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The first years had kept Daichi and Sugawara late after practice again. Their basics still needed some work—Kageyama’s capacity for teamwork had improved marginally, and Hinata, well, seemed to understand the purpose of receiving the ball, if not the proper form for it yet. Undeterred, Daichi knew they’d get there someday. He watched them race each other to the school gate and back four times before they finally declared a tie and rode off on their bikes.
He stood outside the gym and appreciated the evening for only a moment before a cheerful voice called his name from behind.
“Daiii-chiiii,” Sugawara chimed.
He smiled. “Ready to go, Suga?”
“Duh.” It was Friday, which meant they had some serious plans with his car, an empty parking lot, and the greasiest dinner that Japan’s fast food chains had to offer.
Suga skipped ahead of his friend to the parking lot, going straight to the captain’s beat-up car, an old blue Suzuki Alto. The front passenger door was always jammed, so Suga crawled into his seat through the driver’s side before Daichi entered and started the vehicle after only three tries. In such an archaic vehicle, Daichi really didn’t love committing traffic violations, but at Suga’s urging, they rolled through a few stop signs, exceeded the speed limit ever so slightly, and made it to the drive-through window in 15 minutes flat.
“Hi, could we get—”
“Two double burgers, one with extra bacon, a 4-piece chicken nuggets and a large side of fries, please,” Sugawara leaned over Daichi’s lap to order for them. “Oh, and two extra large milkshakes!”
Suga leaned back into his seat, but Sawamura tried his very best to ignore the lingering hand on his thigh as he pulled around to the pickup window, and the setter’s deft fingers very close to his mouth feeding him fries as he drove to the park. Daichi was definitely going the speed limit now.
He had barely parked before Sugawara was out of the car, clutching their paper bag of food and his shake and beelining it for the swings with joyful laughter.
“I’ll race you there, Daichi!” he ran ahead.
They sat on neighboring swings trading the paper tray of fries between them. Well, Daichi held onto it for the most part, munching on the crispiest ones and swaying his feet in the mulch while Suga kicked his legs and sipped his milkshake cheerfully.
“Taste,” Suga insisted, prodding Daichi’s lips with the straw of his drink. He took a modest sip. Koushi loved nothing more than sugar, and its sudden sweetness immediately overwhelmed the mellow flavor of his own shake. Every time they did this, Suga insisted on trying a new flavor from the extensive menu. The raspberry shake he got today was smooth and pink, topped, as usual, with a heap of whipped cream stained red by a few sticky maraschino cherries. The sweet aroma of it flooded Daichi’s mouth and senses.
“Mmm. Sweet,” he cleared his palette.
He held his own drink out to the air, even though he already knew what Suga’s reaction would be. Daichi got the same thing every time—chocolate peanut butter.
As predicted, Sugawara’s face tightened. “Blech. What do you have against sugar, Daichi?”
“Chocolate is sugar! Way sweeter than raspberries, Sugawara.”
“Mine is automatically as sweet as I am,” the setter teased. “You know that, silly.”
In lieu of a clever response, Daichi filled his mouth with more shake. He kept sipping as the overwhelming urge to agree with Sugawara came over him. They’d had nights like this before, a few times, where they can't tear their eyes from each other, where their touches linger a moment longer than they should…
KKK-BOOM.
Thunder. It looked like a storm coming in. Well, that explained the wind.
“You don’t think it’ll–”
The cloud rumbled again suddenly, somehow louder than before, and Koushi turned his head to the sky just as they opened into a blanket of rain.
“Oh my God, Daichi, quick! Abandon the fries!”
Laughing, the pair sprinted back to Daichi’s car after dumping their now-soggy leftovers in a park trash can.
“Daichi, the door,” Suga yelped, tugging uselessly at the jammed handle.
“The back, get in the back!”
Daichi ducked into the driver’s seat, and Suga dove through the unlocked passenger’s side back door. He locked the doors immediately as if it’d keep the rain monster out. They caught their breath for a moment.
Daichi’s eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness of the lot without the park’s street lamps, and he caught the glimmer of Suga’s silver hair in the backseat.
“So much for staying warm,” he broke the silence.
“Wet clothes aren’t really helpful for that, no,” Suga agreed. His own shirt was waterproof (couldn’t say the same about his tight pants) but Sugawara was soaked.
“I have a spare outfit in the back somewhere,” Sawamura offered without a second thought.
“You’re a lifesaver, captain.”
Maybe he should’ve paused on that, Daichi thought, as he realized the setter would now be changing into his clothes in the backseat of his car. “Found it!” Suga said happily. “Now, no peeking,” he teased. Daichi swallowed.
He sat obediently forward-facing as Suga changed into a black long-sleeve—nothing he hadn’t seen before. But as his eyes began to flicker to the rear view mirror, Daichi noticed how the ends of his friend’s hair looked weighed down with rain. A drop of water would occasionally trickle from one of their little gray peaks in a rivulet across the setter’s slim nose.
And Daichi just happened to still be looking when Sugawara unbuttoned his pants. Sawamura’s heart threatened to pound out of his chest as he shimmied them over his hips, and he praised his past self for throwing that pair of sweatpants in the backseat.
“No peeking, Daichi. I see you.” Damn. Bad Sawamura. He fixed his eyes sternly on the steering wheel.
With no console between the two front seats, it wasn’t a problem for Sugawara to slink forward when he was done. He ended up with his feet draped over the passenger’s side and his upper body lounged across Daichi’s slightly damp lap, stretching out like a cat. As he settled his arms above his head, Sawamura’s eyes were drawn to his shirt riding up on Suga’s stomach, loose over his shoulders and long on his wrists. His silver hair was stark against the black fabric, but matched the loose grey sweatpants that hung low on the setter’s narrow hips. His eyes darted around the sliver of muscle exposed in the narrow slip between the fabrics.
When he returned to reality, Koushi was staring up at him with wide hazel eyes. Daichi became acutely aware of his own expression.
“You stopped peeking!” Suga said, feigning disappointment.
“Koushi,” he hissed. The setter looked pleased at successfully making him blush.
“We should— we should head home, right?” he asked tentatively after another moment. “Shouldn’t we?”
Suga slid closer again, his knees pulling in to squeeze against Daichi’s side. He lifted his hands again, this time bringing one of them to rest on the bottom of Sawamura’s stomach, the other hovering with his fingers just under the hem of his borrowed shirt. “I don’t know, captain. Should we?” he whispered mischievously.
“Sugawara,” the captain murmured. His voice had sunk to a low rumble.
“Sawamura,” Suga purred, smiling innocently up at his friend. Moonlight reflected through the rainy windows onto him, catching his collarbone and his soft silver hair in a white wash. It was like sun on the water, Sawamura thought, as Sugawara pulled himself to sit up in Daichi’s lap and the light moved with him.
Sugawara laid both hands on his chest. Daichi met him there, tracing his thumb over the thin ridges of the setter’s fingers as his touch drifted up from his stomach all the way to the side of the captain’s thick neck. Suga’s hands had grown softer, Daichi noticed—they’d gotten half as much use this season compared to last, so it was only to be expected. He wondered for a moment if Suga had noticed, or if it bothered him at all.
Suga hooked a finger on the collar of his shirt.
He kissed Daichi gently at first, a soft press to the corner of his mouth. The captain responded by opening his lips to him, and their kiss deepened. Suga’s mouth was pale and sweet as cream against Daichi’s tongue, his hair silver and silky between his fingers.
“Suga…” he breathed again. Sugawara was pulling at him, grasping the shoulder of Daichi’s shirt to draw himself further into the driver’s seat and Sawamura’s lap.
“Koushi,” he gasped again when Suga nipped a bit at the corner of his lower lip. The silver-haired boy smiled against his mouth.
“Don’t you know anything other than my name, Daichi?” he teased.
Daichi grinned. “What else is there worth knowing?”