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“Can I ask why we’re doing this at eleven o’clock in the evening or is this just typically when you do stuff?”
The fluorescent lights are blinding, almost searing into everyone’s skulls. Not that there were many people in the area, anyway, with only three or four other people wandering the aisles like zombies.
Apparently, twenty-four hour grocery stores seem to only be open to college students with eyebags deeper than the Mariana trench. If Kourai’s own pair is anything to go by.
“Why don’t you ask Mr. Piss Hair, huh?” Kourai forces the words through a smile, one that’s a lot better classified as a grimace. He grabs a tiny bag of flour from the shelves, throwing it to the cart without a care for the world.
Sachirou reaches over and leans the bag upright against the metal.
“What’d Mister Handsome do this time?” The scowl on Kourai’s face almost makes Sachirou laugh, with how animated it is. Kourai’s irritation is so palpable, Sachirou could probably chew on it.
“His brother’s better-looking than him.” Kourai grabs a pack of baking powder this time.
“They’re twins.”
“I said what I said.” The cart’s wheels squeak as Kourai pushes it, leading them away from the baking aisle, and towards the colorful array of tooth-rotting snackables. He continues.
“The idiot, who was supposed to be the one buying all this shit,” Kourai gestured wildly around their cart, truly emphasizing the gravity of the situation. “Decided to do it all at the last minute. Guess what? Now he’s too caught up in his plates to do shit and now we’re stuck buying it all at fuckass eleven o’clock in the evening.”
Sachirou’s eyebrows are raised, face colored in amusement at the sheer number of words out of Kourai’s mouth in a span of one breath. Wordlessly, Sachirou grabs a pack of gummy worms and throws it in the cart.
“What’d Sakusa say about it? You know, the one who actually has to bake a cake?”
“He said he could do it tomorrow. Knowing Sakusa, the fucking maniac, he’s probably already tucked into his fresh linen sheets, sleeping like a hibernating bear with an eye mask and a weighted blanket. He’s better than me.”
Sachirou smiles.
“You have such a way with words.”
“That’s what someone’s idiocy does to you.” Not one full step into the aisle that shines of clear and yellow bottles and cans, Kourai grabs a fridge pack of highballs and gently places it inside the cart, right next to nthe gummy worms. “We’re gonna need this.”
Sachirou merely lets out a laugh and nods. His eyes wander, searching all over the lines of Kourai’s lips.
It’s pink. It looks soft, and lingering, almost as if there’s lined paper hidden under his tongue, words tucked into the crevices of Kourai's brain.
Sachirou drags his eyes away, like his brain can’t handle the pull, from Sachirou’s eyes to Kourai’s lips, from north pole to south pole.
He sighs, gently guiding Kourai’s hands away from the cart, replacing the hands with his own.
“Seriously, what was Hinata thinking to pair us up like this?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s relying on Sakusa’s baking skills.”
Kourai moves forward, stepping in front of Sachirou and the cart. Of course, not before giving Sachirou a look of agitation.
“Osamu is right there. It would be better for Osamu to keep Atsumu in line than us having to watch the dumbass catch his own drool at the sight of Sakusa.” Kourai’s words are spewing out at a speed of a thousand miles per hour.
“Osamu’s a cook, not a baker.”
“Well then what the hell is Atsumu doing paired with us?”
Sachirou doesn’t take too long to respond. In all honesty, he has thought about this before. The grouping was pretty odd, after all.
“We’re responsible and probably the only ones who can keep him in line, other than Osamu.” He waits for Kourai’s words and directions. “Besides, I think Hinata has some ulterior motives. I’m pretty sure he made a bet on Atsumu and Sakusa’s whatever-ship.”
Kourai rolls his eyes at this.
“Well I, for one, did not agree to any of this.”
Sachirou smiles to himself.
“Not even to being paired up with me?”
Kourai’s steps slow down at this, hand resting against the end of the cart to face Sachirou. His voice is stern, and soft.
“You’re less than ideal.”
There’s a spark in Kourai’s eyes, a touch of his eyebrow, a twitch of his nose. Sachirou wants to reach out and hold him.
“You wound me, Kourai.” Sachirou leans his arms against the cart’s handle, trying his best to keep himself from doing anything stupid. His lips curl into a smile. Kourai’s cute when he’s mad.
“Oh, do I?”
Kourai catches Sachirou’s pair, the brown of Sachirou’s eyes almost dripping out of him, at the sheer giddiness blooming in his chest. Who knew provoking someone would be this rewarding?
Kourai takes one second, shifting his weight between his feet. Like scales, his mind feels for the question.
“Do you like ice cream, Hirugami?”
—
It’s chilly outside. Not too cold, but just enough for Kourai to feel the need to bury himself deeper into his jacket.
Admittedly, the ice cream doesn't help.
The store’s sign lights up above them, blue and white veiling over each of their features. Kourai sinks his teeth into his popsicle.
Sachirou speaks first.
“Did you hear? Kageyama’s boyfriend is coming over from Sendai for the surprise."
“Oh, yeah. Hinata and Yachi have mentioned it.” Kourai pauses. “Quite a lot.”
“Yeah, well. They’ve been friends with Kageyama and his boyfriend since high school. It makes sense they’d be excited about it too.” Kourai hums in agreement. “What was his name again?”
Kourai places the popsicle in his mouth as he looks up, jogging his memory. Sachirou tries not to stare at his blue lips.
“Tsukishima, was it?”
“Ah, right. Tsukishima.” Sachirou takes a breath. “That’s cute.”
“What is?” Kourai turns to look at Sachirou, curiosity seeping through his voice. The speed of his response was almost hilarious to Sachirou, tongue obviously holding himself from clicking in his mouth.
“His name. Moon Island. It’s cute.” Sachirou stares straight ahead, not bothering to look in Kourai’s direction. He very carefully says his next words. “You guys are sort of matching.”
Now, Kourai t\fully twists himself at this. Matching? With Tobio’s boyfriend? Huh?
At the look on Kourai’s face, Sachirou starts to explain himself.
“Hoshiumi means sea of stars, doesn’t it? Star Ocean and Moon Island. It’s a good fit.” It’s true, the coincidence is… interesting, in a sense. However, Kourai fails to see what exactly the point is.
Kourai tries to ignore the way his heart jumped at how easily Sachirou remembered the intricacies of his name.
“I don’t see what you’re trying to do here.”
“I’m not trying to do anything. I’m just pointing it out.” The door chimes beside them, the last of the other midnight grocery store visitors finally exiting the establishment. They both turn to watch the pair’s steps linger across the concrete. “It’s not everyday you see a perfect match like that.”
Kourai’s eyes turn towards Sachirou, watching as he puts his sundae cone up to his lips, and takes a part of it in his mouth.
Kourai doesn’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the lights? The neon shining against Sachirou’s hair, coloring him in blinding shades of blue and white. Maybe it’s the stars, with how delicately they shine over the sky, reflecting against the gloss of Sachirou’s eyes.
Maybe it’s Sachirou’s lips, with the soft expanse of pink disrupted by the line of white ice cream across it.
Kourai watches as Sachirou’s tongue wipes it away. He misses a spot.
Right there. On the corner of Sachirou’s lips.
Kourai still doesn’t know what it is. He doesn’t care.
With barely any thought, he leans in, going straight for the ice cream left on Sachirou’s lips. He kisses the corner of the brown-haired boy’s mouth, gentle and sweet.
Literally, sweet. The taste of the vanilla sundae mixes with the blueberry tint of his tongue.
Sachirou stares at Kourai, eyes wide and filled with shock. His eyebrows are furrowed, confusion dripping into his face, like the ice cream in his hand.
Kourai sees it. He catches the moment Sachirou realizes what exactly Kourai has kissed away. And he watches, at how the boy’s lips curl into a smile.
Kourai almost dies right then and there.
It’s Sachirou’s turn to lean in this time, his lips landing square on Kourai’s mouth. He sinks, deeper and deeper into Kourai’s taste, the flavors mixing on their tongues.
Kourai’s free hand reaches to hold Sachirou’s face, pulling him impossibly closer. Kourai kisses and kisses, until he’s unable to tell where the warmth is coming from.
From his lips, from his hands, from his heart. Warmth, comfort, fondness all over.
Sachirou’s hand rests against Kourai’s waist, and he almost melts right then and there. He feels the same hand run through his white locks, and all he can do is whimper.
Kourai can feel the way Sachirou, the bastard, smiles into the kiss. Kourai lets go first.
He takes a breath, chasing the oxygen and stealing it right back into his lungs. He speaks before his hands can pull Sachirou in once more.
“I knew it.” There’s a second of silence.
“What?” Sachirou seems just as breathless as Kourai. Kourai pauses carefully before speaking.
“You taste just as stupid as you look.” He tries to smile through his own words, the beating of his heart drowning everything else. He watches once more, as Sachirou smiles.
“And you.” Sachirou leans in for another peck, Kourai’s lips reacting in nothing short of a millisecond. He almost drops the sticky popsicle in his hand, at the want to pull Sachirou even closer. “You taste just as sweet as your words.”
Kourai rolls his eyes.
“Are you trying to be funny?” Sachirou doesn’t say anything in response, lips sealed in poorly veiled mirth. “I suggest you shut it, Sachirou.”
Sachirou’s lips move faster than his brain.
“Make me.”
—
“Yo, are those two dudes making out in front of the store?”
Tendou never really minded late shifts. There aren’t many people, and he’s always been a late sleeper, anyway.
One thing he’s sure of, though, is that he lives for the drama.
“What?” Hanamaki snaps his head up, eyes lingering away from the cash register. He squints at the window outside, and watches as a brown-haired boy towers of the short one with white hair.
Hanamaki can’t say the same about minding late shifts. Admittedly, though, the drama entices him just as much. “Woah. Yeah, pretty sure they are.”
“Damn. Alright then.” Tendou says, as he watches them, chin resting on his hand atop the counter. He sighs as if the oxygen in his lungs has personally irritated him, before he stands upright and grabs his phone. “This is making me miss my ‘Toshi.”
Hanamaki grimaces, rolling his eyes in a face of disgust before he starts recounting all the coins. “Can you keep those things to yourself?”
“No.” Tendou’s quick to reply. “Why don’t you message your little Mattsun to keep yourself busy?”
Tendou barely dodges Hanamaki’s punching arm. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Oh come on, my dear Hana-chan. Even Manager Kita-san knows you two have got something going on.” The noise of Tendou’s gum is seeping through Hanamaki’s brain, annoying as everything else about the man. “The tension during your shifts with him are tighter than a tightrope.”
Hanamaki stares at the redhead, mouth open like a blabbering fish. After a few failed attempts of figuring out what to say, he finally gives up, closing the cash register in front of him.
“I’m never taking any of Suna’s shifts ever again.”
Tendou’s bubble pops.
“Is that a promise?”