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Bokuto walks just ahead of Daishou, leaving him to stare at his back. They’ve been dating for a little while now, and Daishou is starting to learn that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for this man. It’s something that’s been weighing down on his mind. He knows that Bokuto wants this to work, and so does he. But he isn’t the only person Bokuto is dating.
Daishou comes to the conclusion that Bokuto will leave him if even one of his partners decides that Daishou isn’t good enough. And that scares him. He doesn’t want to let this go; he doesn’t want to let Bokuto go.
As if he can hear Daishou’s thoughts, Bokuto turns his head to look at him, smiling sweetly. His hand reaches out for the other’s in silent question. When Daishou sets his hand gently against his palm, Bokuto squeezes and tugs him closer. “What’s up? You’re being awfully quiet.”
Daishou shakes his head and pulls his scarf up. “Just… thinking.”
“’Bout what?”
He makes the mistake of looking into Bokuto’s eyes as he opens his mouth. I can’t lie to that face. Sighing, he says, “I don’t think your other boyfriends like me.”
Bokuto gasps. “That’s not true!” Daishou gives him a look, and he laughs. “Okay, so maybe they have some bad impressions, but that’ll go away when they get to know you.”
“Somehow, I don’t believe you. I’ve met Kuroo. Multiple times, unfortunately.”
Firmly, Bokuto grips Daishou’s arms, pulling him in before wrapping his arms around him. “He’s a good guy, and you are too! I think that, if you guys actually talked, you could be good friends.”
Daishou opens his mouth to protest and lets out a sharp exhale as Bokuto squeezes him tighter. Biting his lip, he thinks about how to tell Bokuto very gently that there’s no way he’s going to become friends with Kuroo. His hands grip the back of the other’s shirt, preparing to answer.
“Okay, I’ll try,” is what comes out of his mouth, and he curses his weak heart. “But I can’t guarantee anything.”
“That’s fine! I’m just glad you’re going to try!” Bokuto lets him go to grab his face, the touch featherlight. “Really. Thank you. I’m just… you know, being with you makes me really happy, and I wanna share this happiness with Keiji and Tetsu. And… and being friends will make that easier, right? We can hang out, and go to the movies, and go shopping together…”
Blushing a deep red, Daishou leans in, says, “Can I kiss you?” He watches Bokuto’s own blush spread on his cheeks and only presses his lips to the other’s when Bokuto nods shyly. The kiss is gentle and warm and loving, and he feels his heart soar.
Daishou never wants this to end.
Daishou wants this to end.
Akaashi sits at the table across from him, legs crossed, reading the menu of the café. His eyes, piercing and unreadable, glance up at Daishou every now and then.
They don’t speak. It’s awkward as fuck, and Daishou has suddenly lost all ability to carry a conversation. He doesn’t know why, but the slender man in front of him terrifies him.
Akaashi orders, the first thing he’s said since they sat at the table, and when Daishou says his own order, Akaashi’s mouth quirks into a smile. “You know,” he says once the waiter moves away, “that’s what Tetsurou usually gets.”
Daishou’s face scrunches up immediately. “God, don’t let him find out.”
“Why not?”
Shrugging, he says, “He’ll find some way to turn it into a fight.”
“Funny,” Akaashi places an elbow on the table and leans into his hand, “Tetsurou always says that about you.” Daishou, knowing damn well he starts about half of their fights, scoffs, but Akaashi isn’t finished. “I do hope you haven’t been fighting like that with Koutarou.”
Suddenly, Daishou feels like he’s being interrogated. It unnerves him, and that bothers him, because he just doesn’t understand what it is about Akaashi that makes him want to run.
Ah, Daishou thinks, looking into the other’s eyes. He looks like he wants to murder me.
Well, he isn’t gonna let (very rational) fear keep him from making his boyfriend happy. “I could never treat Bokuto that way. Have you seen him? I can’t even lie to his face.”
“I see,” Akaashi says. “So you don’t insult him.”
“Of course not. I’m… I like him. He deserves the world.” Daishou squints. “You don’t care that I fight with Kuroo?”
It takes Akaashi a long time to answer. “Tetsurou can be… antagonistic. I know the feeling. It must be worse with you, since you act a little more similarly.” The waiter comes back to deliver their coffee, and he waves his hand over the steaming cup. “I think, however, with the way you two go at each other’s throats, one of you is going to get hurt. Don’t get that far.”
Daishou presses his lips together and nods. The hidden threat in Akaashi’s words is easy to hear, but it’s unnecessary. Hurting Kuroo isn’t something he particularly wants to do. He drinks a bit of his coffee during the lull of their conversation and promptly burns himself. “Ow, fuck.”
Akaashi chuckles. “You know…”
“Please don’t tell me.”
The smile Akaashi gives him says everything.
Things with Akaashi continue after that; Daishou won’t say it’s a smooth ride with how wary they are around each other. But they have similar interests in books, and pastries, and the café meet-ups keep coming. Daishou finds himself liking Akaashi’s sharp tongue, his demeanor, his face…
Akaashi is very pretty, Daishou admits to himself. And the amount of vitriol he hides underneath that beautiful face doesn’t cease to amaze Daishou no matter how many times he witnesses it. He likes it. When it isn’t directed at him, of course.
Dating Akaashi feels natural, almost like they’d been doing it since the beginning.
Kuroo, however, is difficult, to put it mildly. He sulks, he argues, he interrogates (though nothing could be worse than Akaashi’s eyes when he thought Daishou was being shitty to Bokuto). It’s like he doesn’t even try to cooperate.
“Kuroo,” he says, typing on his phone as the man plops down in the seat across from him. “We really need to talk. I feel like…” Daishou trails off when he looks up.
Kuroo looks like shit. Daishou tells him as much, and the other snarls, a short, “Thanks,” thrown his way.
It’s a little strange to see Kuroo in such a… vulnerable state; Daishou is sure they’ve never had a decent conversation without insults and debates, much less a conversation involving actual feelings. He doesn’t know what to say.
So he continues what he was saying earlier. “Right, so I feel like our current relationship isn’t improving, and we just keep arguing over nothing, and honestly, we aren’t getting anywhere.”
“You’re right.”
“What?” Daishou asks, leaning closer to hear Kuroo’s mumbles.
Kuroo clears his throat, rubbing his eyes like it will somehow make the bags under them disappear. “You’re right. We’re getting nowhere. I’ve done everything in my power to keep my distance from you and, in doing so, have wasted both of our times. I’m… sorry,” he forces out, like the apology physically hurts him. “I just can’t… I can’t be friends with someone who’s only talking to me because one of our mutual boyfriends wants us to hang out. Everything isn’t…” He shakes his head, seeming exhausted. “I like you, Daishou, and I can’t do this anymore. That’s all I came here to say.”
Speechless, Daishou opens and closes his mouth, trying to think of something to say that isn’t stupid, or something that won’t drive Kuroo away, or both. He doesn’t think of anything but, “Wait, please,” when Kuroo tries to leave.
Kuroo’s eyes are empty as he sits back down. Daishou doesn’t know if he’s closing himself off or if that’s just it. Emptiness.
Daishou doesn’t want either of those. “Listen, Kuroo,” he finally says, gathering his thoughts, “it’s a little insulting that you think I’m doing this solely because of Bokuto. If I didn’t like you at all, I would have just told him I could tolerate being in the same room as you and leave it at that. I wouldn’t go to the effort of meeting up with you, or Akaashi, for that matter, if I didn’t have some interest in at least being friends. Kinda rude of you to think so little of me.”
“Excuse me?” Kuroo says, something akin to irritation lighting up his eyes. “What’s rude is you not leaving any hints about even remotely being interested in me and yet expecting me to know somehow.”
“Not my fault you’re dense. I dropped many hints, thank you. Even Bokuto would have picked up on some of them.”
Kuroo glares, knowing just as well as Daishou that Bokuto can’t pick up on hints even if his life depended on it. “I can’t believe I stayed up all night worried about this conversation.”
Daishou pauses at that. “Really?” Kuroo doesn’t say anything, looking like he regrets saying what he said. “This is gonna sound terrible, but… my apartment is really close….”
“What are you suggesting?”
“Well…,” Daishou starts, suddenly nervous. He tries desperately to hide it. “It’s prime naptime, isn’t it? And it’d be easier to talk in a more private place. We could, well, if you wanted, we could talk until you fall asleep.”
Biting his lip, Kuroo looks down at his lap. “Talk about what?” he asks quietly.
“Anything,” Daishou answers immediately. “Everything.”
Kuroo considers it for a moment, fidgeting with the menu in his hands. After a while, he places the laminated paper on the table and stands. “Okay.” His voice sounds rough, open, ready to start letting Daishou in. “Lead the way.”
Daishou doesn’t hesitate.