when they become enveloped in the fresh air, Tetsurou is humming to the tune of an old song as Bokuto loudly makes a joke and- 

And, to everyone’s clear surprise, Kei is laughing, so loud in his ear and his arm is around Tetsurou’s shoulder and there’s a tightness in his chest that’s on the verge of bursting, but it gets tighter and tighter and god, Tetsurou thinks, I want this forever.

They’re quick to find Oikawa and Iwaizumi; after all, it’s hard to miss them shouting at each other in the street less than a block away. Their urgency is restored as the three of them remember why they’re out here in the first place and sprint haphazardly towards the sound of the commotion. 

Before he can be bothered to listen in on their argument, Tetsurou mentally does a quick damage assessment. Iwaizumi is holding his fist with a pale face and there’s blood rushing out of Oikawa’s nose and finding a new home on his sweater. For a moment, Tetsurou wonders if it was Iwaizumi who caused that, but immediately puts the idea out of his mind. Despite all his taunts and jabs, Iwaizumi would never do anything to actually hurt Oikawa.

His ears finally catch up to him and tune him into their fight.

“I was fine until you butted in!” Oikawa’s shouting, waving his hands around like a madman. 

“Yeah, because that jackass was handling rejection so well,” Iwaizumi snaps, gesturing to Oikawa’s nose. Even at this slight distance, Tetsurou is pretty sure it’s broken. 

“I could have handled it by myself, thank you very much!” Oikawa snaps, “considering I am a grown ass man and all!” 

“Well, I’m tired of you trying to handle everything alone!” Iwaizumi yells, really raising his voice for the first time since Tetsurou, Bokuto, and Kei had arrived. “Dumbass!” 

“Oh, like you even care!” Oikawa’s throwing a tantrum and his words are slurred, but it’s still a slap in the face to Iwaizumi. He immediately snaps his jaw shut. It’s too far and all of them know it. 

Despite having been frozen in place since their arrival, both Tetsurou and Bokuto seem to move in unison now, stepping out to try and stop them finally. They’ve had to play damage control for Oikawa’s cruel mouth before, but never with Iwaizumi. 

Tetsurou glances at Bokuto, who glances at him, and sees his own uncertainty reflected in his golden eyes. 

They’re stopped short by Iwaizumi, who grabs Oikawa by the front of his blood-covered sweater and yanks him forward so Oikawa has no choice but to meet his eyes. 

Tetsurou freezes again and he feels Kei reach out and grab his wrist gently. 

“I care because I love you, dumbass!” 

All at once, Tetsurou feels very suddenly that he’s intruding on something he shouldn’t be. 

Oikawa is blubbering a little like a baby, throwing his arms around Iwaizumi, his words muffled by the man’s jacket. It’s for the best, even if Tetsurou is more than a little nosy and, as much as he feels like he’s intruding, kind of wants to know what he’s saying. 

Except, they start kissing and he can definitely find it in himself to turn his head away from that. He turns to Kei, who’s still holding his wrist. He has a cute, dumbfounded look on his face. 

“We should take Oikawa to get his nose set,” he says, completely ignoring everything that just happened in front of them. 

Tetsurou raises an eyebrow. “And are you going to be the one who interrupts them to tell him that?” 

Turns out, neither of them has to, because Bokuto yells loud enough to break Tetsurou’s eardrum before Kei even opens his mouth to respond. 

“Yo, lovebirds! Let’s maybe save that for after Oikawa’s nose is back in place!” he shouts at them, laughing as the two bounce apart like embarrassed school children. To Tetsurou and Kei, he says, “I cannot believe Akaashi missed this.” 

“He’s going to be devastated,” Kei says cheerfully. 

“I know!” Bokuto groans, clearly not getting the sarcasm. “I should have recorded it.” 

“Yeah, ’cause that wouldn’t have been weird at all,” Kei deadpans. 

Bokuto pouts at him. 

Tetsurou is the only one left with any amount of common sense, apparently, because he’s the one who ends up corralling all of them to the train station while googling where the nearest emergency room is. 

It doesn’t take them very long to get there- mercifully it’s only a few stops away- and it’s a very empty waiting room. There’s only one other person in there, a lanky man similar to them in age with curly black hair and a scowl. 

They let Iwaizumi deal with checking Oikawa in. 

The plastic chairs are already starting to hurt Tetsurou’s ass. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t take long for a nurse to call Oikawa’s name. As she does, another nurse is escorting a man into the waiting room. Oikawa jumps to his feet. 

“You?” Oikawa exclaims, his eyes comically widening as he catches sight of the stranger. 

He does look sort of familiar, with a statuesque sort of beauty that Tetsurou can’t seem to place in his mind. He blames his shoddy memory on the shots as he fails to recall how he knows the man. 

The man  looks just as surprised to see Oikawa, though his surprise is considerably more contained. “Oh, Oikawa. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“What are you doing here?” Oikawa practically barks at him, his eyes narrowing with dislike. 

That’s when it clicks in Tetsurou’s mind. How had he not realized it sooner. 

“Ushiwaka!” Bokuto exclaims, practically flying out of his seat to talk to the man. “What are you doing here, man?” 

Ushijima looks as stoic as ever, but his hand is bandaged. “I was attempting to cook dinner when I was unfortunately distracted.” 

“Please tell me you stuck your hand in the oven,” Oikawa says cheerfully. 

Iwaizumi smacks him lightly upside the head as the nurse looks absolutely appalled. “Don’t be an ass, Shittykawa.” 

Oikawa turns to stick his tongue out at him. “Rude, Iwa-chan. I thought you loved me.” 

“Oh, Iwaizumi,” Ushijima says, “You finally confessed. Congratulations.” 

“FINALLY?” Oikawa all but shrieks and mercifully, the nurse and Iwaizumi are finally dragging him into the hallway, where the rest of the waiting room attendees will be spared from his melodrama. 

Ushijima is still talking to Bokuto and they’re joined by the grumpy looking man, but their conversation is much more controlled than any they might have had with Oikawa, so Tetsurou finds his attention drifting. 

“Oikawa owes us all a round for this,” he sighs.

“And then some,” Kei agrees solemnly. “I’m pretty sure he got his blood on my shoes.” 

Tetsurou wrinkles his nose. “Gross.” 

Kei pulls out his phone, sighing. “Do you think he’ll block me if I send him a Venmo request for new ones?” 

“The real question is do you care?” 

“Great point,” Kei agrees. He almost looks like he’s smiling. 

Tetsurou yawns, his head starting to bob before he jerks back into alertness. 

“You should get some rest,” Kei says softly, “I can wake you up when they’re finished re-breaking his nose.”

“I’m fine,” Tetsurou insists, “And ew.” 

“It’s a miracle of life,” Kei scolds him, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. “No other human bone can bounce back that fast.” 

“The nose isn’t technically a bone,” Tetsurou murmurs. 

“And I technically told you to take a nap,” Kei responds.  

Tetsurou wants to argue, but his mouth feels too heavy to move. He is tired, even if he isn’t sure he’ll ever be able to get comfortable in this plastic monstrosity the emergency room is calling a chair. 

Still, as his eyes start to droop, Tetsurou thinks back on the night. As his head drops onto Kei’s shoulder, he feels foolish for the rejection he felt at the club. 

As he falls asleep, his side pressed against Kei’s in the plastic waiting room chairs, he feels an arm wrap around his shoulders. 

They’re going to be okay.

Life after Iwaizumi’s confession is largely unchanged. The only difference being that Oikawa has become twice as insufferable to be around. 

Tetsurou wakes up, goes to the shop, thinks about Kei. Sometimes Kei texts him and asks if he wants to get dinner together when his practice ends. The texts make Tetsurou smile so much Kenma thinks that he’s having a Joker-style breakdown one night. Tetsurou finds himself texting with similar invitations nearly as often. Sometimes Kei still stops by the shop on his way to practice or on his breaks, claiming that he needs another protection candle or incense for his apartment, just in case his curse hasn’t let up (Tetsurou is pretty sure it let up at least a month ago, when they made the protection jar, but he doesn’t say that. He longs for Kei’s company too much to turn him away). 

He goes to his neighborhood volleyball games and plays with Kenma and a bunch of guys he didn’t know back in high school. Sometimes Oikawa or Bokuto will join them. He invites Kei a handful of times, but he never makes it. He wishes he could, though, because he has a feeling they would have a lot of fun working together on blocks.

He loves many things, but sometimes it does boil down to this: he loves his friends. He loves volleyball. He doesn’t need or want anything else.

It’s strange, because Tetsurou doesn’t regret his decision to take over the shop. It was tradition; it had been in his family for generations. Sure, he hadn’t loved it at first, finding it beyond stressful at best, but he’s grown to love it over the last handful of years. 

But sometimes, when he’s alone, or when he’s playing volleyball, he wonders what his life could have been like if he’d followed his silly high school dreams. Oikawa and Bokuto did, after all, and now they were both set to go to Division One within a year. He feels the weight of the volleyball in his hands. It’s heavier than ever. 

He throws it into the air and serves it. It goes over the net cleanly. 

One chilly night just a few days before Halloween, Kei asks him to dinner. Dinner doesn’t seem like enough time these days, with Tetsurou always leaving their outings wishing that they could have just a few minutes more, if not hours longer to spend together. 

He voices this to Kei as they’re finishing their meal- takeout Onigiri from one of the Miya twins (he can never remember which of them is which)- and to his surprise, Kei agrees. He won’t meet Tetsurou’s eyes when he nods and says that he also wishes they could spend more time together. 

Tetsurou is pretty sure that he’s blushing. 

“Why don’t we go stargazing?” Tetsurou suggests. It’s already getting dark out thanks to the late season, and there’s a half hour train out of town that’ll take them to a good spot. 

“Sure,” Kei agrees. His face still looks red and it takes all of Tetsurou’s self control not to tease him about it.

It takes even more self control not to reach for his hand on the train, unable to think of anything but how steady it felt in his when they were leaving the bar the night Oikawa and Iwaizumi finally got together. 

They don’t talk much on the ride, which gives Tetsurou time to replay that night in his mind for the thousandth time. He wonders, for the millionth time, if Kei actually had been about to kiss him or not. 

Once they’re out of the city, they double check that a train will be by again in a few hours, and pick a field just a few hundred feet from the station to lay down in. 

Kei points out constellations to him. Tetsurou listens like it’s the most interesting thing anyone has ever told him, because in this moment, it is. 

He points them out until there aren’t any left to show, so then he tells Tetsurou the stories behind each constellation. Kei’s memory of them seems to be shoddy at best, but he laughs when Tetsurou makes guesses about what’s going to happen next. 

It isn’t Tetsurou’s most thought-out plan, but it’s peaceful. Chilly, though, so they’re practically huddling together for warmth in the grass. Kei’s arm is under his head like a pillow and there’s a swell in his chest. It’s perfect. 

It’s a full moon tonight, ideal for releasing unwanted intentions and negativity in your life. Tetsurou has never felt very connected with the full moon, finding that the new moon and all it entailed suited him better. 

Kei shifts and sits up, stretching his back. Tetsurou follows suit. 

The moonlight shines brightly behind Kei, backlighting his blond hair like a halo. He wants to reach out and run a hand through it. Are the loose curls as soft as they looked? Tetsurou’s pretty sure he might die if he doesn’t find out, but his hand stays still by his side. 

Despite the moon, Tetsurou doesn’t want to let Kei go. 

Kei seems to be looking at something behind him, but Tetsurou is pretty sure he’s just lost in thought. He wants to know what he’s thinking about. He opens his mouth to ask, but Kei turns to look at him suddenly, stopping him dead in his tracks. 

“I don’t think I’m cursed anymore.” 

Tetsurou blinks because this isn’t what he expected Kei to say. 

And, as awful as it sounds, he didn’t expect the disappointment swelling in his chest, either, but it’s there anyways. He swallows hard and puts on his best, fakest smile. 

“That’s great! And, since it’s a full moon, it’s the perfect time to let it go completely,” he says. 

“You told me that already,” Kei says, looking at him finally. 

He’s frowning. His lips are plump and a little chapped and frowning as they look at Tetsurou. He immediately decides that he doesn’t like it when Kei frowns at him, even if his eyes still look a million miles away. 

“I know,” Tetsurou says lamely. 

“I should thank you,” Kei says reluctantly, and Tetsurou wishes he wouldn’t, because it sounds like the beginning of goodbye, “For all of your help.” 

The fake smile widens and Tetsurou asks, “So you don’t think it was all a coincidence anymore?” 

Kei purses his lips. “I’m not saying it’s entirely impossible that I was cursed.” 

“I’ll take it,” he laughs, hoping it doesn’t seem as fake as his smile. 

Kei is fidgeting with the sleeves of his sweater. Has he been doing that the whole time? 

Tetsurou realizes with a jolt that he doesn’t want to be like Oikawa and Iwaizumi. He doesn’t want to wait. “Kei-” 

“Tetsurou-”

They both shut their mouths promptly, staring at each other under the moonlight. 

“You first,” Tetsurou says. 

“No, go ahead.” 

“You’re impossible,” Tetsurou says with a laugh. “Just tell me.” 

Kei opens and closes his mouth a total of three times, saying nothing each time. There’s a mix of emotions on his face, none of which Tetsurou can read. Finally, he says, “I don’t know how to say this.” 

Tetsurou feels like he’s on the edge of his seat, his stomach falling out from under him despite the solid field underneath him. “You can tell me anything. You know that.” 

“It’s… embarrassing,” Kei mutters. He’s turning pink in the moonlight. 

Tetsurou laughs again, but it isn’t mocking. “I’ll go first then.”

Kei looks at him expectantly. 

Oh, right. He should probably say something. 

Well, fuck. Here goes nothing. 

“I like you,” he says, feeling a little bit like a middle schooler confessing to their first crush, “A lot.” 

“A lot,” Kei repeats. 

“Don’t make this harder than it already is,” Tetsurou pleads. “Yes, a lot. Like, a stupid amount. Like I want to hold your hand and take you on dates and come home and make you tea after hard days and good days because making tea is basically its own love language.” 

Kei is looking at him like he’s grown a second head. And he isn’t saying anything. 

“Say something,” Tetsurou pleads. Turn him down or don’t, but he’s pretty sure that waiting for an answer is taking years off his life. 

“I… like you a lot, too,” Kei finally says. “That’s actually what… what I wanted to tell you, too.” 

It’s Tetsurou’s turn to be a little speechless. “Oh.” 

And then, of course, he’s grinning like maniac and Kei is presumably laughing at his stupid expression and he feels so happy that he thinks his heart might burst.

“Hey, can I kiss you?” Tetsurou asks and the joy he feels when Kei nods yes is indescribable. 

He’s grinning so hard that it’s almost impossible to actually kiss him, but Kei calls him a dork and pulls him in by the front of his hoodie and Tetsurou finds a way to manage it. 

They nearly miss their train back into the city. 

Here’s how it goes: Kuroo Tetsurou walks through a graveyard. There are flowers in his hand and there’s a smile on his lips. There’s a boy waiting for him at the other end of the graveyard. 

There’s a spring in Tetsurou’s step.