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“We’re getting married.”
“About time you guys picked a date,” Asahi groaned into the phone setting down his pencil to knead the space between his brows.
“No, not exactly,” Suga said and Asahi could hear him almost laughing.
“Suga, you need to just commit to something so we can make plans,” Asahi found himself lecturing his friend, “Nishinoya wants to come, he needs advance notice. Tanaka and Shimizu will have to close the store for the day. Just pick a date.”
“Ah, well the date is today. We’re getting married today.”
Everything ground to a halt, Asahi staggering to his feet, looking out the window. It was pouring rain in Tokyo, he could only imagine Miyagi. Of all the days to pick to get married.
“Today? Suga, I’m not ready!”
Suga laughed on the other end of the line, clear as a bell.
“Asahi, when I said ‘we’ were getting married, I meant me and Daichi.”
“I know! But I had work I was going to do this afternoon. And Nishinoya and… where are you doing it, what time?”
“Uh, Daichi? How much longer?” Asahi heard Suga ask voice fainter as he leaned away from the phone. “We’re up next.”
“Up next? Where are you at? Can you stall?”
“Not for the fourteen hours you’d need,” Suga said with another laugh, “We’re in the states remember? Las Vegas actually.”
“No, Suga, no, please.”
“There’s Elvis! Daichi! Look…! I know he isn’t real, what do you think I am, stupid?”
“Suga, please,” Asahi croaked with the certainty that Suga was not listening to him at all now.
“Asahi,” Daichi’s warm baritone flooded his ears.
“Daichi, don’t do it.”
“It’s too late, we put the money down.” Why did Daichi sound so giddy? Wasn’t he aware that he was committing some sort of terrible crime against humanity? He and Suga deserved a ceremony with dignity, and color schemes and matching bowties. God, were they even dressed up? “Asahi are you still there?”
“I’m…” Asahi rasped out.
“We’re up. We just wanted to let you know,” Daichi told him solemnly, Asahi could hear Suga cackling in the background.
“Can you…! Can you put me on facetime? Even if it’s awful and… Daichi?”
Daichi had hung up, Asahi blinking down at the call ended message on his phone his heart shattering for a split second before it was lighting back up with a facetime request from Suga. He answered to see Daichi way too close to the phone, big lopsided grin on his face, looking a little scruffy like he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, definitely not dressed up. Asahi suppressed a groan.
“Hey big guy,” Daichi said, “How do we look?”
Suga’s face popped into the frame, his eyes so bright, wearing his usual novelty t-shirt, this one with the image of an egg on it.
“Hey Asahi, you look like an old man in those glasses.”
“I hate you,” Asahi told him and Suga started to giggle, elbowing Daichi who flashed Asahi another grin, “And you too, Daichi. You guys are the worst. You’re the worst people I know. You deserve each other.” Daichi barked a laugh at that and then there was some chatter in the back, both of them turning to a lady speaking English, Daichi turning to Suga who answered back, relaying her message to Daichi who hadn’t bothered with English since high school, unlike Suga who taught it every day.
“Could you hold our friend?” Suga asked her, turning the phone to face the lady who blinked her big startled lashes at Asahi.
“For the ceremony?”
“Yes, please. He didn’t want to be left out.”
“O-okay,” the woman agreed, phone changing hands, Asahi having to look away from the swirling imagery until the camera was redirected towards his friends, there was tinny music barely decipherable through the terrible phone sound quality. Elvis’ Can’t Help Falling in Love, Asahi watching as Suga gave Daichi a look, linking hands. Daichi leaned close to kiss Suga’s cheek, the lady carrying the phone into what could loosely be referred to as a chapel ahead of them, taking a seat, Asahi watching, eyes beginning to prickle as he watched the two approach the approximation of The King complete in rhinestone jumpsuit and sunglasses, hair coifed back, sporting a bit of a beer belly. His singing wasn’t half bad. Asahi leaned close to the phone but it was hard to tell what his friends’ faces looked like, if Daichi was nervous, if Suga had started crying yet. The Elvis was reading the rites, English he was only catching bits and pieces of and the image blurred before Asahi’s eyes, sniffing hard.
He hadn’t pictured their wedding like this.
He used to fantasize about it in high school, his favorite daydream, where he could give them a beach wedding, or something more traditional, the whole team would be there and their families, Suga’s devious little brother and Daichi’s rambunctious horde of siblings. Sometimes the officiant asked if there were any objections to speak now or forever hold their peace, Nishinoya got up to make a joke to pretend-Asahi’s mortification. Suga always thought it was hilarious though.
Asahi had shared this with Shimizu once who had insisted there would be no traditional ceremony, ever the realist, she said they’d get married before they were even out of college, she and Asahi were the witnesses at some sort of off the books ceremony. In this fantasy they wore suits anyway, Suga with his hair slicked back and Asahi got to make fun of him for how stupid it looked, but he didn’t tease too much because Suga was a nervous wreck as if Daichi were not helplessly in love with him. Daichi was calm and reassuring in this version, he shed one manly tear when he pledged his life to Suga.
In truth Asahi liked his version better, the beach where Daichi cried so hard he couldn’t get through his vows like the embarrassingly lovesick dumbass that he was. Asahi teased him about it later and Daichi was red but did not argue. In this one, they wore linen suits barefoot on the sand. Suga had lobbied for Hawaiian shirts and Bermuda shorts and Daichi and Asahi had talked him out of it. Suga didn’t cry in this fantasy, but he couldn’t stop smiling, maybe he even had the nervous giggles, hand over his mouth to keep them in while Daichi looked at him like he’d hung the moon.
Elvis had turned the mic over to the couple, Asahi had squeezed his eyes shut to cut the tears off before they overwhelmed him, listening to Daichi first in a voice slightly quaking pledge to love Suga as long as they both shall live, in sickness or in health, for richer, for poorer. And Suga followed him up by promising to love Daichi until the oceans dried up, until the stars fell out of the sky, and Daichi sniffed hard and Asahi knew who cried in this version as Suga continued in gentler tones reminding him that was a long time not a short time.
Elvis declared it a done deal.
“The groom may now kiss the bri…er groom,” he fumbled, and Asahi gave a wet snort of laughter, rubbing his eyes clear in time to catch a glimpse of an aggressive make out that rivaled the notorious club reunion of ’16.
At last Elvis cleared his throat and Daichi had the sense- or maybe it was Suga? It was hard to tell exactly on the phone- to pull apart, looking at each other in a daze. Elvis slapped Suga on the shoulder and Suga smiled but did not look away from Daichi. Asahi pitied Elvis, he knew all too well the Suga brush off, when he only had eyes for Daichi nothing else mattered, not friendship, not food, not volleyballs flying directly at his head.
Then the lady with the phone was shuttling him back to the newlyweds (the newlyweds??!?)
“Congratulations,” Asahi squeaked at them, Suga dragging his eyes away from Daichi to smile and up close Asahi could see the bleary red of his eyes, hear him give a quiet sniff.
“How was the view? You want us to reenact the first kiss up close so you can really feel like you’re here?” he rallied.
“Dear god,” Asahi groaned to laughter from the other two.
“We weren’t planning to do it like this,” Daichi said then apologetically, “Things just sort of lined up and it felt right so we did it. Sorry you couldn’t be here.” Up close his eyes looked red as well, complexion of his face red and blotchy. Suga gave another louder sniff and Daichi threw an arm around his shoulders to drag him close and squeeze him, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of his head. The lady was ushering them out.
“They’ve got a schedule to keep. We should let you go,” Daichi said as they shuffled toward the exit, Suga leaning in against him. Any minute now Asahi could imagine him doing the thing where he pretended his legs didn’t work anymore falling into Daichi’s arms like a lead weight, Daichi staggering trying to keep him upright. Whenever Suga did it to him, Asahi always ended up nearly dropping him and Suga accused him of being a traitor.
“Thanks for having me,” Asahi answered and Suga blinked smiling at him.
“We couldn’t have done it without you,” Suga told him. “Thanks for being with us. When we get home, we should have a party or something, huh Daichi?”
“You’ll be the first to know,” Daichi promised Asahi.
That had been 34 months ago. Not that Asahi is counting.
“Why the sudden change of heart?”
Asahi couldn’t lie, it had taken him aback when Daichi had called last week to ask if there was any way he could make his suit fit better short of buying a new one. Daichi, ever the cheap ass.
“Not a sudden change of heart. Just taking care of unfinished business,” Daichi said one hand on Asahi’s mom’s sewing table. He’d had a knee injury in college and Asahi had thought it’d healed up okay, but he couldn’t help but notice the way Daichi was moving today, slow, a pinched look on his face. He was only what, twenty eight? He wanted to ask but he was also not mentally prepared for Daichi to roast him at 9am on a Tuesday morning. So instead he hummed in response to that and went to work pinning, the pants were a little long, a size too large to accommodate Daichi’s muscular legs. The jacket a little baggy and loose over his shoulders for the same reason. Daichi was determinedly not meeting Asahi’s eye as he circled, holding the pins with his teeth until he was satisfied.
“Suga’s idea then?”
Daichi made a non-commital sound to that and then let out a breath.
“No, no, mutual idea,” he amended in less defensive tones, Asahi had crouched down to adjust a pant leg. “I mean, we meant to, like a long time ago obviously but life just gets away from you, y’know? It’s not like we aren’t already married,” he said waving his hand with the ring on it, as if Asahi could ever forget that video call. It then occurred to him that he wasn’t really sure he’d ever seen Daichi wearing the ring. Usually it was on a chain around his neck on account of work. Daichi had said he was free all week. Asahi licked his lips and considered the repercussions for asking that particular question.
“They wouldn’t let me in to fucking see him,” Suga was vehement as they walked from the train station to the coffee shop, blazing hot and angry at even the mention. Asahi had only asked if Daichi wasn’t working and before he knew it Suga was red faced, fists clenched ready to kill. “He was in the hospital hurt and I’m his fucking husband and they wouldn’t let me in. They said we weren’t family. Rules are rules. Asahi, I thought he was going to die!” Big fat tears were escaping Suga’s eyes but he only angrily dashed them away before continuing his tirade. If Asahi had started crying that would’ve been game over for him even trying to communicate but Suga was unfazed by his own emotion barreling on. “They threatened to remove me from the hospital, can you believe that?”
Asahi didn’t dare to agree that yes he could.
“Anyway,” Suga sniffed thrusting his fists back into his pockets. “He’s on leave from the firehouse right now but his doctor isn’t going to give him the clear to go back. It’s been a long time coming. Daichi’s all torn up about it, so don’t ask him,” he continued in quieter tones.
“That’s why you’re adopting him?”
Suga swallowed hard, tears swelling in his eyes again and he only managed to nod.
“You’ll come right? We promised you a big party right? I don’t know if we need witnesses or something like they did in the states but we want you to be there.”
“Sure, sure,” Asahi agreed, reaching out to pat Suga on the shoulder, Suga leaning into his touch.
“Thanks Asahi. Would you want to fit my suit for me too? For free as a wedding gift?”
“Dunno about that,” Asahi said pushing Suga off, Suga laughed dashing away his tears.
The office was one of the most dismal places Asahi had ever been, grey and gloomy and so… 1980's office, worn carpet and outdated furniture, the fluorescent lighting making him feel like he was in a dirty crime-procedural show. Daichi was sitting down beside him, head bowed nearly between his knees, hands clasped behind his head, the cane leaning up against the chair beside him. Asahi could count on one hand the amount of times he’d seen Daichi nervous, and this made time number three, his good knee bouncing anxiously beside him, Asahi resisting the urge to hold it still if only to stop the jitters it was giving him. Suga was at the desk talking to the secretary in pleasant tones, smiling cheerfully as if he was making charming small talk and not trying to see how much longer they had to wait. And really there wasn’t any hurry because the Tanakas…
“Yo, yo, the party is here!”
Well, now there was hurry, the Tanakas were here. Tanaka in dress pants and a leather jacket, Kiyoko beside him in a lavender empire waist jumper, accentuating her growing baby bump. Asahi’s heart lifted at the sight. Daichi had lifted his head and smiled.
“Hey, Tanaka, Shimizu!”
Suga turned from the desk to wave, big smile on his face, saying one last thing to the woman before bounding back to the gathered group to give Tanaka high ten with a shout. Daichi staggered to his feet, embracing Shimizu before turning to shake Tanaka’s hand. Tanaka dragged him into a hug.
“About time, man! Though I always thought you’d be the one adopting Suga-san not the other way around.”
“Ryu, you can’t say that.”
“What? You thought the same thing! We put bets on it. Now we all owe Noya money! Hey, where’s the bastard anyway, huh, Asahi-san?”
“Couldn’t make it. Airfare and his job. It’s complicated,” Asahi sighed. “And only Suga can do any adopting because he’s older…” But Suga was talking over him to answer Tanaka’s question.
“Daichi said if he adopted me no one would call me Suga anymore and I’d have an identity crisis and we don’t need that,” Suga chirped cheerfully, socking Daichi in the shoulder.
“I didn’t say that,” Daichi protested with a laugh, “but it’s true.”
“Instead of Suga, you have to call me Sawa at the reception, but only to Ennoshita.”
“Suga,” Daichi groaned.
“What? It’s psychological warfare. You saw that bill he sent us. That wasn’t a friends and family discount.” Suga continued to cackle. A man opened one of the doors to stick his head out.
“Sugawara Koushi?” he called. Suga tapped Daichi’s arm.
“We’re up,” he whispered as if it was the two of them there alone, hands connecting, Daichi straightened, all the nerves shedding off of him.
The man ushered them into the room, the door closing behind them and Tanaka let out a breath.
“Man, I’m all nervous for them. Hope Suga-san’s packing a flask in that jacket, Daichi-san looked like he was going to pass out.” Asahi laughed at Tanaka before sitting back down, eyes falling on the cane, Kiyoko sank into the seat beside him.
“Not quite how I pictured it,” she said to him with a knowing smile.
“No,” Asahi agreed.
“How’d you picture it?” Ryu slouched into the seat on the other side of Kiyoko, picking up the cane. “Someone must’ve left this here,” he got up to take it up to the receptionist's desk.
“That’s Daichi’s,” Asahi said, Kiyoko grabbing Tanaka’s jacket to pull him back.
“Sawamura?” she asked as if there was another Daichi.
“His knee’s bothering him again,” Asahi said.
“The knee he fucked up in college?” Tanaka sat back down cane resting in his lap, with a worried look on his face.
“Yeah, guess it has been for a while. He’s going to have to quit the firehouse. But uh, Suga said not to ask him about it,” Asahi said feeling like he was violating some privacy act by telling them, asking for Suga to rough him up later when they were alone, but they were both nodding solemnly.
“Tell me about your imaginary Suga-Daichi wedding,” Tanaka said again poking Kiyoko in the shoulder. “You’ve never said anything about that.” Kiyoko reached out a hand to fit their fingers together. Asahi missed Yuu like a phantom limb.
“Destination wedding or was it the masquerade ball?” Asahi suggested before she could answer, Kiyoko giggled softly.
“I forgot about those. I was imagining them eloping in college, they’re both dressed in sweats, Suga’s still a little hungover, Daichi has to carry him because he refuses to walk.”
Tanaka barked out a laugh at that.
“See, I never thought they’d get married at all.”
“You’re straight, we get it,” Asahi intoned and Tanaka flipped him off.
“No! I mean, they’re the old married couple that never gets married, hell I didn’t think they’d ever get together in the first place, they’d just be permanent roommates in denial about their feelings for each other. Y’know, all ‘why can’t I find love’ or ‘I don’t see what the big deal is’ because really they’ve got everything they want right there.”
“I don’t know,” Asahi answered that carefully, “They’re a little too horny for that.” Kiyoko covered her mouth with her hands but not in time to muffle the loud snort, the squawk of laughter. Tanaka was turning red.
“What do you guys know that I don’t?”
“You don’t wanna know,” Asahi groaned.
“Yeah, I do! That’s why I asked,” Tanaka retorted, “That’s sounds like good juicy high school gossip and I’m all in, dude, tell me.”
Kiyoko had gotten a hold of herself, patting Tanaka’s head.
“You had to be there, honey.”
“Noo, come on, babe, tell me.”
“It wasn’t anything that happened,” Asahi said picking at a loose thread in his sleeve, “So much as everything that didn’t.”
“Huh?”
“It’s the implications, Ryu,” Kiyoko explained, “The looks.”
“Ohh, the looks? I know all about the looks. Jeez you two made that out to be gossipy, everyone knew about the looks. I had classmates who had never played volleyball in their lives who knew about those two and their looks. I just thought it’d never get anywhere past that, you know how Suga-san is, fun and flirty with everyone, and Daichi is so stoic and bottle it in. I thought neither of them would ever have the balls to make a move.”
“Fair point,” Kiyoko said.
“We used to argue about that all the time,” Asahi sighed, “Will they, won’t they.”
“I think you owe me money,” Kiyoko said.
“I don’t owe you money,” Asahi protested. Kiyoko hummed unconvinced.
“How’d you picture it, Asahi-san?” Tanaka said then. “Mine was- not at all, Kiyoko’s after a drunken tryst and you’re what? Something traditional?”
“Ah, maybe,” Asahi said, “Or maybe something more fun, they’re both kind of traditional, I guess I imagined them and their parents, all very somber, Suga cries a lot because that’s how he is. Or like,” Asahi scratched his neck, “I wanted them to have a big ceremony, they’ve both got designer suits, Daichi takes one look at Suga and gets all choked up, Suga can’t stop laughing nervously, they make out for an obnoxious amount of time afterwards, we have a big party, they get messy drunk, just sort of their regular shit. And it’s not surprising because it’s them, y’know? They uh…” Asahi scratched his neck again, “When they got married in Las Vegas by the Elvis impersonator, I was just like, I’ve been outmaneuvered, they came up with something more them than anything I could’ve imagined and I was so ashamed because those fuckers are my best friends. When they said they were going to the states and going to stop in Las Vegas I should’ve known, I should’ve demanded to go with.”
Tanaka was cracking up.
“And crash their wedding?”
“No! I wanted to be there, instead those idiots facetimed me in, how insulting is that?”
“Azumane, they facetimed you?” Kiyoko asked softly, setting a hand on his shoulder. “You know they didn’t even tell us until six months later that they’d done it. Suga was wearing that ring the whole time and we were suspicious but every time I asked he’d just sort of change the subject. It’s not like we would’ve judged them or anything. They’ve never kept their relationship a secret from us.”
“Yeah, man,” Tanaka agreed, “You’re the first one they told. You were practically fucking there. Wait, hold up, did you just say they got married by an Elvis impersonator?”
“Yeah?”
“Jesus, fuck,” Tanaka snorted and burst into laughter, head between his knees, “Like a fucking,” he couldn’t get the words out. Kiyoko snorted covering her mouth again.
“Azumane, did they really? They never mentioned that.”
“They did,” Asahi nodded solemnly, “I saw him with my own eyes. They weren’t even dressed up, Daichi was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, they both cried.” Kiyoko and Tanaka continued to laugh as Asahi described the rest of it, the confused woman who’d held Suga’s phone, the beer belly Elvis in the cheap polyester costume, the sparsely decorated chapel closer to a neglected conference room than to God. “They promised me a big reception when they got back and then they just never did. I figured that they were just saying that to say it, to make me feel better. I don’t know,” Asahi trailed off.
The door opened. Daichi came out first, complexion blotchy, smiling, hand on the wall to steady himself, Suga backing out after him still shaking the man’s hand.
“Thank you again,” he was saying, before reaching for Daichi’s arm. “Where’s it…?”
Tanaka offered him the cane that he passed to Daichi.
“Alright old man, let’s get this show on the road.”
Daichi let out a fluttering laugh linking their hands again.
“Uh, hi guys, let me introduce you to my husband, Sugawara Daichi,” Suga announced lifting Daichi’s hand so they could all see the gold band, Daichi’s face got redder.
“And this man is my husband, Sugawara Koushi, to have and to hold,” he announced stiffly, Suga was giggling.
“I’m the only one you get to call Suga though, it’s part of the contract.”
“I don’t think you get to decide that,” Tanaka volunteered.
“Daichi’s going to pummel anyone who decides to jokingly call him my name.”
“But Sugawara is his name too.”
“There can only be one Suga.”
“Death match,” suggested Kiyoko dryly.
“I’ll win,” Suga volunteered.
“I’ll let you win,” Daichi answered.
“See? He’s ceded the right. I’m the only Suga. Come on losers, we’re already late to the party!”
They’d taken over the little bar, it was down the street from their house, Asahi had been dragged there more than once and if asked he would’ve said there was no plane of existence where it existed as a good, acceptable reception location. But when he walked in to the lights strung up from the ceiling, saw the familiar old man behind the bar smiling fondly at them, and better still, all their friends littering the tables he decided he’d take it back. It was beyond acceptable. And there was Suga’s mom, an absolute wreck, mascara running down her cheeks as she squeezed Suga tight to her, and then proceeded to do the same to Daichi. Suga's tiny grandma who Daichi bent down so she could press a papery kiss to his cheek.
There was Daichi’s dad, laughing loud, thumping Suga on the back, Suga cackling just as loud, arm swung around Daichi’s shoulders. There were Daichi’s siblings all much more grown up than Asahi had seen them last, huddled at the bar, no doubt up to no good. Ennoshita to whom Tanaka was currently talking about Daichi and "Sawa"’s adoption, to growing outrage. Yui ribbing Daichi at the bar, Kiyoko and Yachi at a table giggling about god knows what. Asahi felt hollow, all his joy for his friends already expelled and now all he could see was they had too many hands to shake and congratulations to accept and he was probably going to end up posted at the bar alone tonight. He’d get drunk. Walking back to his parents’ house he’d get the cops called on him for looking like a stalker staggering around in the dark. He’d have to call his mom to bail him out, she’d worry his life was falling apart, suggest he go to rehab…
“You’re all still here,” the warm exhale at his side sent Asahi’s heart rattling in his rib cage like a trapped bird, turning to the familiar bright eyes, grin beaming up at him. He couldn’t breathe for a second, until the man was tapping his shoulder. “Hey, Asahi, you still alive in there?”
“Jesus, Yuu,” Asahi’s eyes filled up and he reached for Nishinoya’s face, Nishinoya seized Asahi by the collar of his jacket and dragged him down into a kiss. Maybe tonight wouldn’t turn out so bad after all.
“What’d I miss?” Nishinoya asked later when they’d finally breathlessly wandered toward the bar.
“Only fucking everything,” this was Suga, swinging an arm around Nishinoya’s shoulders and pushing a beer into his hands and a second into Asahi’s. “Thought you two were just going to suck face all night and not even say hello.”
“Suga-san, hello,” Nishinoya piped back with a grin, “Congratulations,” he said reaching past Suga to shake Daichi’s hand. “Oh, you too, Koushi-san,” he said turning to Suga, who pounced on him with all the viciousness of a feral cat. Daichi laughed as the two wrestled a moment, before he looked to Asahi still grinning. Asahi smiled back at him, a shared moment of mutual peace before Daichi forced his way between Suga and Nishinoya demanding that they break it up.
Sure, they got older, got married, but it seemed there were some things that would never change.