Chapter Text
“Suga-san, I heard you’re dating someone!” Noya shouts just as the team exits Coach Ukai’s store, meat buns in hand. They’re walking home from practice, tired and drowsy after a long day. Noya’s voice is so loud that it startles the whole team, and causes some of the first and second years to stare wide-eyed at Suga.
Suga blinks, takes in the surprised faces of his teammates (Hinata actually has stars in his eyes), and turns to glare at Daichi, who at least has the decency to look a little sheepish. His love life isn’t exactly a secret, per se, but it also isn’t the most relevant topic to bring up while practicing spikes and tosses. But because the captain has already slipped up (and because it really is hard to deny Noya’s eager enthusiasm), he nods and throws a bright smile at everyone.
“That’s so cool, Suga-senpai!” Hinata exclaims, with as much clarity as he can with his meat bun in his mouth, “who are you dating!”
“Are they here in Miyagi, Suga-san?” Tanaka asks, cocking his head to the side. A little way behind him, Kageyama glances at the third years, trying to look uninterested in the conversation but failing.
“Ah, it’s long-distance,” Suga explains, taking a bite out of his own bun. He pointedly ignores the confused look Asahi directs at him and Daichi’s raised eyebrow. Suga reasons to himself that it’s not a lie, not really, and anyway, can’t he have a little fun with his underclassmen?
“Someone from Tokyo then, Suga-san? Who is it? Do they play volleyball, too?” Noya rapid-fires, hopping and skipping around and about the team. Suga only shrugs, pretending to be engrossed in the last of his food. He side-eyes Daichi and Asahi, who are silent as they hang back and observe Suga’s ploy.
(“‘Long-distance’,” Daichi air-quotes, whispering to Asahi. Asahi’s snickers are cut short when Suga “accidentally” hits Daichi in the stomach.)
“Is it someone from Nekoma! Fukurodani! Ubugawa? Who is it, Suga-san!” Hinata gushes, following Noya’s lead. Kageyama looks about ready to hit him on the head for being so noisy, but it’s not like any of them can deny their curiosity, now.
“All right,” Suga begins with a put-upon sigh, throwing his meat bun wrapper in the nearest trash can. “You actually all know him very well,” he says, and purposely pauses to allow his teammates to fall silent and wait in suspense.
“I’m dating — oh, oops, here’s my turn!” Suga slips out from the throng and, amidst squeaked protests, takes a sharp right, down one of the neighborhood streets. When he looks back, Tanaka’s expression seems mildly scandalized, and Noya and Hinata wail for Suga to come back and that’s not fair, Suga-san! Tell us who it is!
“I’ll see you guys Monday,” Suga laughs, waving at them. He adjusts the strap of his messenger bag and turns the next corner, disappearing from the team’s sights.
(Only Daichi and Asahi notice that the turn leads Suga a fair number of blocks away from the Sugawara residence, but they keep that to themselves.)
“I told the team I was dating someone long-distance,” Suga mentions a few hours later as he lays on the bedsheets, wrinkling his Karasuno uniform in the process. Beside him, Oikawa runs his fingers through Suga’s silver hair, lightly massaging his scalp. He decides to humor Suga’s out-of-the-blue statement. After months of dating, Oikawa has come to know that Suga’s brand of humor is a unique one, and while he may not completely understand what constitutes as funny to Suga, he can at least appreciate the mischief in his voice and the brightness in his eyes.
“I am in the same prefecture, Kou-chan,” Oikawa points out as Suga all but purrs in delight, “I hardly think that counts as long-distance.”
Suga scoffs, much to Oikawa’s amusement, and responds by tangling his legs with his boyfriend’s. “Koushi,” Oikawa coos, wrapping an arm around Suga’s waist and drawing him even closer. Suga smiles and taps him on the nose.
“It’s long-distance if I have to tiptoe to kiss you, you know,” Suga teases, and watches as a slow, brilliant grin blooms on Oikawa’s face. They trade cheesy lines like that so often it becomes second nature to them, something easy and comfortable. Half the time the lines are ironic, and half the time they aren’t, but most of the time they don’t care to make the distinction.
“You’re really tiny, Kou-chan,” Oikawa sighs, like he’s exceptionally pleased, “you fit right here in my arms.”
Suga snuggles against Oikawa’s chest, smoothing his fingers over the fabric over his heartbeat before jabbing him in the ribs. He revels in Oikawa’s yelp, and in how Oikawa’s first instinct is to tighten his hold on Suga.
“You’re lucky I’m letting you off easy with the ‘tiny’ comment,” Suga grumbles, “you’re only a few centimeters taller.” Oikawa chuckles and presses his lips against Suga’s forehead, placating and playful all at once.
“Ten centimeters, if I recall,” Oikawa hums, enjoying the tiny whine Suga emits, “which is long-distance, as you pointed out. You’re too far away, Kou-chan, so I can’t kiss you.” Oikawa stifles a laugh and angles his mouth towards Suga’s, dipping his head down slowly. He stops just close enough for Suga to feel his breath on his lips, and remains stock-still, waiting.
“No,” Suga drawls, mock-pleading as he loops his arms around Oikawa’s neck. He peppers Oikawa’s cheeks and forehead with kisses, punctuating each one with no. “We’re in a no-distance relationship now. No-distance!”
“Copy that,” Oikawa laughs, and closes the gap to kiss his silly boyfriend silly.