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The mixer in Yaku’s cup tasted bitter. He hadn’t questioned what was in it when it was handed to him, something he only partially regretted. Sure it was probably risky taking a drink from a guy he didn’t really know at a high school party, but at this point, he didn’t care. He needed the booze enough that he didn’t care about the rancid taste or the potentially suspicious origins and contents. It was his third refill, after all. He just needed something that would get him drunk enough to forget about that.
Trashy music was blaring in his ears as he made his way over to one of the couches to plop back down next to Kai. He wasn’t present enough to notice the concerned look on his friend’s face.
“Yaku, are you… doing alright?” Kai asked, a hitch of worry in his voice. As usual, Kai had offered to be the sane and sober friend who ended up borderline babysitting everyone by the end of the night. He clutched a can of ginger ale in one hand and reached out to grab Yaku’s shoulder with the other.
“I’m fine Kai, don’t know why I wouldn’t be.” Yaku responded, taking another sip of his mixer. His answer didn’t seem to ease Kai’s concern.
Yaku glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings of drunk and horny teenagers. The couple on the couch next to them were practically dry-fucking each other out in the open. He cringed at the sight and chugged his entire cup of booze.
“I’m going back to get another refill. I’m still too sober to put up with this.”
“Maybe you should slow down Yaku, remember we still have practice tomorrow afternoon.” Kai said, grabbing Yaku’s wrist. Kai was trying to be the voice of reason. In his current state, Yaku despised the voice of reason.
“You’re not my mother, Kai. Lay off me and go check on whether or not Yammamoto has managed to kill himself by now.” The party had supposed to have been for third years only, but Yammamoto had somehow managed to weasel his way in. Yaku had just thanked god that none of the first years had followed his example. He yanked his wrist out of Kai’s grasp, ignoring the expression on his friend’s face. It seemed to be a mixture of concern, disappointment and a hint of anger. Yaku was having too shitty of a night to care.
He pushed through the crowd to get back to the kitchen, where the booze was. He grabbed a can of beer from the counter and took a swig. It tasted like cat piss. He shook his head, building up the courage to fight his way back through the crowd towards the couch. He only managed a couple steps before he ran into him.
“Yakkun.. Heyy” Kurro was slurring his hello, clearly already fully drunk. Yaku fumed over the fact that it had taken so long for Kuroo to even notice that he was also at the party. It was the first time any of them had decided to go separately. Usually it was the three of them and whoever else they knew who was going piled into Kai’s minivan he borrowed from his parents. This time, Kuroo went alone, leaving Yaku with a too sober and rational Kai and a too drunk and crazy Yammamoto. As much as Kuroo got on his nerves, he was a much needed buffer in the group.
“Kuroo. So it looks like you managed to make it in one piece?” Yaku felt his face growing hot. He blamed it on the alcohol and not the way Kuroo stared at him through half lidded eyes, pupils all blown out. He would never admit it out loud, but Kuroo was undeniably attractive.
“Heh, yeahh looks like we both made it.” He grinned in a sort of lopsided way. Yaku rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to say a snarky quip in response. Before he managed to get any words out, a hand reached out and grabbed Kuroo from him.
“Tetsurou-kunnn… come back and dance!” She was practically hanging off him as she whined and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. It took all of two seconds for Kuroo to forget about Yaku entirely. Yaku watched as the girl pressed a kiss onto Kuroo’s neck and dragged him towards the backyard. Yaku tasted bitterness again.
It had started a few days before the party. Kuroo blew off their Wednesday tradition of games and studying at Yaku’s house. Yaku had been snide and callous in response when he learned Kuroo was ditching him and Kai for a date with some girl. Kuroo got confessed to all the time and yet he always turned them down, why’d he finally accept one? Kai had been supportive, as always, and played the voice of reason stopping Kuroo and Yaku from getting into another fight. Kai had dealt with three years of bickering between the two, he would take whatever peace he could possibly create.
Yaku didn’t know why he was annoyed when Kuroo texted their group chat saying how well his date went. His friend had finally gotten a girlfriend, and a hot one at that. He should have been happy for him. Instead, he felt bile begin to rise up into his throat.
Yaku had to admit it, he was jealous. Years of bickering, some thinly veiled flirting, he’d actually come to care for Kuroo. He’d come to like the accidental touches when they’d exchange papers or volleyballs. The lingering taste of Kuroo’s spit when he’d offer Yaku a sip of his drink. It almost felt like Kuroo had wanted him to believe, wanted him to think he had a chance. There was nothing quite like being a closet queer in highschool, never knowing what was real and what wasn’t. He knew Kuroo was straight, but he didn’t understand why Kuroo looked at him in that way. That way that made him feel like somehow, he had a chance.
He didn’t want to admit it, he never would admit it, but he secretly wished Kuroo would be staring at him with his sultry gaze, lingering hands running down his sides… He wanted to feel Kuroo’s hot breath on his neck, lingering right beneath his ear. He could practically hear Kuroo’s filthy mouth whispering obscenities into his ear. His face grew hot and his pants grew a little bit tighter. He fucking loathed it. He loathed that stupid fucking boy.
He looked out the kitchen window, his face pulled into a grimace. He watched as she laughed with him, just like he used to do. He felt like a fucking creep, watching him pull her into a sloppy kiss. He grabbed a stray bottle of vodka off the counter and drank it straight out of the bottle. He needed to get drunk enough to forget that. To forget the way Kuroo smiled at her before leaning in, the way he pressed kisses down her neck, running his hands across her waist, down her hips.
Fuck.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Drunk or not, he just couldn’t. He pushed his way through the crowd to the back door. The handle was sticky, he didn’t care. He walked out into the backyard, tunnel vision fixated on Kuroo. His head was spinning, but that wasn’t going to stop him. Kai was following him, he’d gotten worried when Yaku hadn’t returned to the living room after 10 or so minutes. Kai knew what was going to happen. He also knew that he couldn’t fully stop it. He’d watched their bickering for years, watched Yaku’s subtle changes in how he talked to Kuroo, how he talked about Kuroo. Yaku thought Kai hadn’t noticed; he had. Yaku’s bitterness about Kuroo’s new girlfriend was thinly veiled. Hell, she even looked a bit like Yaku. Kai bit his tongue, knowing he should probably step in. The team needed to come first, after all.
The team was the last thing on Yaku’s mind. He wasn’t thinking about them, not when he could hear Kuroo’s voice in his head; “Sometimes, I wish you were a girl, Yakkun.” . They’d been drunk after celebrating their win against Nohebi when Kuroo had admitted that. Yaku almost crumpled to his knees right then and there when he heard that. He felt his chest constrict, just like it had on that day. He was furious. He was furious over how Kuroo made him think that he had ever actually had a chance.
I can’t stand the fact that she’s knowing you, just like I used to.
“Let’s go home Yaku, come on. We need to get you home.” Kai finally tugged at Yaku’s shirt, trying to drag him away from Kuroo. Yaku felt a strong set of hands grab his arms, physically restraining him.
“Yaku-san, come on we gotta go! You can hit me all you want but we gotta go home.” Kai had clearly roped a still tipsy Yammamoto into his concern too. Yaku kicked Yammamoto in the shins and wrangled himself out of his grasp.
“Yakkun?” Kuroo slurred, finally looking in his direction.
Yaku just hoped he had drank enough to forget the way he looked at her. Enough to forget that stupid fucking boy.
He grabbed Kuroo by the neckline of his shirt and shoved him away, angry tears welling in his eyes.
“You fucking cunt.”