Archive of Our Own ^beta

“He’s just staring at his phone. Is he upset?”

“I honestly can’t tell today...well, any day really.”

“His eyebrows aren’t angry though, so maybe he’s just bored?”

“But he looks so focused?”

They’ve been doing this for two weeks now.

Daichi is not amused.

Can’t a man just play Sudoku on his phone in peace?

Daichi takes comfort in the fact that he’s sitting on the leather sofa. Tanaka and Nishinoya, meanwhile, are parked on the plastic chairs, the chairs that make your backside ache right throughout the lesson until the very end.

Serves them right, disturbing one of the few chances he has at unwinding during his work day.

It’s not that Daichi doesn’t like socialising with his colleagues. On the contrary, he’s one of the first to ask about their weekend, grab them a coffee or let them borrow (emphasis on borrow ) one of his top quality black biro pens. But when he has just finished teaching Maths to a bunch of rowdy, uninterested Year 8’s, he needs some time to relax. (Although, helping the shy boy with the freckles after class did somewhat make up for it. Tadashi had finally understood the quadratic formula, a feat that Daichi knew was down to his hard work. Next time he saw those bullies shouting ‘nerd!’ at him though, he’d give them double detention. On a Friday.)

“His eyebrow just twitched, I think he’s getting pisse-”

Daichi doesn’t give them time to finish the sentence. Slamming down the case of his phone as hard as he can, he twists his neck sharply to give them his signature glare.

Tanaka and Nishinoya turn away so fast Daichi swears he can hear their necks crick. It doesn’t bother him too much though. If it stops them from trying to guess his mood, he’s not complaining.

Besides, with the glare he just gave them, it looks like they don’t need to anyway.

“He actually heard us speak! We need to keep our voices down.”

Daichi finds it impossible to hide his surprise

...They thought they were being quiet?

Whatever. He only has 10 minutes left before Maths with Year 7’s.

Sighing heavily, he reopens the front case of his phone and continues his game of Sudoku.

***

“Ugh, I’ve got Year 7’s today for Biology.”

“Nah, I think they’re not so bad this year. A bit noisy maybe, especially the kid with the orange hair-”

The usual clamour in the staffroom is cut short by the headmaster’s arrival.

“Excuse me, everyone! Thank you. I’d like to introduce our newest member of staff, English teacher, Sugawara Koushi!”

Aware of everyone's gaze, Suga gives everyone a small wave.

“Oh, just call me Suga!” he adds, laughing a little nervously.

He scans the faces around the room. He’s excited, albeit nervous, but then again, it is his first day teaching in a new school. Sure, having experience helps, but so does having friendly, dependable coworkers.

He hopes it’s different this time.

The welcoming smiles on (most) of the teachers’ faces already sets him at ease. Letting his shoulders drop an inch, he scans the room again, taking in as much of the little details as he can.

She looks a bit nervous too, is she new like me?…His smile is so sharp....How is her hair so perfect? There are literally no strands out of place?...…

“Well, I’ll leave you in their hands, Sugawara-sensei! Take good care of him!”

The headmaster roars with laughter at himself, swivels around on one foot and marches out the door. (Suga notices that his hair shifts a little unnaturally as he moves but wisely decides not to comment on it).

It’s just him and the other teachers now.

Immediately, one of the staff, the woman with impeccable hair offers Suga a chair next to her. He’s very grateful; it allows him to skip the awkward silence before deciding where to sit. Suga thanks her and slips into the seat.

The woman introduces herself as Kiyoko Shimizu and gestures to the other staff, prompting them to follow. The younger woman beside her - “Yachi Hitoka!” - informs him in a rush of breath and a high pitched voice that she is one of the receptionists and “friends with Kiyoko!”, an explanation as to how she heard about her role. The man opposite her- “Tanaka Ryuunosuke!” announces his name with a dramatic jab with his thumb to his chest. Finally, the other man beside him who is facing Suga opens his mouth to speak and...oh.

He’d been so focused on the little details that he hadn’t noticed the bigger picture.

“Nice to meet you, Suga. I’m Sawamura Daichi”

And of course, Sawamura Daichi with his pristine, dust free suit, his shirt buttoned up right to his collar and a tie so straight it would put the headmaster himself to shame, offers him a handshake.

Suga gladly accepts it.

***

“Did you see how long that handshake was? The romantic tension hasn’t been this bad since Oikawa and Iwaizumi - and they already knew each other!”

Thankfully, with Daichi marking away in his classroom all alone, Tanaka and Nishinoya don’t have to fulfil the difficult task of lowering their voices.

Which is very good considering a) they still haven’t quite managed to grasp the ideal volume setting for when he is around and b) they’re not the only ones interested in discussing the soon to be hot gossip of the staffroom.

It’s a similar arrangement to yesterday, with Kiyoko sitting across from Tanaka - not by choice, but by calculation. She’s a smart woman, and if she’s right (which she most likely is), there’s a lot to be gained from this conversation.

“I think you’re exaggerating a little, Tanaka. Sawamura is always friendly with any new teacher.”

It also helps that Tanaka and Nishinoya have never made their affections for her a secret.

She sits up a little straighter, tucking away a nonexistent strand of hair behind her ear and widens her eyes a fraction.

Sure, she does feel a little bad taking advantage of them like this. They’re not bad people at all, but she can only take so much of the flowers and chocolates and ‘anonymous’ love letters. (And if this closes their jaws that drop when they see her wear a skirt, well, that’s an added bonus.) She’ll buy them an expensive gift, those sports uniforms they’ve been talking about for ages, to make up for it.

But more importantly, for that to happen, she needs to win.

“Well okay, maybe a little,” Nishinoya hesitates, “but still, that gaze was longing,” he exclaims. From his spot besides Tanaka, he twists his body to the side to face him, “longing!”

Tanaka agrees with a nod and Cheshire cat grin, arms crossed for greater emphasis.

Keeping her expression neutral, Kiyoko pushes her glasses up to the bridge of her nose, and places her hand on the table.

“Let’s see what happens.”

In her other hand, concealed under the desk, she checks her bank balance.

If this works out, everything will be perfect.

Friday 30th September

Suga glances at the calendar on his desk.

It’s the Friday of his first proper week and he is...surprisingly not that stressed.

Maybe it’s because of the coffee Sawamura had dropped off at his desk this morning, along with a reassuring smile and rolled up shirt sleeves, or maybe it’s because of the sun shining brightly through the window, scattering shadows across the desks, or maybe it’s-

Okay, it’s definitely Sawamura.

It’s just something about his face, his character, his voice. When Suga had accidentally let out his concern about not being able to engage the students, the clear conviction when he affirmed, “You can do it,” had made his entire day. And how could he forget the way he had followed it up by placing a hand firmly on his shoulder, the touch of which still feels like it’s burning through his shirt, imprinting onto his skin.

Sawamura has bought him coffee every single day. Today, this week and the last two weeks of induction without fail, not even allowing Suga to pay him back for it. Judging by the packet he occasionally brings along with him (effortlessly with those arms), there are other people depending on him for their morning fix too. He can’t remember the last time anyone at his old school even offered to make him tea, let alone buy him coffee.

It’s the Friday of his first proper week and Suga’s in too deep already.

He places his head in his hands, feeling the heat simmering on the surface of his cheeks. God, he’s acting like a teenager all over again, like one of the teenagers in his class.

“Are..are you okay, Suga?”

Suga jolts up in surprise, not expecting anyone else to walk into class.

He calms down when he sees it’s just Yachi. She’s been so sweet to him ever since he started, always greeting him with a chirpy ‘Hi!” when he walks past reception.

“Oh hello, Yachi! I’m okay, thanks, don’t worry!” He makes sure to smile even wider to reassure her that really, he is okay, just pining away pathetically at stupid Sawamura and his stupid face…

Stop getting distracted , Suga reprimands himself and focuses his attention on Yachi.

“What can I do for you?” he asks.

She fidgets a little with what Suga sees is a book in her hand, brushing her fingers over the rings around the spine before presenting it to him.

“It’s a diary from me and Kiyoko,” she explains, lowering it into his hands tentatively. “I like to make them for the new staff - Kiyoko helps me with the dates and colours and I do the handwriting and drawings. I chose light colours for you, a-and you mentioned liking shrimp so I drew a pattern on each page!”

Suga opens the diary, turning each page delicately and gasps. She’s actually drawn little shrimp borders in different colours at the bottom of each page, with an assortment of different sized stars and dots and lines framing the rest of the pages. There are even helpful notes under each day for events such as training days and sports days.

His heart, his entire body fills with warmth. How long must it have taken her to do this? So much creativity and dedication and passion went into this diary and he’s so grateful for it.

Mouth still open in awe, Suga realises he has yet to thank Yachi. He is quick to rectify this.

“This is absolutely amazing, Yachi!” he enthuses, “you did such a beautiful job with the drawings, I adore the shrimps so much, and the writing is so neat! Gosh, you didn’t have to do this for me!”

Yachi looks extremely pleased with his response, beaming at Suga’s praise. At the same time, she shakes her head in protest. “We always make them, it’s no trouble at all!”

We?...Oh, that’s right...Kiyoko...

Suga ponders for a second whether he should say anything but decides against it. It’s not his place to do so, especially at work.

Still, he continues to gush to Yachi about the diary. He learns that she was stuck between five different designs until Kiyoko helped her pick one out and that their dog nearly ripped out a large chunk of the book. That’s it. He decides as soon as he finishes work, he’s going to buy a collar for the dog, add in some squeaky toys and maybe a dog tag, along with a lifetime’s supply of quality dog food to repay them for their kindness.

It’s definitely tied with Sawamura’s coffee now.

There’s five minutes left until class starts, so Suga thanks Yachi once again, waves goodbye and places the diary on his desk.

He can’t wait to start using it.

***

Even if he hadn’t been admiring the way Sawamura’s shirt stretches over his back, Suga would have still chosen to sit by him.

The staff room is quieter today. Iwaizumi is sitting in the far corner talking with Oikawa and Yahaba. Kiyoko and Yachi are on the sofas huddled over a magazine, Yachi’s eyes shining with interest. Then there’s Sawamura in the armchair by the sofa, hunched over a textbook.

Not wanting to interrupt any of the seemingly established groups, Suga heads over to Sawamura’s corner.

“Is it okay if I sit here?” he asks politely. Sawamura looks rather engrossed; he doesn’t want to disturb him as well.

Sawamura looks up at him from his textbook, and for a moment Suga thinks he’s made the wrong decision, but then the neutral expression on his face mellows out as he points to the seat in front of him with an open palm. Suga thanks him and plops down into the armchair.

“Sorry for interrupting, you can carry on reading, I’ll just be on my phone anyway-”

“It’s okay, really,” Daichi assures him, widening his smile. “It’s not that important, I was just double checking to see if this textbook covers the material I need for tomorrow’s lesson.”

Suga nods. He can relate. The last thing any teacher wants is to find out the resources they need for their subject aren’t up to date with the syllabus. The worst part is, half the time, it’s the official textbooks that are ancient.

He huffs internally. Bloody exam boards.

Not wanting to reply with his frustration and distract Sawamura even more (at least, until he finishes checking the textbook), Suga rifles through his bag and with a small “aha!” pulls out the planner.

Looking around the staffroom, he notes that apart from the holy trinity of necessary supplies for any staff room (tea bags, sugar and digestives) there’s no other food out on the counter. Now he thinks about it, he can’t recall seeing any throughout his two weeks that he’s been here.

Just like his old school.

Except this time, in a new environment, with new, different staff, maybe he has a chance to change it.

He was planning on making some anyway, but now he has even more of a reason to do so.

Opening the diary with care, he pulls off the pen clipped to the front and jots down a reminder.

Thursday 6th October

• Make cupcakes for tomorrow!

Suga finishes off the sentence with a triumphant dotting of his exclamation mark and closes the planner.

He might have done it a bit too loudly though, because Sawamura looks back up at him again.

Suga curses himself for getting too excited. He’s about to apologise but Sawamura just closes the textbook, lays it down on his lap and reaches into his bag to pull out a diary of his own.

“Yachi and Kiyoko’s diaries are very good, aren’t they?”

He grins, and Suga melts into his chair.

There’s something so endearing about this man holding onto a planner which has a suit and tie drawn on the cover (just as gorgeous as the ones he wears), presenting it proudly as if it were his child, complete with a goofy smile on his face. It’s refreshing to see Sawamura so openly pleased about something that other people - other men - would rather hide away at the bottom of their bags or even replace entirely without a second thought.

In the midst of his appreciation, Suga had failed to notice another very important detail.

Oh no.

Sawamura has dimples.

Suga is officially a goner.

Friday 7th October

• Bring in cupcakes!
• Print off activity sheets for Ennoshita
• Link Yahaba to last year’s examiner report

Am I dreaming?

He pinches himself. Nope. Definitely awake.

Still, he’s in shock.

There, spread out on the table, right in front of his eyes, are twenty uniform chocolate cupcakes, complete with a generous amount of perfectly swirled vanilla frosting.

I’m in heaven , Tanaka thinks, drooling at the wonderful sight before him.

He wastes no time reaching out to grab one -

***

“Uh uh, those are for Kiyoko and Yachi.” Suga taps Tanaka’s hand lightly and whisks away the tray before he can inhale half of them.

Poor Tanaka’s face wilts, all the light from his eyes fading away, and Suga has to bite back a smile. He likes that Tanaka’s always so expressive, from the constant encouragement he never fails to give to his students, even if he sees them outside of class in the corridor, to the cheers and whoops when his class wins one of the unofficial staff competitions that they always seem to be having.

Suga decides not to leave him hanging for too long; he’s not mean. (Crafty, but not mean).

He jerks his head toward the fridge. “The ones for everyone else are in there if you want. Oh, and I’m free to cover you for the 10 minutes at the beginning of Biology if you want!”

At the same time as he yells “Thanks!”, Tanaka launches forward like a Year 11 class at the end of the last lesson on a Friday.

“Leave some for the rest!” Suga calls out.

Hearing a muffled ‘Okay!’, Suga just shakes his head and smiles.

Friday 21st October

• Get Suga’s coffee.
• Print off activity sheets for Monday.
• Update Sudoku app.

Daichi strolls into the staffroom and is met with silence. Perfect. He’s been itching to play a few more levels of Sudoku to relax from the previous lesson. Why couldn’t all his Year 7’s be as enthusiastic as the one’s in the front row? He’d have to look for more teaching activities online once he was home.

To make the situation even better, just as Tanaka had informed him (followed by an exaggerated ‘mwah!’ and an ‘OK’ hand sign),  it looked like Suga had indeed bought more than enough cupcakes in for everyone. Daichi wonders how much money he spends shopping for ingredients; there’s still ten remaining on the platter, and there’s 5 minutes left before the end of lunch bell rings.

Suga could give the cooking teacher, Aone Takanobu, a run for his money, he thinks. They look so tempting that Daichi already knows he’s going to be jogging for an extra half an hour tomorrow morning.

And, to his delight, they taste even more exquisite than they look. The buttercream is smooth, not too rich, and the cake is light and airy. He’s not one for fanciness or a frills, but he has to admit the swirls look very professional, and the sprinkles seem like they were placed individually, with equal spacing around each one.

Alongside his coffee, they are absolute perfection.

He must compliment Suga on his baking skills.

As if by magic (although Daichi knows there is no such thing), Suga enters the staffroom.

Except he’s not alone.

There’s a student with him, a young boy. It’s apparent he’s been crying, still is, though his sobs are muffled by Suga’s arm wrapped tightly around his shoulder.

Suga looks up and makes eye contact, a silent plea. He doesn’t even need to speak before Daichi plants his mug on the desk, with the sound of the clink as it hits the table echoing behind him as he dashes over to the pair.

“I’m sorry, I thought I should get him some water so I came here instead of the classroom-”

Daichi doesn’t let him apologise, cuts him off with an “It’s okay,” before guiding the student to the sofa with a gentle hand on his back, comforting and secure. He sinks into the seat next to him, while Suga dashes over to the water fountain, grabbing a plastic cup to fill up.

“Now, what’s wrong?” Daichi asks in a steady voice. Now that the student’s face is no longer buried in the fabric of Suga’s sleeve, he can see who it is. His heart sinks. It’s Tadashi, the hardworking boy in his class who always listens attentively and completes his homework yet doubts his own ability. Daichi fears he already knows what he’s going to say.

Tadashi hiccups out a few more sobs, his chest heaving fast before responding.

“They p-pushed me...on the field...called me names.”

“Who called you names?” Daichi questions, trying to keep the anger out of his voice.

Tadashi just shakes his head and wipes his tears with his sleeve.

Suga strides back to the sofa, glass of water in hand and places it carefully into the student’s palms. Slowly, he lowers himself down to sit beside Tadashi, who gulps down the water and thanks him.

“Tadashi,” Daichi emphasises his name, “we can help you more if we know who pushed you.”

But Tadashi just shakes his head again with even more worry etched onto his face. His lip starts to wobble again, but he sits up straight and Daichi can see he is making an effort not to cry any more.

Daichi is about to ask him if he could at least describe what they look like when Suga speaks instead.

“Hey, Tadashi. Would you like some more water?”

Tadashi gives the tiniest of nods, and Suga glances toward Daichi, a silent command.

It’s a sign of trust that Daichi gets up and complies.

He can’t see their faces with his back towards them as he walks to the fountain but he can hear their words cut through the silence of the staffroom.

“Have you told anyone else about this?”

Silence.

“Which lesson do you have at the end of lunch?”

“B-biology,” comes the shaky reply.

“Okay, I can let Tanaka-sensei know that you can’t come. I can say you’re not feeling well. Is that okay?”

Silence. Without being able to see them, Daichi is unsure whether Tadashi had nodded or shook his head.

“That’s fine, I’ll write you a note then and get any work you miss from him.”

Daichi walks back to the sofa and gives Tadashi the cup, who whispers a soft thanks and takes a few sips. Daichi notices that his breathing is still slightly erratic and takes this as a cue not to interfere. Instead, he sits on the opposite side of the two, avoiding the impulse to question him further. If only he could suspend them on the spot, help Tadashi feel at ease, but alas he does not hold those kind of privileges.

“Are you in any clubs, Tadashi?” Suga’s voice is soothing and it warms Daichi to see that Tadashi is no longer crying. A feeling of relief spreads throughout his body. He’s so thankful that Suga was the one to notice and help him.

Tadashi places his cup on the table before answering, “Just Physics and Maths club.”

When he mentions Maths, Tadashi glances briefly at Daichi. Before he can look away, Daichi offers him a proud smile and a thumbs up. Tadashi responds with a smile of his own, albeit weaker, and hangs his head back down again.

It seems Suga is having none of that.

“You should join Creative Writing club. Better than boring Maths, eh?” he jests, nudging him a little with his elbow. Simultaneously, he peers over at Daichi, his face the picture of innocence. Meanwhile Daichi crosses his arms over his chest, a motion that Suga follows with his eyes, before he retorts.

“Hmph, English teachers think they’re so superior.”

“That’s because we are,” Suga fires back with no hesitation.

They’re both fixated on each other, eyes locked in personal competition when suddenly, he hears a giggle.

Daichi breaks away from his battle with Suga to see Tadashi is laughing quietly into the palm of his hand. Granted, it only lasts a few seconds but the sight and the sound uplifts him. For the second time, Daichi feels nothing but gratitude towards Suga.

At that moment, the bell rings.

With no time to waste, Daichi pushes himself off the sofa to grab his bag, muttering a quick apology stating he needs to leave to teach his next lesson, but not before grabbing the tray of Suga’s cupcakes on the counter and nearly shoving it under Tadashi’s nose.

“Try one,” he insists. “They’re amazing.” He means it.

He doesn’t miss the way Suga’s face lights up at his compliment, and the memory stays with him, right until the end of the day long after the final bell rings.

He reaches over to ruffle Tadashi’s hair, waves them goodbye and heads off to outrun his students to his own classroom.

(He gets there with one minute to spare.)

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Saturday 22nd October - Sunday 30th October

HALF TERM HOLIDAYS

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Thursday 11th November

• Buy Suga’s coffee.
• Mark Year 8’s homework.
• Ask Ennoshita how to post a tweet for the department twitter account.
• Buy 2 extra revision books for Year 9 Maths.
• Check up on Tadashi’s incident report.
• Ask Sugawara for a pen.

As always, Daichi knocks on the door before opening it.

It’s the first time his palms have been so sweaty.

He’s just going to ask Suga, if he can borrow a pen. Why is he so nervous?

There’s no time to wipe them with a tissue; he's already opened the door. At least he won’t be shaking Suga’s hand again; he’d be mortified if Suga felt how clammy his hands were.

Not that he doesn’t want to feel Suga’s hands.

He needs to terminate this train of thought immediately.

Focus!

A thing that is very hard to to do when he sees Suga.

He’s standing at the front of his class, in a pale blue shirt and grey trousers. Where his sleeves are rolled up, the blue of his shirt complementing his pale skin, Daichi can see moles scattered across his forearms. It’s apparent that he’d been reading aloud - he’s holding a book in his hands, slightly worn out and dog-eared with affection, carrying it tight so it doesn’t fall out of his grasp. It strikes Daichi that the class were silent even before he entered; the only change in noise being the added silence when Suga had stopped reading and lifted his head up to look him.

Oh.

Suga’s looking at him.

Or rather, Suga’s beaming at him.

Usually, when it came to describing someone he liked, Daichi would tell himself he was exaggerating, let logic put some sense into his thoughts. Words like beaming are intense and emotional and should be reserved for at least the third date.

But now, with Suga standing there, light hair drenched with the rays of the morning sun, Daichi really can’t find any other word for the way he is grinning at him from ear to ear.

Daichi cringes at his own thoughts.

“Oh, Sawamura-sensei, hi!”

How is he so cheerful at 9:30am in the morning? Daichi thinks, incredulous. He can wake up at 5am for a jog but teaching is a different matter. Not that he doesn’t enjoy it, helping his students figure out their own way to the answer,seeing that moment where it clicks in their mind. But Daichi’s been teaching for five years now and he’s well acquainted with the stress it can bring.

However, it seems like Suga is already doing an impressive job, considering how quiet the class is.

He realises a little too late that the reason it is so silent now is most likely because everyone else and Suga are waiting for his response.

He clears his throat, hoping the action will clear his mind as well.

“Ah...I was just wondering, do you have a pen I could borrow?” he asks, willing his voice not to crack like the Year 9’s in his class.

At once, Suga folds the book over, using his thumb as a bookmark and does a half-jog towards his bag. Rummaging around between his folders, Suga finally picks out a pen with a little ‘Aha!” and walks briskly back to Daichi to hand it over to him.

Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea because now he can see Suga up close.

...

Is it strange to notice how long someone’s eyelashes are?

There’s a different smile on Suga’s face, more muted, softer round the edges. The left side of his mouth is tugging up higher than the right, and Daichi can’t help but find it cute. He blinks lightly, once, twice and takes Daichi’s breath away.

Stay professional Sawamura!, he scolds himself. Hastily, he takes the pen (which is patterned with...shrimps?) from Suga’s hand, careful only to graze his smooth palms with his fingertips and not with the entirety of his own sweat soaked hands.

Still looking directly into Suga’s eyes, he thanks him sincerely for the favour.

Of course, there’s always that one student who has to make life difficult for Daichi.

“But Sawamura-sensei, don’t you always have a pack of pens in your bag?”

Daichi grits his teeth.

He’ll have to speak to the headmaster about making the detention policy less stringent.

Friday 12th November

• Bring in sweets for students
• Meeting with the head to lower trip costs
• Ask for shrimp pen back???

They wait until Sawamura closes the door before they start.

Straight away, Nishinoya, Tanaka and about three other teachers scramble to sit around Kiyoko’s table.

“Did you see the pen he was using just now? It’s got shrimps on it! It’s blue ink! ”

“Oh my god, doesn’t Suga like shrimps?”

Nishinoya and Tanaka gasp at each other open-mouthed, looking exactly like some of their own students do when they discuss the latest gossip on the field.

“So we’ve established that Sawamura most likely received the pen from Suga. But don't you think he’d have given it back by now?” Ennoshita says calmly. There’s no need to jump to conclusions at this point.

“Exactly! He still hasn’t given it back. So that must mean he can’t bear to part with it!”

“You’re making this sound way more dramatic than it actually is,” Yaku points out.

“You know, Nishinoya does have a point.” Yahaba is no stranger to small gestures like this. He’s been at the school long enough since the inception of When Will They with Incident #1 being Oikawa and Iwaizumi. (Embarrassingly enough, Incident #2 was himself and Kyoutani). 

If it weren’t for the reward, Yahaba would have warned Sawamura and Suga by now.

“Now I think about it, I don’t think I’ve seen Sawamura write with anything else besides his black or green marking pen…what do you think, Kiyoko?”

All Kiyoko responds with is a miniscule shrug and a sip of tea.

The slam of the door against the wall makes everyone jump, the start of a chain reaction causing a few to scatter away to other seats.

Ah. It’s Suga. Glorious, wonderful Suga, who’s had to kick the door open in order to get through with two large containers  stacked in his arms, the contents of which the group are enormously thankful for.

Suga will never ask for help, but the staff will gladly offer anyway. They like him for much more than his baking; Suga helps them out, be it with lessons plans or classroom activity ideas or even just grabbing them a quick snack without being asked. He seems to have a sixth sense for these kind of things, knowing exactly how and when to cheer everyone up.

Now they feel kind of bad for talking about him.

(That doesn’t stop them from sneaking cupcakes into their bags when Suga turns away from them.)

Monday 14th November

• Buy Suga’s coffee.
• Meeting with the headmaster at 7am.
• Mark Year 10’s homework.
• Double check Ennoshita’s presentation.

“As you all should know from the email which I sent out last week, we need to prepare for the charity day in three weeks time. Besides the bake sale we have every year and paying a pound for non-uniform, we need other ideas to raise more money.”

Suggestions pass around the room, a “raffle” here and a “sports day” there but Tanaka doesn’t pay much attention to them. He’s more interested in the message he’s just received on his phone that he’s hiding under the desk.

When Will They, Incident #3

Nishinoya: uGH have you seen the way Suga and Sawamura keep looking at each other

Tanaka’s not even surprised. Making sure the headmaster isn’t looking, he turns his head to look at both of them. Of course, they’re sitting next to each and yep, that was a side glance from Suga to Sawamura just now. Ten seconds later, predictably, Sawamura leans closer to Suga, making their shoulders touch just a fraction. Tanaka doesn’t know whether it was a conscious movement or not, but what he does know is that it’s pretty damn gay.

They’d work together so well, he thinks. Why they keep dancing around each other is anyone’s guess. It's in the little things they do, the way Sawamura shares inside jokes with Suga, who sets aside more cupcakes and cookies just for him and, according to Ennoshita, visits his classroom more often. One time, he had even told Sawamura off and survived the process. Tanaka feels blessed to have witnessed such a miracle.

It looks like he’d just have to take matters into his own hands.

He waits for the opportunity to present itself, along with the right timing.

“Any questions before we finish?”

“Yes,” Tanaka says, preparing to strike.

“What is the policy on relationships between staff?”

From the corner of his eye, Tanaka sees Sawamura choke on his water.

The headteacher frowns and steeples his hands.

“Well, it is allowed, so long as it doesn’t interfere with work and isn’t made into a spectacle. Why? Is there someone you have in mind, Tanaka?”

Now it’s Tanaka who chokes.

“N-no, not me! I was just curious! In general, you know.” He waves his hands around wildly, convincing no-one.

“Right. Well, if that’s all, then we can end the meeting.” The headmaster brushes a piece of his hair aside, with the rest following in sync. No-one dares to comment.

As the headmaster retreats, Tanaka gets out his phone again and fires off a short message.

To: When Will They, Incident #3

Tanaka: Things are gonna get interesting ;)
Yaku: Please they’ll probably just keep glancing at each other and not do anything else
Tanaka: I believe in them
Yahaba: You sound like a parent
Tanaka: I am simply giving them parental guidance
Tanaka: which is what their rating is gonna be after what I just did ;)
Yahaba: how long have you been waiting to use that
Tanaka: About 2 weeks
Nishinoya: THAT WAS AMAZING OMG
Yaku has left When Will They, Incident #3
Tanaka: SMH he just couldn’t handle my sick joke
Ennoshita: aren’t you going to add him back?
Tanaka: A parent must know when to leave their child to reflect on their actions
Ennoshita has left When Will They, Incident #3
Tanaka: ENNOSHITA
Nishinoya: ENNOSHITA

“Er, are you all coming back to the staffroom or…?”

Everyone in the group looks up in one synchronized movement at Suga, who is hovering by the door. He’s giving them a puzzled look but doesn’t say anything.

Tanaka jumps up out of his chair and barks out a “Yep!” before rushing through the door.

Suga raises an eyebrow.

***

Ennoshita sighs in despair. Subtlety is not Tanaka’s strong point.

Fixing Suga what he hopes is a normal, friendly smile, he exits, praying that Sawamura and Suga stop dragging out their obvious feelings for each other.

Tanaka has added you to When Will They, Incident #3
Tanaka: oh my god guys please come to the staffroom and save me Sawamura’s talking about how Suga told him he played volleyball help

Tanaka: Please can we forget the rule about not directly interfering I just want to tell him to make out with Suga
Kiyoko: No
Tanaka: I can’t take much of this he has that fond smile on his face and everything PLEASE SMS SAVE MY SOUL

Ennoshita glaces to the side at the wall, as if looking into a invisible camera, wondering how his life has come to this.

***

“Isn’t it funny how he was a setter and I was a spiker, imagine if we had been on the same team, I would have spiked his tosses.”

Daichi hears Tanaka snort. “Easy on the innuendos, Sawamura.”

For the second time that day, Daichi chokes.

“What - I wasn’t making an - don’t say that!” Daichi scowls, putting as much intimidation into his glare as he can. For once, it doesn’t do much.

“Are you kidding me? C’mon, you clearly-” Tanaka stops abruptly and the pause afterwards makes it seem like he has no intention to continue.

But Daichi’s never been one to give up so easily. “Clearly what, Tanaka?” He dares him to finish, the threat clear in his tone.

Tanaka mumbles, “Never mind.”

That’s right , Daichi thinks, the glare always works.

Maybe he’s being harsh, but Daichi’s anger always takes a while to simmer. When he’s not so pent up, he’ll buy Tanaka that chocolate milkshake he loves later on when he buys Suga’s coffee.

“If you could date any of the staff, who would you date?”

Well, that’s one less beverage to buy then.

Daichi whips his head round and Tanaka shrinks away behind the armchair. Maybe he spoke too soon. He’d have to refine the glare.

He takes a long, slow sip of coffee from his mug, making sure to maintain direct eye contact with Tanaka, waiting for the third bead of sweat to drip down his face.

Placing the mug down on the table, he walks over to Tanaka, slow, like a predator stalking its prey.

In one swift motion, he punches his arm.

Smirking as he walks toward the staffroom door, he doesn’t miss Tanaka’s yelp of pain.

“Ow! Your punches are just as bad as Suga’s!”

Suga...

He turns to look at Tanaka over his shoulder, each second stretching out as his brain contemplates each word of Tanaka’s question.

(But if he’s honest with himself, he’d already had an answer the second Tanaka had asked him.)

Friday 18th November

• Bring in the cookies (put Sawamura’s separate!)
• Bring in coloured paper and stickers for posters.
• Mark Year 7’s short stories.

Suga hums as he enters the staffroom, hip checking the door as he peers over the trays towering in his grip to avoid tripping over.

He’s gotten to know more of the staff now and even though, as with any workplace, there are established friendships and groups, everyone has been more than happy to move up along the sofa or fetch an extra chair for him and update him on the current topic of conversation. It’s a stark contrast to the dull, intimidating silence of his previous school’s staffroom, one that he's immensely grateful for.

And so, while he does expect to see some of those groups scattered around discussing their day or letting off steam, what he doesn’t expect is to see a group of about six teachers hunched around a table as they stare at him with matching, albeit varying degrees of alarm.

Quite frankly, they look suspicious as hell.

“Hello, everyone,” Suga says, the usual enthusiasm in his voice replaced by wariness, “I just made a few cookies for today. There’s some white chocolate chip and strawberry - Oikawa’s favourite, peanut butter - so none of those for you like Nishinoya with your allergies - and also chocolate chip. I hope they taste okay!”

(Even Ennoshita can’t pretend to be cool and calm when it comes to Suga’s baking; his hand flies out towards the chocolate chip. In a game of Suga’s baking, you either win or leave or spend the rest of your day wishing you had reacted faster).

“What’s that other tray there for, Suga?” Tanaka asks, munching on his peanut butter cookie in a way that reminds Suga of a hamster.

Suga looks at the unopened fourth tray, biting his lip. “Oh, that’s for Sawamura. He always brings coffee in the mornings, so I thought I’d bring some extra ones in for him - and his students, of course. It’s lovely of him to bring everyone coffee in the morning everyday, isn’t it?”

His facial expression falters slightly when all of a sudden, everyone goes quiet. Did he say something wrong? Was he not meant to say that? Was he supposed to keep a secret for some reason?

“He brings you coffee every day?” Yahaba says, slightly amazed, though it sounds more like a statement than a question.

Suga stammers. “W-well yeah...I assumed he bought everyone coffee? He has a bag with him full of other coffee orders sometimes.”

The realisation dawns on him before he finishes his sentence.

Tanaka chuckles loudly. “I mean, yeah, he brings me coffee when he knows I have Biology with Year 7’s in the morning, and boy am I grateful, but wow, not every single day! You’re a lucky man, Suga.”

“Huh?” Suga mumbles, still in a daze with this newfound revelation.

That pesky feeling, hope, rises in his chest.

He does that just for me?

Still somewhat bewildered, he looks up at all the teachers surrounding him in a semicircle. They look pleased, satisfied, even smug.

He feels like there’s something else he’s not quite getting here.

Pushing that to the back of his mind, he turns around, if only to hide the blush starting to bloom over his cheeks. Once he’s sure no one can see him, he lets his face transform, biting his lips to stop himself from grinning and making his cheeks ache. Here he is, acting like a teenager again, but he just can’t stop the Olympic gymnasts in his stomach, backflipping away every time he so much as thinks about Sawamura.

Aaaand exhale.

Suga gives himself a moment to breathe and then turns back around. He’s met with Tanaka’s toothy grin, a small smirk from Ennoshita and a quick thumbs up from Nishinoya. Even Kiyoko, who is usually quiet and calm has a knowing twinkle in her eye that speaks so much louder than any words she could say. But there’s also an underlying sense of care, like he’s a baby bird about to leave the nest, and they are all watching over him as he prepares to fly.

(Wow, okay, his thought process is stranger than normal. Maybe Sawamura spiked his coffee this morning - no, he’d never do that. Or maybe he’s still trying to adjust his brain to the fact - the potential - that his feelings are…could be....reciprocated.)

It’s a weird moment, but also a comforting one.

At this new school, in a new environment with new people, Suga feels like he’s close to home.

Monday 28th November

• Buy Suga’s coffee.

• Write Tadashi’s praise postcard.
• Give Iwaizumi his paper clips before lunch.
• Check through Tanaka’s assembly powerpoint.
• Ask Ennoshita for his relatable hashtag for the maths revision twitter account.

It’s become their morning routine now, has been for a long time.

Daichi will knock on his door, 20 minutes before class starts, and bring him coffee and Suga’s eyes will shine and give him what he deems to be a suitable payment in return.

Most of the time it’s his baking, which Daichi couldn’t refuse even if he wanted to. (There’s also the fact that Suga punched him in the arm after the second week of coffee and absolutely refused to drink the coffee unless he let him give him something in exchange. Daichi had swallowed his pride and agreed). They’ll take about their day, their plans, their lives, and with every twenty minutes of talk each day, Daichi feels like the universe is helping him make up for lost time.

Daichi slides into the chair opposite Suga’s desk like he’s a student himself. It’s a comical sight; his broad frame and large build, according to Suga, makes him look like he’s gotten stuck in a tricycle. The sound of Suga’s laughter had made it worth the humiliation.

Wait. Strange. Suga hasn’t spoken since he sat down, and usually he’s the one to initiate the conversation. Daichi looks up to see what’s wrong.

Suga’s staring at the coffee cup with an expression he can’t quite figure out. Confusion? Annoyance? He turns the cup around slowly, examining the side with interest. Daichi opens his mouth to ask what’s wrong, offer him a replacement for his lunch break if necessary.

He doesn’t expect the sentence that comes out of Suga’s mouth.

“Ooooh, Sawamura, looks like you have an admirer,” he teases with a cheeky smile.

Daichi is taken aback.

“What?”

Suga’s mouth is doing the same thing as before; one side quirking up higher than the other, except it’s much less warm and much more mischievous. Daichi can see the amusement crinkling around his eyes and it hits him how much he loves seeing Suga happy. It’s infectious; it makes him happy too.

He’s still confused though.

It must be evident in his expression because in one swift motion, Suga spins the cup round and taps his fingernail on the side that is facing him.

Oh.

Scribbled on the cup is a ‘Call me after work’ followed by a number in large black pen right under his name and...is that an ‘x’ at the end too?

Daichi thinks back to this morning. He can’t recall his usual barista acting any different. She had greeted him with her sunny smile, to which he’d nodded, complimented his shirt, to which he’d thanked her, asked him what time he finished today, to which he’d said earlier than usual at 1 o’clock. Nothing noticeably different.

Except, apparently, for the fact that she’d been flirting with him.

Daichi sighs. He’s going to have to deal with this after work; he makes it a rule to not leave people hanging.

Which is exactly what he seems to have done to Suga, who is watching him intently. There’s something else in his gaze though, in the way he leans forward a touch. Impatience. He’s waiting for Daichi to answer.

And, as with most things, Daichi answers honestly and directly.

“I’m going to have to call her and apologise. She’s a sweet girl, but just not my type.”

He looks down in resignation and presses his lips together. She really is a lovely girl. He hopes she isn’t too hurt by his rejection. Maybe he’ll buy her that video game she’s been saving up for to show that he still wants to stay on good terms with her.

“So what is your type?”

Daichi’s head shoots up automatically before he can fully register what he's just heard.

Immediately, Suga closes his mouth and opens it again but no words are coming out. His eyes are like the size of the coffee cup lid and he’s still frozen, gawping at him.

Daichi decides to spare him any further embarrassment.

“Well, uh, for one, I’m not attracted to women so.” He gives an apparently nonchalant shrug, mostly to hide the fact that there’s the 10% of worry in his mind that Suga won’t react favourably.

It turns out he needs to decrease that value to 0%.

“Oh, that’s good. Me too, I mean, I don't like women either, in that way.”

The unspoken I like men - I like you - hangs in the air.

There’s a long stretch of silence before Suga speaks.

“Hey, Daichi, before I forget, I’ve been meaning to ask...would you like to meet up and, um, do some marking together sometime?”

Daichi tries not to mix personal and work life too much...but it’s okay if it’s Suga, right?

And when Suga looks him at like that, eyes wide and kind and hopeful, how can he say no?

***

It’s been two weeks since Tanaka’s meddling and they still haven’t confessed.

Even Kiyoko is getting frustrated.

She’s trying to focus on what Yachi is telling her, she really is, but opposite her she can hear see Sawamura and Suga wrapped up in conversation. Suga is talking about what she thinks is a TV show about swimming, waving his hands around while Daichi nods attentively.

It’s a familiar scene, one she knows from experience. She hopes they won’t wait too long. The end result is always so worth it.

Kiyoko doesn’t usually drift away in thought, but it seems that she has because when she comes back to reality, she notices Suga has left the sofa and Yachi is now talking to Sawamura.

“Yeah, Suga is really nice, isn’t he? He asked if I wanted to meet up and do some marking with him.”

Kiyoko’s glasses fall down her nose an inch.

“Ah, Suga, thanks.”

“No problem, Daichi.”

Kiyoko narrows her eyes before pushing her glasses back up.

Now she knows how Tanaka feels.

“Shi-Kiyoko? Are you okay?”

It’s ironic that Yachi, the person who helps to lift her off the ground is now the person to bring her back down to earth.

Immediately, Kiyoko shakes her head.

“I’m okay, Yachi, really, carry on.”

Putting Sawamura and Suga at the back of her mind and turning to look at Yachi, she focuses on what’s important, the reason why she was observing them in the first place.

It’s right in front of her and she wants to cherish it forever.

Wednesday 7th December

• Bring in quiches for Daichi!
• Pack extra clothes for teachers race and sports day
• Bring in:
• 20 Chocolate chip cookies
• 20 Peanut butter cookies
• 20 Vanilla cupcakes
• Sponge cake
• Give Kiyoko the number for the florist
• Mark Year 10’s creative writing

Suga lets out a huge sigh of relief. Thank goodness, the cakes and quiches aren’t squashed. Even though it’s not just him who is bringing in food for the bake sale, Suga takes pride in his work; he’d hate for it to go to waste. He’s even remembered to pack the extra clothes. At this rate, he’s well on his way to become a fully functioning adult. He can hear his mother weeping tears of joy.

Now he just needs to carry it all to the field.

“Need a hand?”

That voice.

“Daichi!” Suga exclaims, though how much of it was surprise and how much of it was delight he doesn’t know. What he does know is that he wants the ground to swallow him up because the last time his voice cracked like that was probably back when he was in high school.

Sometimes Suga thinks the universe loves to torment him.

“If you don’t mind,” Suga manages to say.

Daichi walks towards him and lifts four of the trays with ease, balancing two on each arm.

“Where are you setting up?” Daichi asks.

“Just opposite the race track,” Suga replies.

They share a comfortable silence as they walk, filled with not so subtle glances and elbow grazes.

Finally, they reach the tables, laid adjacent in a long row. Some teachers have already arrived with their baking. Aone is labelling prices and sticking them onto each tray, having already set up his biscuits and carrot cake. Suga’s mouth waters at the sight.

He looks at his own display, at Aone’s, then at his own again. Jutting out his lower lip ever so slightly, he performs a mental comparison once more before he wishing that he’d spent more time on decoration.

A hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his thoughts. He knows whose it is before they even speak.

“Hey, your cakes look fine. Really. You worked hard on them and more importantly they’re yours .” With his other hand, Daichi rubs his neck before continuing.“ I’d buy all of them, but I don’t want to get a cramp during the race.”

The corners of Suga’s mouth are turning up and he lets them be. Daichi is right. They’re his, there’s no point comparing them. He just hopes the students will like them as much as Daichi seems to.

Behind them, Aone grunts, and they jump apart.

“Excuse me, Sawamura, Sugawara,” he intones, reaching between them to grab a box of labels.

After some awkward thumb twiddling (Suga) and intense gazing at the field (Daichi), Aone retracts his hand with the labels in tow to finish his set up.

Neither of them are quite sure what to say so instead they stand together, side by side, shoulders bumping occasionally as they work with each other to lay out the table.

***

“How the hell is Sawamura-sensei wearing nothing but a tank top? Isn’t he cold? It’s the middle of winter!”

“Why are you complaining? Look at his arms!”

If there’s one thing Suga’s form class fails at besides the occasional surprise quiz, it’s definitely whispering.

Suga had been laughing a minute ago, when Daichi had simply taken off his work shirt to reveal a tank top underneath as if he were Superman (thankfully, he’d already changed into his running shorts). But now, zipping up his jacket as he walks over to the start line, moving closer and closer to those bare arms, the joke’s on him.

Taking a positive view, Suga takes comfort in the fact that he gets to stand next to him, unlike the poor girls in his form who had tried to take sneaky pictures. Even though he’d sympathised with them to an extent, he’d had to confiscate their phones until the end of next week.

A small part of him can’t blame them though.

“Ready!” the headmaster bellows into the megaphone, accompanied by just the right amount of feedback to torture everyone’s ears.

Suga shoots Daichi a look, making it clear that he’s not going to go easy on him. The grin he receives in return indicates the feeling is mutual.

“Three, two, one...GO!”

***

Suga can’t believe he has the audacity, the nerve to shake his hand and say “Good job!” after he loses. Fourth overall is not bad, but Daichi coming second, ahead of him, and acting so chivalrous and about it?

He’s not going to stand for that.

“Pass me the sponge.”

A chorus of ‘Ooooh!” emanates from the crowd behind him.

In front of him, Daichi starts to sweat for the second time that day.

Up and down, Suga throws and catches the sponge, soaking with ice cold water, the noise of the wet slap as it hits his palm striking fear into the hearts of everyone present.

He raises his arm, loading it with just the right amount of force, calculating the angle, putting Daichi’s mathematics ability to shame and launches.

It hits Daichi square in the face and Suga comes to truly understand the meaning of ‘revenge is a dish best served cold’.

Thursday 8th December

To: When Will They, Incident #3
Tanaka: okay but is anyone else still thinking about Sawamura’s face after Suga lobbed the sponge at him because DAMN SON
Ennoshita: IT’S LITERALLY 3AM GO TO SLEEP
Ennoshita: AND STOP TRYING TO MAKE DAMN SON A THING IT’S NOT A THING
Tanaka: damn son someone’s not happy
Ennoshita has left When Will They, Incident #3

Sunday 11th December

• Meet up with Daichi for lesson planning at 12!!! (Don’t forget the mini cheesecakes!)
• Order another shrimp pen online
• Mark Year 10’s essays
• Prepare mock exam questions
• Prepare homework for Christmas holidays

Suga rings the doorbell as he rocks back and forth on his toes.

He’s mindful not to sway too much, not when he’s balancing a tray of mini cheesecakes in one hand while he uses the other to adjust the straps of his bags firmly onto his shoulder. The last thing he wants is to stumble and fling the cheesecake everywhere, especially when Daichi is hopefully about to open the door. Even though Daichi had kindly offered (or rather, insisted) to meet at his place, Suga wouldn't want to inconvenience him even more by assaulting him with chocolate and crumbs all over his shirt. (He’d done a damn good job of assault with the sponge on charity day anyway).

Wait, does Daichi still wear his smart shirts at home? He doesn’t want to stain any with his baking, he’d have to take it off and wash it which would be a bother and, oh, wait, rewind, he’d have to take his shirt off …

Evidently, the spectacle from charity day hadn’t been enough for him.

In the middle of Suga’s internal conflict of wanting to imagine Daichi with his shirt off but also see him dressed in casual clothes, the door opens.

Daichi is indeed wearing a smart shirt, but it’s layered under a snug blue jumper that highlights his arms wonderfully, and Suga takes a second to send a silent thanks to the manufacturer. Thankfully, he’s wearing jeans instead of smart trousers but even then Suga forces down his laughter. Of course Daichi would wear something like this as casual wear. Does he own any t-shirts? Or has he ripped them all with those muscles of his? Does he donate the remnants of fabric to charity? Suga doesn’t care that his brain is racing along at a million miles a minute because if he spoke now, he’d probably just croak like a frog.

Again, Daichi saves him, by speaking first.

“Hello, Suga! You’re here early! Come on in.” He opens the door wider and motions for Suga to enter.

Stepping inside, Suga pushes the door closed with his hip and takes a moment to look around Daichi’s flat.

It’s clean as expected, although he can see a tower of paper on the table, threatening to topple over. He assumes that it’s the marking Daichi wants to get done today. Looking around, everything feels like it’s been placed with purpose, from the angle of the sofas to the books on the shelf. There’s not very many, but they are lined up neatly with no creases down the spines. Overall, it’s not as eccentric or colorful as Suga’s taste but it’s calm and cosy and Daichi. Suga wants to make his name an adjective in his dictionary and discuss his many positive synonyms.

Speaking of the proper noun, Daichi moves to pick up the pile of paper and jerks his head toward the kitchen.

“We can use the counter in the kitchen, it’s bigger than the coffee table,” he explains as he walks, and Suga tries not to admire the fact that his jeans are as tight as his jumper.

Just because you’re not at work doesn’t mean you can let your thoughts be so unprofessional!

Suga busies himself by placing the tray onto the counter and resting his tote bag on the stool beside him. He pulls out the papers from his bag and dumps them on the counter with a huff before plopping into his stool and unwrapping the cling film from the cheesecakes.

“I wasn’t sure how much you liked sweet things so I made one with chocolate, one with strawberry and one with lemon meringue.” Suga points to each flavour before looking at Daichi to see his reaction.

“You’re killing me with calories Suga, I’m going to have to jog twice as much tomorrow.”

Suga rolls his eyes, both in amusement and relief. “Oh come on, you can take a break! I still can’t believe you wake up so early to jog.”

“Not all of us take an hour to get out of bed each morning,” Daichi retaliates.

“Hey, I thought I was your guest here!” Suga pouts, causing Daichi to chuckle.

“We work together. I have teasing rights. Don’t think I’ve forgotten that you came into my classroom last week and asked everyone to vote on whether English or Maths was better and then bribed everyone with cake.” Daichi says all this with a flat expression, but the twitch of his lips gives away his amusement.

“That wasn’t bribery, that was using my initiative.”

Daichi gives him a deadpan look. “If you say so,” he says flatly, “but I won’t buy you coffee on Monday just for that.”

Suga gasps with fake shock, placing a hand on his chest for extra flair. “You invite me into your home and then talk so rudely to me? Mark my words, Sawamura, if that’s the case then how about I take all these cheesecakes back home with me right now and give them to my dog.”

He’s standing up now, leaning over the counter which is pressing uncomfortably into his stomach but Suga doesn’t care, not when he gets to be so close to Daichi’s handsome, determined face.

“You have a dog?”

Okay. Suga wasn’t expecting their banter to end like that.

Daichi’s unwavering gaze is gone, now replaced by a less extreme, almost childish glee in his eyes. Suga is struck by how this man can exist as a living oxymoron, firm and gentle at the same time.

“Yeah, his name is Truffle he’s just a little puppy, but he’s the cutest. I have pictures on my phone!”

Suga hunts through his laptop bag with no luck and then digs around in his cardigan pocket. Victorious in finding his phone, he unlocks it and opens his gallery before shoving it excitedly into Daichi’s palms. But then he realises that he is missing out an opportunity to see his sweet Truffle so he leaps off the stool and walks round to stand next to Daichi, who is scrolling through the photos. Most are of Truffle alone but some have himself too and Suga swears that Daichi lingers on those photos for longer before swiping to the next.

“Cute,” Daichi mumbles, but Suga’s not sure whether it’s meant for him or Truffle.

Suga watches as Daichi’s smile, his goofy, charming smile, grows wider with each photo and his heart squeezes in his chest.

“Dogs are such great animals, I wish I had one,” Daichi gushes, “they are so dependable and trustworthy. ”

Before he can stop himself, Suga responds, “Just like you.”

Daichi blinks at him with surprise.

...Oh my god, I said that out loud.

Suga, in attempt to to make the situation less awkward and also show this dense man how wonderful he is, explains his reasoning.

“W-well, you always bring me coffee, every day at the same time without fail. You made sure Tadashi’s incident report went straight to the head and that he actually did something about it, no one at my old school would even bother. You know, Tadashi told me afterwards that you were one of his favourite teachers because you never made him feel silly if he didn’t know the answer to something simple,” Suga pauses to catch his breath before continuing, “You take the time to proofread presentations and reports even though you’re busy yourself, you bought extra books for your class with your own money - and we’re underpaid as it is - and Ennoshita told me you really helped him out with his first few presentations when he started.”

Suga could go on and on but judging by the startled expression on Daichi’s face, he decides to stay quiet and let his words sink in.

Daichi remains speechless for quite a while, and Suga starts to worry that maybe he was a bit too overwhelming, but then, finally , he speaks.

“I...Thank you, Suga.” He stops, then looks directly into Suga’s eyes.

Their faces are inches apart.

“I don’t think you give yourself enough credit though. You bake not just for me, but the entirety of the staff every week. You managed to get Tadashi to name the bullies and have it dealt it with fairly and he’s so much happier and confident because of it. Tanaka told me you always cover him or help him with activities, even though Biology isn’t your subject. You’re willing to help out at anytime for anyone. You gave a student your own copy of Romeo and Juliet that you’ve had it since your childhood. You literally have a dog named Truffle, it’s ridiculous.”

Suga is dumbstruck, even more so now that he see Daichi’s lips parting, can feel Daichi’s breath fanning over his lips. He’s read too many romance novels to know - to hope - about what will happen next.

“Ridiculous, selfless, kind,” Daichi continues to list words, utterances that, as they leave his lips, are shaped with affection.

“Beautiful.”

It takes that one word to close the distance between them.

Suga lets Daichi capture his lips, pull him close to his chest, and in his arms, Suga feels like he’s found home.

(Needless to say, they don’t get much marking done that day.)

Monday 12th December

• Buy Suga’s coffee.
• Meeting with staff about Christmas party at 4pm.
• Tell everyone about Suga.

It’s already happened. She can feel it.

Maybe it’s the sight of the roses in the half-filled jug that Sawamura had claimed were for his mother, or the fact that Suga had greeted Daichi by tickling him and wrapping an arm round his waist even though he needed no help balancing, or that Suga, upon receiving a cardigan from Daichi had turned pink as he thanked him, letting their hands linger for much longer than necessary.

Nevertheless, she needs to send a text right now.

To: When Will They, Incident #3
Kiyoko: I’m changing mine to Sunday.

She’s incredibly thankful that Sunday is free game; no one is allowed to choose the same day if it’s already taken.

She scrolls up her chat list, stopping when she sees her icon.

Even after all these years, her heart still skips a beat.

God, she can’t wait to win for her.

***

They walk in, hand in hand, arms swinging back and forth.

Silence.

They start to worry; maybe they didn’t think this through, maybe they’ve been too hasty, too open.

Before either of them can say anything, five piles of money are pushed across the table toward Kiyoko.

...What?

***

They’re curled up on the sofa in front of the fire. Yachi is drifting off, succumbing to the warmth of her arm and the heat settling around their living room.

With her free arm not wrapped around Yachi, Kiyoko checks her phone.

Tenderly, she smiles.

It’s more than enough for the engagement ring.