Chapter Text
There’s a man standing outside his door.
Scratch that. Start over.
There’s a man he doesn’t know standing outside his door, holding his sleeping nephew in one arm, with another kid clinging tightly to his free hand.
It’s not late; for the kids, yes, but Suga keeps strange hours, and 9:30’s just the beginning of the night for him, so he can’t blame fatigue for the way his brain goes fuzzy at the sight of Handsome Man. But then awareness kicks in with a vengeance, and his brain is chanting Shouyou Shouyou Shouyou, his heart caught somewhere in his throat, anxiety and fear and lethal anger all stirring up in him at the same time.
Shouyou stirs, and looks over at him with bleary eyes, muttering “Suga-chan,” and holding his arms out, flopping bonelessly over Suga’s shoulder when he takes him, and slipping effortlessly back into sleep. With Shouyou in his arms, the panic dissipates somewhat; the severity of what could have been a situation lessens with Shouyou safely in his care. His heart still thunders, though, beating frantic against the confines of his ribs.
“Okay,” he says, very quietly, forcing steadiness into his voice, “I’d like to know who you are and why you showed up at my door. How you showed up at my door.”
“I’m sorry,” Handsome Man says, equally hushed, his face slipping into agitation, “Shouyou’s mom was supposed to pick him up at 6-”
Suga groans.
Of course she flaked.
“-but she didn’t show, and I tried calling her, but she didn’t answer, and it was getting late, and Shouyou kept talking about his uncle who ‘lived in the building with the cool shark on the side!’ so I took a chance that you actually lived here-”
Handsome Man stops talking when the little boy with him tugs on his hand, and he makes some kind of paternal noise and scoops the boy up. Suga suddenly feels guilty for being angry, shifting Shouyou around in his own arms, wondering what he would've done if he were in the same position.
"Why don't you two come in?"
"No, we'll just head out, I'm sorry-"
"No, please, just- I'll put Shouyou down. Make yourselves comfortable, honestly."
He swings the door open wider, and Handsome Man looks at him hesitantly, before he relents and steps inside. It's not the first time Suga's let a stranger into his home, and it's not even the most unusual circumstance, but it still throws him for a terrible loop. He’s acutely aware of a voice inside his head reminding him that people don’t just invite strangers in, but he ignores it.
Shouyou is still out cold when Suga lays him down, flopping out like a little starfish over his dinosaur bedspread. It makes Suga smile. He fluffs the hair and kisses the forehead and closes the door to the spare bedroom as gently as possible, and steps back into his living room to deal with Handsome Man.
“I’m sorry,” he says immediately to the stranger who’s standing awkwardly in front of the closed door, dark-haired little boy draped over his shoulder, “please come in. Can I get you anything, tea or something?”
“No, we really should go-” he says, shifting the boy in his arms.
“Oh, right, yeah, it’s late. Um, let me give you cab money-”
“No, no, that’s totally unnecessary. I’m parked right out front.”
“But you’ve done so much for Shouyou!” Suga says, cringing a little at the desperation that’s trickled into his voice. “Let me do something for you.”
“It’s alright,” Handsome Man says, a smile creeping across his face. “I’m just glad I was able to get him home.”
Suga stares at him a little more intently than is necessary -honestly, can he be blamed?- before a weak grin of his own appears, and he lets the issue drop.
“Well...thank you. I’m terribly grateful that you took such good care of Shouyou.”
“It’s not a problem. I’m Daichi, by the way, Sawamura Daichi, and this is my son, Tobio.”
“Oh my god, I completely forgot! Uh, just call me Suga.”
“Suga, yeah, um, Shouyou told me. Well, we’ve got to be going-”
“Right. Well, thank you again.”
“Yeah. Absolutely, Suga.”
No. Stop your pining. You are a responsible adult. This is responsible adult stuff, not high school.
Still, even with his mental beratement, Suga can’t stop the lurch his chest gives when Sawamura looks up at him and smiles again.
It’s just such a nice smile.
“I’m sorry. It’s a pain, I know.”
“No, it’s fine, really.”
No wedding ring. That’s interesting.
Suga, stop it this instant!
Tobio squirms in Sawamura’s arms, and the gentle way he pats the little boy’s back almost makes Suga fall head over heels on the spot. But he crushes those traitorous thoughts, and gets the door for Sawamura, and waves goodbye, all like a responsible adult and not at all like a hopeless romantic.
Daichi’s in trouble.
Technically, he shouldn’t be the one who’s in trouble. He’s not the one who hasn’t picked up the phone after thirteen phone calls, he’s not the one who has yet to pick up his kid, he’s not the one dealing with the mother of all tension headaches coming on-
Oh no, wait, that one is him.
“Shouyou,” he says, “what are we gonna do?”
Shouyou looks up at the sound of his name, but goes back to his blocks and his one-sided conversation with Tobio, who’s growing less interested by the second, veering closer to irritation. It’s understandable, really; Tobio’s wind-down routine has been interrupted by Shouyou, who seemingly has no off switch.
Daichi sighs and rubs a hand over his face, and tries for the fourteenth time to call Shouyou’s mother. He doesn’t bother to leave a message, just like he hadn’t the last eight times he got nothing but a voicemail. After he hangs up, Tobio’s decided he’s had enough, and throws a block in Shouyou’s direction.
“Alright boys, time to clean up please,” he says, before Tobio can wreak too much havoc with his little hands on the block tower. Daichi ducks down the hall to see what Tobio has that might fit Shouyou. He’s so small, though, that’s gonna be an issue. There’s a spare toothbrush, and there’s definitely a futon stuffed in a closet, somewhere-
“What are you doin’?”
Daichi turns around, and sees Shouyou looking up at him, a block in hand.
“Are you done cleaning up the blocks?”
“Yep! What are you doin’?”
“I’m looking to see if Tobio has any clothes that will fit you.”
“Why?”
“ ‘Cause you’re gonna spend the night with us.”
“Here?”
“Mhmm.”
Tobio still has that stash of clothes somewhere. In the closet maybe? There’s got to be something that’ll fit Shouyou-
“But I don’t wanna spend the night here. I wanna stay at Suga-chan’s!”
Shouyou looks confused when he shouts- always shouting- this at Daichi, like he can’t understand why he’d be staying the night here and not at Suga-chan’s, whoever that is.
But…
“Who’s Suga-chan, Shouyou?” he says, and almost laughs at the way Shouyou’s face lights up. He’s always pretty lit up, naturally cheerful and curious and wide-eyed about almost everything, but this takes his energy to a whole new level.
“Su-ga-wa-ra Kou-shi! Apartment Number 4! Ooka...um...road...Tokyo!”
“Is this your mom’s friend?”
“Mama’s brother. He makes shrimp an' juice an' we make animals!"
Shouyou's never not shouting, but his voice gets exponentially louder, somehow, chanting Suga-chan! Suga-chan! and stomping his feet. Tobio appears in the doorway with a scowl and tiny grabby hands reaching for Daichi, but he refuses to walk around Shouyou's parade in the middle of the floor.
Daichi has all the makings for A Situation, one meltdown-prone child and one hyperactive kid that doesn't belong to him, and the two of them are about to set each other off, if he doesn't do something.
"Let's settle down, Shouyou. Time to get ready for bed."
“But I don’t wanna go to bed! I wanna see Suga-chan!”
“I don’t know where Suga-chan lives-”
“I do!!! Apartment 4! Ooka...gama, with the shark on the side!”
Daichi’s surprised how that kind of makes sense, because he can picture the apartment building on Ookayama, the one that Tobio always stares at if they go by.
Well, no harm in a little drive.
Turns out Shouyou’s off switch is car rides, which means he has to wrangle one dead-asleep child out of Tobio’s old booster seat, and make sure the other one holds tight to his hand. Which means he can’t really be bothered to feel quite as bad as he maybe should when one of the building’s tenants holds the door open for him, thus saving him from the trouble of actually figuring out how to get into the building. It’s convenient, really, although his nonchalance about slipping into a stranger’s apartment building is a little worrying.
But then again, he’s not thinking too hard on it, since Tobio’s whining just about every other step and trying to get Daichi to pick him up, and Shouyou’s dead weight is slowly putting his arm to sleep. It’s not until they make it to the top of the stairs and in front of Apartment 4 that Daichi starts to have hesitations, because what if this isn’t actually Shouyou’s uncle, what if his mom is at the house right now, do people just do this with other people’s kids-
But it’s too late to back out now because the door’s opening-
And then Daichi relaxes a little, because he sees the resemblance right away. Suga-chan has the same wide, brown eyes, the same expressive mouth that he sees on Shouyou’s face, and probably the same mischievous smile, if he were to make that expression. But he’s not smiling; he looks, rather, a little panicked, and Daichi remembers oh yeah, not my kid. Of course, Shouyou, with impeccable timing, chooses that moment to stir a little, muttering “Suga-chan” in a sleepy little voice and going easily into his arms, where he promptly falls back asleep.
“Okay,” Suga says softly, “I’d like to know who you are and why you showed up at my door. How you showed up at my door.”
This, of course, is the part of the night when Daichi loses all semblance of control. Not when Shouyou’s mom doesn’t answer the phone, or when the night keeps marching forward, or when Tobio threw a block- no, it has to be in front of the attractive stranger whose door he just showed up at.
“I’m sorry,” Daichi starts out with, which is good, as he seems to be relaxing more by the second, but then his mouth just goes, and he knows he’s babbling, but he can’t find it in himself to stop, until Tobio squeezes his hand, and he’s brought jarringly back to reality; it’s almost 10, Tobio’s still awake, shit, he’s going to be grumpy in the morning, and there’s daycare-
He picks up Tobio, who instantly curls against him, and watches how Suga’s face nearly melts from cautious hostility to sympathy.
"Why don't you two come in?" Suga says, tone making it sound like he’s the one that just showed up on somebody else’s doorstep.
"No, we'll just head out, I'm sorry-"
"No, please, just- I'll put Shouyou down. Make yourselves comfortable, honestly."
Suga opens the door a little wider, until Daichi does finally step inside, and he disappears inside his apartment. It’s a nice little place, cozy, not overly neat, but not overly messy, either. There’s a few toys in odd places, a couple of mugs on a bookshelf and the cabinet holding the TV, but it’s nice; warm and lived-in and inviting. Daichi feels very awkward thinking these things about someone he doesn’t know.
He feels even more awkward when he leaves, because, as adept as he is at reading people, he’s not sure what to think about Suga, who is either the most sincere person on the face of this earth, or is the absolute best at putting on a front. He’s never met someone who appears to be as genuine and empathetic as Suga is, and it sets him on edge, like he was waiting the entire duration of their short conversation for Suga to slip up, and really lay into him. He should give Suga the benefit of the doubt, or maybe just shut off that annoying part of his brain that always makes him jump to conclusions, but he can’t, because he’s too used to seeking out the worst in people and their personalities.
It’s why he makes such a good manager.
That, and his lung power, his boss says.
Well, whatever. Suga seemed nice enough, so he’ll leave it at that for now.
Suga does not think about Sawamura Daichi for a solid week after he showed up with Shouyou in his arms, no sir, he does not. He also doesn’t spend the week rethinking the love interest in his latest draft, imagining him tall, but not too tall, broad-shouldered, dark-featured, and wonderfully domestic. He doesn’t daydream about this new character while meeting with his editor, or his manager, or when he gets dragged into a luncheon with the CEO of the publishing company. No way, he wouldn’t do that.
It’s been an embarrassing week.
He just can’t help it. Sawamura ticks off all the boxes he’s been holding out for, and it does things to him, dredging up all these hopeful, hopeless, desperately romantic feelings he has tucked away, even though he knows better.
Oh, does he ever know better.
Still, he convinces himself that he can’t help it when he surreptitiously looks around the daycare when he drops Shouyou off in the mornings, hoping for a glance of dark hair and broad shoulders. But Tobio’s always there before Shouyou, and Tobio’s always gone by the time Suga’s picking Shouyou up at the end of the day, and thus, Sawamura Daichi remains elusive. Which is a shame, really, because Suga’d love to actually have a conversation with him, maybe get his number-
“Sugawara Koushi, are you listening to me?”
“Huh? Yeah…”
“You aren’t. You’re daydreaming. Again. Don’t try to deny it, I know that look you get when you’re off in space.”
“Tooru, come on, I’m totally listening.”
Suga smiles when Tooru hmphs, bratty little nose stuck up in the air in his worst impression of offense. Really, he can do better than that.
“Here I am, pouring my soul out to you, and you can’t even be bothered to listen.”
“Tooru, you were talking about ‘Iwa-chan’ again. This isn’t an outpouring of your soul, nor is it a new topic of conversation. I’m pretty sure he hates that nickname, by the way.”
“He doesn’t. You wouldn’t know, since you’re too busy ignoring people all the time.”
“Alright, so that time he said to me, and I quote, ‘I hate that nickname, can’t you get him to stop calling me Iwa-chan?’ means nothing.”
“Learn to read between the lines, Suga-chan.”
Suga snorts into his tea, not at all surprised that Tooru could justify that.
“Aren’t you here for a meeting?”
“There’s my Suga-chan, always cutting the fun out of everything.”
“I do not!” Suga protests, but Tooru’s grinning.
If he could describe his relationship with Oikawa Tooru, which is near impossible, because Oikawa Tooru is many things, and does not neatly sum up into any easy category, Suga’d say it’s something like a fond exasperation at all times, with the occasional instance of brilliance and business technique that comes off as surprising, given how closely Suga knows him. He’s been Suga’s manager for three years, his self-declared best friend for two, and they’re both at the open, honest point with each other that it’s both surprising and unsettling that they keep secrets from each other.
Well, maybe not secrets. More like closely guarded information.
“So, are you gonna tell me about him?” Tooru says lightly, pulling his date book and his humongous binder of notes out of his bag. It comes across casually, but with Oikawa Tooru, there is no casual. Everything has intent. Suga both admires and hates this.
“Wha-, ha, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, I’m very sure you do, Suga-chan. I know starry-eyed, and trust me, you are it.”
“I’m not-”
“Come on, gimme details.”
“No.”
“Oooh, so there are details-”
“There are not!”
“-and you’re just refusing to give them to me.”
“There are not, Oikawa, dammit! Hurry up with this meeting so I can get back to work!”
Tooru laughs, and spends the next forty minutes with a teasing smile on his mouth, while Suga gives him short, terse updates on the progress of his book.
He pushes Sawamura firmly from his mind after that, refusing to dwell on him any longer. Shouyou goes back with his mother, and when Suga does have to pick him up from daycare, he doesn’t linger, instead focusing his sole attention on his nephew. He throws himself back into his work, and passes his writing goals everyday, even spending a solid twenty hours on his book one day, until Tooru drops by and makes him go to bed. He has a clarity, now that he’s been embarrassed by his own foolishness. He throws out all his notes on his Sawamura-imitation character, and gets himself firmly back into routine.
It’s good for a while, great even; Shouyou’s happy, his editor’s happy, he’s happy, and Tooru’s...tolerable, even though he’s been trying to wheedle information out of Suga for weeks. Regardless, it’s a productive month.
And then Suga meets Sawamura Daichi at the daycare.
It’s one morning when he has Shouyou, and has to drop him off earlier than usual, because for once, he has a meeting that’s actually important, and not just meeting up with Tooru for coffee and listening to him whine about everything. He’s halfway through helping Shouyou with his shoes, Shouyou’s hand pulling on his hair for balance, when Suga sees a familiar scowly-faced boy reluctantly putting his things away in a cubby.
He looks up, and it’s like all his progress from the previous month just derails the minute he lays eyes on Sawamura again.
He just has so many appealing aspects.
“Suga-chan! My shoe!”
“Ah, yes. There we go, all set now. What do we say, Shou?”
“Thank you!”
Shouyou shoots off like a pint-sized rocket, his things half-stuffed into his cubby. Suga straightens them out until they fit, and stands up. He’s not ashamed to admit (to himself) that he stares at Sawamura while he can, until Tobio’s sorted out and wandering off to play after hugging his father. Sawamura’s gaze crosses over him, and his face lights up in recognition.
“Suga!” he says.
“Hello, Sawamura!” Suga says, and his mind internally screeches over how eager he sounds.
“Haven’t seen you here before.”
“Aha, yeah, it’s the time. Well, and the day, since I don’t always...it’s early, you know, earlier than I usually drop Shouyou off.”
I’m babbling. Oh god Suga, don’t do this to yourself.
“So you...I mean, I don’t want to seem insensitive, but you take care of your sister’s kid sometimes?”
“Yes,” Suga says firmly, feeling himself prickle, “She needs help, so I help her. That’s what family does.”
Sawamura seems to regard him for a moment, and Suga meets his gaze evenly. Boldly, even. It’s decent progress given his state of mind three seconds ago.
“Sorry, it’s just kinda nerve-wracking dropping someone else’s kid off with an uncle I’ve never met.”
“We should exchange numbers.”
He blurts, literally blurts this out, and there goes all his composure. He can feel his cheeks turning pink.
“Uh-”
“If it happens again, I mean.”
“Oh. Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
Maybe it’s not quite a recovery, but Suga does leave with the tiniest of springs in his step, and just the thought of Sawamura’s number, sitting like a weight in his phone, gets him through a two-hour contract meeting in a stuffy room on a beautiful day.
Of course, the dizzy smile he wears throughout the two-hour meeting means Tooru corners him afterwards, demanding info, but Suga’s in such good spirits he bats him away effortlessly, and even manages to make him pay for coffee.
But then, of course, after a successful day of work, and a free evening, the realities of how bad he is at things like dating and pursuing relationships come crashing down on him, and he spends an hour past when he should’ve gone to bed staring at his phone, willing some message from an attractive man to come out of it.
He’s been on lots of dates, but, as Tooru likes to remind him, he’s bad at dating.
“You’re already like half of an old married couple,” Tooru told him once, and Suga had slapped his arm for that, and gone on to hook up with the guy who’d been flirting with him all night just to prove Tooru wrong, but when the guy left sometime in the middle of the night, and Suga’d felt a little hollow next to the cooling space in his bed, he knew Tooru was absolutely right. There was always something particular he wanted, which he’s never thought of as bad, but it made for loneliness, and in all honesty he could do without it.
“Shit,” he mutters under his breath, squeezing his phone in hand before sighing, and thumbing through his contacts.
So it turns out that starting a phonecall with, “Tooru, what’s an appropriate amount of time to wait before you text someone?” at one in the morning is number one, not the most unusual conversation they’ve had, nor at the most unusual time, but leads to number 2- it will result in the most deafening shriek of noise that’s ever come out of Tooru’s mouth.
“You idiot! We talked about this last time you got a noise violation. You’re not crashing with me if your neighbors kick you out.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But it’s not everyday your baby finally grows up.”
“Oh my god.”
“Tell me everything. I am begging here, Suga-chan.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“No way. You harassed me earlier, I’m not telling you anything.”
“Sugaaaaa-”
“Ugh, you know what- forget I called. I’m going to bed, goodnight”
“No! Suga, come on, let’s just have a conversation.”
“No. You’ll just make fun of me again.”
And he says it in such a sad, pathetic little voice that the line actually goes quiet for a moment. Suga wishes he could reel it all back into his mouth and pretend it never happened. Vulnerability is one thing, but vulnerability with Tooru is entirely different.
“I won’t, I promise,” Tooru says, after another beat of silence. “You’re really interested in this guy, yeah?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Okay, fair enough. You know I only harass you because I care, right?
“Stop,” Suga whines, mushing his face into the bedspread.
“I won’t. It’s true. Sometimes you need a little help getting over yourself, that’s all. And because I’m the best best friend ever, I gotta make sure you get there.”
Suga doesn’t say anything, mulling over guilty feelings mixed with the annoyance of how easily Tooru can read him, and how close those words hit home.
“But, just so you know, it’s 2015. Text whenever you want, and don’t wait around for him to make the first move. Just don’t harass him and you’ll be good.”
“Oh, that’s reassuring, coming from you,” Suga says, his smile slipping into his voice. He can just picture Tooru draped over his bed and switching from gentle, sensitive mode to mouthy, know-it-all, unbearable mode.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“As if. I know how many times a day you call Hajime’s office.”
“Someday he’s gonna take my calls again, Suga-chan, just you wait.”
Suga lets the conversation wander, and it sits right on the tip of his tongue, this guy, he’s one of the parents at Shou’s daycare, but then Tooru yawns, and then he yawns, and they both consent that they should’ve been asleep about four hours ago. But he likes the noise of Tooru’s voice. It’s a comfort to him, driving away the loneliness and the doubt and the fragility of late-night revelations. He drifts off sometime around three, maybe, realizing after five minutes that the line’s gone dead, and Tooru’s no longer chattering away. He falls asleep with his phone in hand, on top of the bedspread.
A few days later, he’s done with agonizing over his insecurities, and men, and life in general. He punches out a quick, impulsive text, and hits send before he loses his nerve.
To: Sawamura
10:03 am
shouyou’s been talking nonstop about the aquarium
maybe we can organize a playdate sometime?
He hides his phone for the rest of the day and actually manages to forget about the text until he stops to eat that evening, and then is quite surprised, and a little delighted, to find a reply waiting for him.
From: Sawamura
11:23 am
Yeah, definitely! Tobio would love that. We’ll coordinate sometime when you have Shouyou on a weekend.
Suga’s pleased how well he handles it, how his stomach flutters a little with excitement, thrill, but otherwise, he’s calm. Cool. He’s not standing in his kitchen doing a little dance for joy.
To: Sawamura
6:07 PM
absolutely!
Naturally, his schedule goes from open to slammed almost immediately, and besides a few sporadic texts between the two of them, Suga has no time to coordinate anything besides getting Shouyou to and from daycare. He even makes Tooru accompany him when he has to pick up Shouyou last minute, when they’re actually supposed to be having a meeting.
“All’s I’m saying is I don’t see why Mitsuo is such a pushover.”
“He’s not a pushover, Tooru, he’s attentive. It’s a different type of man. Yasu’s not used to it.”
“Yeah, but-”
“It’ll all come together in the end, just relax.”
“You never tell me the endings, though! I have to wait until your draft’s done.”
“Of course. You’re on a need-to-know basis, and you don’t need to know the endings while the book’s still in progress.”
Tooru grumbles, and Suga smiles. He’s hardly paying attention to his surroundings, though, and when the door to the daycare swings open, he almost walks straight into it. Instead, he backs into Tooru, who squawks, but he’s hardly listening, because he almost ran into-
“Sawamura!”
He looks a little harried, Tobio holding onto one hand and a couple of bags in the other, but he looks up at the sound of his name, and the fatigue creeping around the edges of his face softens.
“Suga, hi! Must be pickup time, huh?”
“That time of day. I’m sure the teachers have had enough of Shouyou’s energy.”
“Ah, he is quite energetic, isn’t he?”
“It’s exceptional, and exhausting.”
Sawamura laughs lightly, and it’s such a pleasant, honest sound that Suga finds himself smiling in response to it. He catches the noise of Tooru clearing his throat, and feels his body stiffen in nervousness.
“Um, Sawamura, this is Oikawa Tooru,” he says, gesturing behind himself. “Tooru, this is Sawamura Daichi and his son, Tobio.”
“Hello, Sawamura-kun! Hi, Tobio-chan!”
Suga has to bite his lip to keep from laughing at the way Tobio’s face scrunches up into a dark scowl at Tooru.
“Nice to meet you. I’d shake your hand but, uh…” He shakes the bags in his hand, one brightly colored, the other muted and distinctly adult- looking.
“Oh, it’s not a problem,” Tooru says, slinking ever-closer to Suga. “You’re obviously quite the busy guy.”
“Yes, well, it’s been one of those weeks.”
“And we’re keeping you,” Suga says, distraught that he hadn’t realized sooner.
“Well, I wish I could say otherwise, but we really do have to go. It was great to see you, though! And meet you, Oikawa.”
“Likewise.”
“We’ll do the aquarium soon.”
“Yes, absolutely! Take care! Bye, Tobio!”
Suga darts through the door to the school as soon as Sawamura leaves. He’s hoping against all hope that he makes it to Shouyou’s classroom before Tooru can nab him, before-
“Suga-chaaaaaaaaan!”
That.
“Who was he, Suga-chan? How do you know him?”
“He’s just one of the parents. Shou’s friends with his son.”
“Is he the guy? Is this the one you’ve been mooning over?”
“...If I say no, will you drop it.”
“I knew it!”
Suga’s never been more grateful, for the sticky, playdoh-scented classroom in his life. The second he steps in, and is overwhelmed by the noise of shouting children, he can’t hear Tooru over their racket, and surprisingly enough, Tooru exercises a fair amount of discretion around little ones, waiting outside.
He lets Shouyou’s precious joy wash over him, kneeling down to hug him when he comes rushing over. Shouyou needs no prompting to talk about his day, jamming his feet into his shoes and collecting his things and leaping from one topic to the next so quickly Suga almost struggles to keep up with him.
It’s only made worse when Suga opens the door to the classroom, and Shouyou spots Tooru waiting in the hallway for the both of them. He almost falls out of Suga’s arms after diving forward sharply, drawings in either hand and demanding that Too-chan hold him. Suga trails behind the pair of them as they chatter back and forth, following the most winding, confusing conversation trail that ends when Tooru suggests ice cream.
“Absolutely not,” Suga says, glaring sharply at Tooru, who just stares innocently back.
“But Suga-chan-” he starts.
“No. Shou has to eat dinner first. You have to eat dinner first. You know how weird you get if you don’t eat real food, which has been happening way too often, by the way. I can’t deal with your...food swings.”
“Please, Suga-chan! Shou-chan’s been such a good boy this week, hasn’t he?” Shouyou nods his head furiously when Tooru looks at him, his eyes open wide and serious, the prospect of ice cream too much for him to comprehend.
“Dinner…” Suga says weakly, two pairs of enormous brown eyes steadily wearing him down. It’s true that Shouyou probably needs a pick-me-up after his week, but Tooru had to go and suggest it.
“I’ll pay,” Tooru says.
“You’re not coming over,” Suga retorts.
“Fine.”
“Ice cream, Suga-chan?” Shouyou says, tentatively, like he’s waiting for this dream to evaporate. Suga sighs deeply.
“Yes, Shou, ice cream.”
Two children whoop in the middle of the street.
“You’re really not gonna tell me anything?”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Suga-chan please, have a little more respect for me. I’m not blind. Anyone could tell that you were interested in him.”
“It’s not-”
“Just get the kids together for a playdate, it’s perfect. They’re like little, built-in excuses to meet up. And then daddies can have a playdate.”
“You’re gross. How could you be so gross.”
“Don’t even play, Suga-chan. I know he’s exactly your type of man. There should be absolutely no problem here. Unless- he’s not married, is he?”
“No. I mean, I don’t think so. I didn’t see a wedding ring."
“Oh. Well that’s perfect, then. Look, I know you’re bad at dating, darling, but that hasn’t stopped you from fumbling your way into relationships before, and it shouldn’t now!”
“Is this supposed to be motivating, Tooru? ‘Cause let me stop you right here and tell you that it’s not.”
“All’s I’m trying to say is I don’t understand what the holdup is. He’s hot. You’re hot. It’s criminal of you to not pursue this, and I only want the best for my sweet best friend, who sometimes needs to hear how bad he is at picking up men he’s interested in from his awesome best friend who is very good at picking up men he is interested in.”
“You’re amazing, you know that?”
“Don’t you take that tone with me. Just give me something to work with here. Is it the kid?”
“No, no, it’s not...I just...look, it’s complicated right now.”
“Uh huh.”
“It is! The timing’s all off, and you know I’ve got deadlines coming up, and Shouyou’s been with me more than usual, and his party’s coming up.”
“Uh huh.”
“Stop with that!”
“You stop. You’re the one with a million excuses.”
“No-“
“Look, you take it slow or whatever. Just promise you’ll actually pursue this guy, since you’re so obviously interested. I know how you are, always ignoring your own happiness, so it’s time you take some for yourself.”
“I don’t do that.”
“You definitely do. Now promise me.”
“Come on-“
“Promise me!”
“Jesus, fine. I promise.”
“I’m gonna make you pinky swear it next time I see you.”
“You’re the most annoying person I know.”
“Love you, too.”
Tobio receives his first birthday party invitation on May 23rd. When they get home, Tobio pulls it out of his backpack and hands it to Daichi. It’s crumpled from Tobio’s fist, and being stuck in the bottom of his bag, but most definitely homemade. Daichi reads over the concise information on the back, written in neat script. Tobio watches him quietly.
“Shouyou’s birthday?”
Tobio nods.
“Do you wanna go?”
Tobio nods again, slowly. Daichi smiles and smoothes a hand over his hair.
“Alright,” he says. He gives the invitation back to Tobio, and tells him to put it on the fridge. Daichi lifts him up and sets him on the kitchen counter, so he can watch as Daichi writes the date of the party on the calendar. While he makes dinner, and Tobio plops down to play cars on the kitchen floor, he gets Tobio to open up a little, asking him what kind of present Shouyou might like, to which Tobio lists off toy after toy in his soft, animated voice.
He goes to his mother’s the first weekend of June, and Yui brings him back with a smile on her face.
“He kept talking about Shouyou’s party,” she says. “We made him a card.”
They talk a little more, and it’s strained, but it’s a little less strained than usual. Mostly it’s just nice to see Tobio excited about something.
The day before the party, Daichi takes him to the mall for an exercise in patience and a lesson in selflessness. It takes a lot of coaxing and patient explaining that no, they can’t buy Shouyou all these toys, and no, you can’t have everything you see, we’re here to find something for Shouyou, but after a little while, Tobio seems to understand what exactly it means to pick out a present for someone, and asks Daichi for help reaching the coolest…
Honestly, Daichi’s not sure what it is. A big, blow-up bubble or something.
But it looks like the kind of thing a child as noisy and excitable as Shouyou would love. He helps Tobio pick out a roll of wrapping paper, and then surprises him with a stop to the ice cream stand before they head home. Daichi’s quite pleased with himself, and how well their day went. Tobio falls asleep in the car with bright blue stains around his mouth, from his popsicle, and only stirs enough to whine when Daichi gets him inside and wipes at his mouth with a washcloth. Tobio naps on the couch, and Daichi falls asleep in the chair in the living room, later woken up by Tobio climbing into his lap.
They wrap the present after dinner, Tobio with a furrow in his forehead as he concentrates on sticking tape where Daichi holds down folds of wrapping paper around the box. Daichi only sneaks five or six pictures.
“Daddy, I wanna carry the presen’.”
Sunday is gorgeous, sunny and warm and perfect for a birthday party, and Tobio’s been silently thrumming with excitement all morning. Daichi hands him the gift and laughs a little to see how small Tobio looks when carrying it.
“Be careful,” Daichi tells him, resting his hand on Tobio’s hair to guide him down the walkway into the house. He was a little worried about finding the house, since he’s not terribly familiar with the area outside of his commute yet, but once he’d found the street, he probably could’ve guessed at the house from a mile off. He’d never seen so many balloons on one house before.
Tobio walks slowly with the present in his arms, taking small, careful steps. He balks at the front door, though, after Daichi rings the doorbell, and drops the present so he can be picked up instead.
“Hello!”
Suga is beaming when he swings the front door open, a party hat sitting crookedly on top of his head. A low roar of noise fills the house behind him, a few piercing squeals breaking up the monotony of it, but Suga is unfazed. Tobio ducks his face against Daichi’s neck.
“Hi. Guess we’re a little shy now.”
Suga’s smile turns even brighter.
“That’s alright. Come on in. Oh, is this for Shouyou? Tobio, did you wrap it yourself?”
Tobio nods against Daichi’s neck, his arms squeezing a little tighter.
“What a nice job you did! Let’s go put it somewhere special.”
The inside of the house is a bit maze-like; parents and children and furniture and decorations all crowd the small space, and a steady hum of voices weaves through it all. It’s exactly the type of high-energy party Daichi was expecting. Tobio, now that he’s in the middle of it, seems far less thrilled than he had been that morning.
“Don’t you want to give Shouyou your card?” Daichi asks.
Tobio squirms, but otherwise makes no move to leave Daichi’s arms. Shouyou must have some sixth sense about Tobio’s hesitation, though, because he pops out of the living room leading a pack of children, and promptly begins shouting “Tobio!” in the middle of the kitchen.
“See? He’s excited to see you, Tobio.”
“Tobio! I saved you this hat! Aiko found it first, but she said you should have it!”
Shouyou twists his hand in Daichi’s pant leg, standing on tiptoe with a paper crown in hand, stretching as far as he can. Tobio shifts enough to look down at Shouyou, and then dives forward to take the crown.
“What do you say, Tobio?”
“Than’ you.”
Tobio assents to being put down after a few minutes of Shouyou shouting up at him. Daichi nudges the card into Tobio’s hands, and prods at him until he hands it over. Shouyou tears open the envelope and wails over the design on the front.
“Did you say ‘thank you’, Shou?”
“Thank you!”
Shouyou surrenders the card to Suga, who popped up out of nowhere after disappearing into the house, after the two of them debate over its safekeeping. He then tries to drag Tobio into the living room, which works until Tobio remembers Daichi’s still in the kitchen, and looks over his shoulder with wide eyes.
“It’s alright, Tobio. You can go play, and I’ll be waiting for you, okay?”
Tobio still looks unsure, but he gets swallowed up by the crowd of kids, and their noisy excitement is too infectious for him.
“Funny how such different kids become friends, isn’t it?” Suga asks, eyes bright and laughing.
“Yeah, heh. I’m pretty sure Tobio pulled his hair the first day they met, too, and then he comes home the week after asking me if Shouyou can come over.”
“Oh, was that him? Shouyou came home trying to show me a bald patch that didn’t exist.”
“Ugh, sorry about that.”
“Ah, he told me how he wanted to be best friends with Tobio after that. No harm done.”
Daichi can’t help but smile at Suga’s easygoing manner, even as their conversation slips past comfortable silence into awkward.
“Well, I’ve got to-”
“Yeah, of course-”
“Pick out a party hat!”
“Ah, heh.”
“I’m serious,” Suga says with a smile, as he slips around a corner.
“You’re smiling, Dai-chan, but I bet you don’t know just how serious Suga-chan is.”
Daichi starts a little when someone speaks close to his ear, surprised to find Oikawa when he turns around, looking every bit as mischievous and eerily sharp as he was the day Daichi first met him.
“Hello, Sawamura-kun.”
“Good to see you again, Oikawa.”
“He remembers my name and he shook my hand. Oh, I like you.”
Daichi laughs, unsure if Oikawa is being serious or facetious.
Really, it could go either way.
“Well, isn’t this adorable. Where’s Birthday Boy?”
“Out in the living room.”
“Ah yes, I should’ve guessed from the noise. You want a drink or something? I bet Suga-chan didn’t even offer.”
“Oh, no, I’m good-”
“Ooh look, he got ramune.”
Oikawa hands him a bottle from the fridge.
Daichi’s starting to suspect Oikawa is the kind of guy you can’t say no to.
“So, Sawamura-kun, what’s new in your world?”
“Just, y’know, work, and daycare for Tobio. Same routine, but it still manages to take up all our time lately.”
“What do you do for work?”
“Management for a private financial company.”
“That’s just gotta be a blast.”
Daichi laughs as Oikawa’s whole body slumps in sarcasm.
“Well, what do you do?”
“Management,” Oikawa says, grin growing cheeky.
“Something in common, then,” Daichi says.
“Sort of. I’m Suga’s manager.”
Is Suga famous? is the first thought that pops into Daichi’s head, and it’s just the tiniest bit embarrassing that he’s so far out of touch with what happens in the big, broad world that he has to ask himself this. The second thought is a realization that he must me making a face, based on the expression he’s seeing on Oikawa’s.
“I’m sorry, did you not…know? Has Suga-chan really let me down this much?”
“What?”
“Nothing. So, Suga hasn’t told you he’s a writer. He is, that’s his livelihood, the reason why he hardly leaves his apartment. I’ve been his manager for the past, oh, three years, I think? You know, you two should actually have a conversation sometime.”
“Yeah…”
“Ugh, when did you get here?”
Suga appears from around the corner, his nose wrinkling when he sees Oikawa.
“Suga-chan, you wound me.”
“You didn’t bring your stupid crown again, did you?” Suga says, to which Oikawa holds up a little case. His face is positively lit up with a wicked grin.
“Get out of my sight.”
“Suga-chan! So mean!”
“Go away. Go say hello to my mother.”
Oikawa slinks off with a little flounce in his step, seemingly unaffected, swinging his little case back and forth.
“He’s not to be trusted, Sawamura, let this be your warning.”
“Alright.”
Daichi hesitates, watching Suga fuss over the kitchen counter, neatening up with flighty touches that don’t do much to the mess of plates and napkins.
“Here, let me help.”
“Absolutely not. You are a guest, Sawamura, and I will not have my guests working at a party. Besides, I think we both know I’m probably doing more harm than good right now, anyway.”
Suga gives up on the cluttered counter and faces him, party hat still askew. Daichi finds it ridiculously endearing.
“So, um, Oikawa said you’re a writer?”
“O-oh! Well, yes. Did I not tell you that?”
“You didn’t, no.”
“Oh. I thought I did. Surprise, I guess.”
“Well? Is that all? What do you write?”
“Novels. The occasional article, short stories, private stuff, y’know, stuff like that.”
“Anything I’ve read?”
There’s something truly captivating about the slow smile that curves over Suga’s mouth, the shape of it sweet, but sharp, a curl of something devilish and enticing.
“Maybe.”
And as quickly as it appeared, Suga's smile turns genuine, a little laugh trailing out of his mouth. Daichi's head is spinning, caught in the sharpness of the smile, before it softened. He's now regretting the lack of communication between the two of them something fierce, and he's awfully curious as to what other things are hidden beneath Suga's sweet disposition.
"I wish I could tell you more, but I'm under so many contracts that my head would be sent off to at least seven different people if I broke any of them."
"Are you sure you're just a writer, and not actually an international spy or something?"
"You know, I was this close to majoring in International Spy in college."
"Damn shame."
"Well, it's a difficult struggle. I manage, though."
They slip into silence again, both of them falling into a type of shyness, delicate, fragile. Squeals ring out from the living room, distracting enough to relieve some of the tension that settles like dust fragments over their forms and their past-spoken words.
“Must be having fun,” Daichi says, the words tumbling out softly.
He steals a glance at Suga, whose gaze is stuck firmly in the direction of the living room. Daichi looks over his profile, the slope of his cheeks, the waves in his hair, the beauty mark. Every line of Suga is curved with intent, each imperfection and angle making up a whole picture hiding a story, a personality that Daichi’s only caught in gleams as it cut to the surface. He quietly comes to the realization that he wants to collect all those fragments, and piece them together until he truly knows Suga.
“Not to interrupt, but isn’t it time we cut into that cake?”
The silence shatters when Oikawa slips back into the kitchen, with a tiny silver tiara on his head and Shouyou propped up on his hip.
“The crown,” Suga says, and it comes out in such an agonized groan that Daichi laughs.
“Ah- ah. I’ll have you know that I’ve very graciously agreed to let your nephew wear my beautiful crown after cake, and now that I’ve said the word cake about fifteen times, all your little guests are quite ready.”
Suga groans, to which Oikawa beams, and sets about gathering plates and forks, plunking Shouyou down into a chair. The children wander in and out of the kitchen, most of them swarming to their parents and asking about cake. Daichi’s not surprised to see Tobio rushing towards him, arms already outstretched. He’s adjusting well to daycare, but the unstructured nature of the party must be throwing Tobio for a bit of a loop.
He tries to help Suga, he really does, but before he can push his way closer, a woman that must be Suga’s mother cuts him off, insisting that guests relax and let them handle it. The resemblance is almost uncanny, right down to the mannerisms and- what Daichi’s slowly starting to discover- the stubbornness.
So he steps aside with Tobio in his arms and watches with the other parents. They all sing a rousing round of Happy Birthday to Shouyou, who beams while standing in a chair and leans across the table in order to get as close to the cake as possible. Suga cuts it, and Shouyou insists on handing it out. Daichi’s stunned by Shouyou’s wholehearted kindness when he offers Tobio the first piece.
After all the cake has been served, there’s a call for presents, a great wave of excited shouts from frosting-stained mouths that almost distracts the kids from their cake. It’s Oikawa who tamps down that fire, hauling the presents out from whatever corner they were tucked away in. He settles Shouyou on his lap and makes him open each present carefully, card first, which Shouyou hands to him to read aloud. Tobio watches in interest while Daichi finishes the cake he’s had enough of, eventually relenting to be put down, and wandering closer to the table. He’s squirming by the time Shouyou gets to his present, jittering his feet in excitement, and even pushing closer. Shouyou raises a great deal of noise after revealing every present, but Daichi likes to think he’s even louder when he opens Tobio’s.
He almost slips off of Oikawa’s lap, trying to take the present with him, eager to tear into its box, but Oikawa holds him firm and tells him it would be rude to stop opening presents when so many nice friends brought them for him. So he continues, and nearly flies out of Oikawa’s grip when he’s allowed free, pulling Tobio’s present with him into the living room.
“Well, that was exciting,” Oikawa says, sliding up beside Daichi as the crowd in the kitchen thins out a little bit. “I don’t know what a four-year-old is gonna do with all those toys.”
“What all four-year-olds do, I guess.”
“Which is?”
“I dunno. Tobio’s only three. We haven’t gotten that far yet.”
Oikawa laughs sharply, picking up discarded paper plates and forks and dumping them in the trash. Daichi watches him for a moment, takes in the intent of all his movements, the easy way in which he moves around the kitchen, cleaning up quickly but still holding conversations with some of the remaining parents. He seems...familiar here, in Sugawara-san’s home, and it unsettles something in Daichi’s stomach. It makes him wonder just how close Oikawa and Suga actually are.
Soon, the kids start leaving, slowly being nudged out the door by moms and dads. Daichi finds himself drawn into conversation with a few of the parents he recognizes from the daycare, as he’s slipped into the living room to keep an eye on Tobio, who’s out in the yard chasing Shouyou’s huge plastic bubble. Suga flits in and out of his range of vision, trailed by Oikawa, or his mother, both of whom seem to be gently chiding him out of some frenzied state. In the back of his mind, Daichi grapples with how curious he is, and tries very hard to crush the sour twinge that seems to rear its head as he catches sight of Oikawa.
So he distracts himself with conversation about work, and the weather, and how Tobio’s adjusting to the move, and the other parents listen with rapt attention, and offer their own suggestions for kids with divorced parents, I’ll find that magazine I read it in and drop it off tomorrow.
The problem is, it’s boring conversation.
Daichi’s read all those articles, late night research after Tobio stopped asking where his mother was and finally fell asleep, and this is territory he doesn’t want to delve into again, but the other parents latch onto it. He doesn’t know how to escape their polite words and good intentions.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, Sawamura-kun.”
Daichi startles again when Oikawa speaks too close to his ear, but the distraction is so welcome he finds himself relieved rather than annoyed.
“I need your help with something,” he says, which leaves Daichi perplexed, but intrigued, so he excuses himself quickly and trails behind Oikawa to the kitchen.
He waits, confused, as Oikawa waves goodbye to some departing guests and sticks his hands in dishwater.
“So...you needed help with something?” Daichi asks, and Oikawa looks over his shoulder like he’s just realized he dragged Daichi out here no less than thirty seconds ago.
“No. You just looked so miserable in whatever conversation you were trapped in that I thought I’d rescue you,” he says.
He’s a little embarrassed how right Oikawa is.
“But since you’re out here,” he continues, “you can dry the dishes!”
Which is how he finds himself Sugawara-san’s kitchen, drying the dishes Oikawa hands to him.
It becomes a strange window of stillness. Oikawa doesn’t talk to him; he says goodbye to the parents and the kids as they leave the house, but he doesn’t talk to Daichi, just hums something fleetingly familiar as he washes. Daichi would take this as an opportunity to unwind a little, if he wasn’t set so out of sorts by Oikawa.
He can’t seem to catch a break anymore, as he keeps meeting these people he can’t read. First Suga, now Oikawa.
It’s strange.
“Oh my god, no. Get out of the kitchen. Stop doing my dishes.”
Suga’s appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, hands on his hips, staring hard at Oikawa’s back.
“Actually, Suga-chan, they’re your mother’s dishes.”
“Stop doing my mother’s dishes.”
Daichi’s ashamed to admit he cows a little under the weight of Suga’s glare when he shifts his gaze.
“And you,” he says. “I already banished you once. What is this treachery?”
“Hey, I’m just here because Oikawa handed me a towel.”
Suga huffs, actually huffs, and starts putting the clean, dry dishes stacked on the table away. Daichi’s surprised to see Suga’s eyes are a little red-rimmed, and it’s shocking enough that he ducks his head. He wonders if Suga had been crying earlier, if it had to do with whatever issue it was, when Sugawara-san and Oikawa were chasing him around the house.
Oikawa finishes up and disappears, and Daichi’s a bit rattled to be left alone with Suga, in a situation he’s unfamiliar with.
“Did Tobio have fun?” Suga asks after a few beats of silence. His voice sounds a little fuzzy.
“I think so. He’s certainly been more open today than usual. I don’t know where the boys disappeared to, though…”
“Still out in the yard,” Suga says, smiling a bit. “They fell asleep in the grass.”
Daichi sees images of routine and schedule in his mind, of naptime and bedtime and sugar intake, and decides, very quietly, fuck it.
“Thank you for inviting us,” he says softly, thinking of Tobio’s buzzing little self throughout the day. He can see Suga looking at him from the corner of his eye, but he can’t bring himself to meet his gaze. His gratefulness makes him shy. “Shouyou’s a good friend to Tobio.”
“I’m happy that Shouyou has found such a friend as Tobio,” Suga says, without missing a beat.
“Yes, well. I guess they never would’ve met if Tobio hadn’t been his charming little self and tried to pull Shouyou’s hair out.”
Suga snorts out a laugh, and the sound of it pulls a laugh out of Daichi, too, one maybe a bit too loud for a house that isn’t his, but it feels good anyway. He’s just happy that Suga’s smiling, even if it’s half-hearted.
“We should get going,” he has to say, even though something like regret sits heavy in his chest as soon as the words are out of his mouth. Suga nods.
“Hey...um, if you aren’t busy-”
“Yeah?”
“Wanna plan for the aquarium next week?”
“Oh,” Daichi says, his mind running over his schedule, mentally high-fiving himself when he figures out he’s free, and then mentally berating himself for a mental high-five, “yeah! That’s perfect! Next Saturday okay?”
“Sure, that’ll be great.”
Sure enough, Tobio and Shouyou are sprawled out on the grass. And they look dead asleep, too. Daichi’s a little concerned that Tobio won’t wake up easily, but he does, almost the instant Daichi puts a hand on him. He’s groggy, though, and immediately loops his arms around his father’s neck. Shouyou doesn’t wake up until Suga’s already lugged him up from the ground, but then he’s up, and on, as energetic as usual, dancing circles around them all as they head back inside.
“Aquarium next week,” Suga says, when Daichi’s lingering by the front door, Tobio draped over his shoulder.
“I’m gonna hold you to it,” he says in response.
“I promise!”
“I’ve got two little witnesses here that are going to be very disappointed if you break your promise.”
Suga looks at him, looks at Tobio, and finally sidelong at Shouyou, before holding out a finger, and looking very solemnly at Daichi.
“I pinky promise,” he says, and Daichi’s not sure if he’s laughing at Suga, or the way Shouyou gasps in astonishment and pulls on Suga’s pant leg.
“Fine,” he says, and they lock pinkies on it. And then Shouyou wants to pinky promise, but Tobio’s still sleepy, and doesn’t appreciate Shouyou pulling at his ankle, and Daichi feels like he’s being spun into another distraction before he can even get out of the house, so he extracts Shouyou’s sticky hand from Tobio’s leg and says goodbyes as quickly and politely as possible.
He’s not surprised when Tobio conks out again in his carseat. He feels about the same way.