Work Text:
Sunday mornings were always a pleasant time of day.
Most people would still be lounging in the comforts of their bed, relishing in the last day of rest before the inevitable return back to the hustle and bustle of a Monday morning workday. There were also some people that liked to go on early jogs, wake up to make a wholesome breakfast, or just to admire the pristine glow of the brilliant sun rising over the rooftops, bathing the city in a warm yellow glow.
And then, there were people like Daichi and his friends.
“Daichi-san,” Nishinoya yelled as he barged into the living room, hauling a gigantic box in his arms. The only part of him visible over the container was the tuft of blonde hair at the top of his head. “What on the heck do you have in your boxes? They’re so heavy!”
“Hm?” Daichi asked, distractedly sorting through various forms of kitchenware into their respective drawers. “Those are probably my books, just slide them into the living room, will you?”
“That’s the fourth box of books you’ve packed,” Nishinoya complained, stomping into the other room. “I know you’re a teacher and all, but nobody reads that often!”
“I like reading,” Daichi protested as he sighed and dumped all of his silverware into one bin, deciding he’d sort it out later. He stepped over several taped containers labeled ‘plates/dishes/cups’ or ‘electronics/pans’ and walked into the living room, where Nishinoya and his fiancé Asahi were busy pushing all of Daichi’s things aside to make room for extra space. “Is that the last of my boxes?”
“Yup,” Asahi replied, wiping sweat off his brow. “The movers just left.”
“Great,” Daichi said, planting his hands on his hips as he surveyed his the area. His new flat was a little smaller than the one he lived in on the other side of the city because he’d had a roommate living with him at the time, but the lease was up and Kuroo was going to move in with his boyfriend Kenma, so there was no reason for Daichi to stay in such a big apartment alone. Several weeks of browsing through the real estate section and asking for recommendations had eventually led to a nice ten-story building overlooking a quiet street and a row of townhouses on the other side. A one bedroom, one bathroom, kitchen, and living room little apartment on top of a small twenty-four hour grocery store was as decent as it gets for a twenty-ish, average income earning guy like himself.
“You don’t even have a sofa to sit on,” Nishinoya moaned, massaging his calves. “I’ve been moving your stuff since nine this morning, Daichi-san, where’s the coffee and biscuits you promised me?”
“If you can dig my coffee maker out of this mess for me, yeah, I’ll brew you coffee,” Daichi chuckled. “I already said I’d buy you two dinner, didn’t I?”
“Well, it’s not happening tonight,” Nishinoya complained. “Gotta go eat with Asahi’s parents and talk about more wedding crap.”
“There are worst things to talk about, y’know,” Asahi said weakly, starting to fret again. Daichi punched him playfully in the arm.
“Relax, Asahi, you know he’s just having a go at you,” he grinned as Nishinoya shuffled around, trying to find a flat surface to sit on. “Seriously, you two have been together since first year in college and you’re still flustered over everything.”
“I’m not flustered,” Asahi grumbled, pushing his long hair out of his face.
“Sure, sure, you scaredy cat. Oh, Noya, don’t use that stool,” Daichi added just as Nishinoya grabs a small wooden stool covered in strange splashes of paint. “The leg is wobbly, I think it might break soon.”
“Does nothing work in your apartment?” Nishinoya asked incredulously, picking up the stool and examining it. “Where the heck did you get this thing anyway? It looks hideous.”
“Throw it out,” Asahi suggested. “It’s not very safe.”
“Hey, don’t say that,” Daichi protested. “My students at my old school painted it for me when I left. It’s got nice memories attached to it. Just put it in the corner, will you?”
“Daichi-san, they can’t even spell your name right,” Nishinoya snickered.
“Sawamura is a bit of a handful for six year olds, okay?” Daichi grumbled. “C’mon, let’s get on it. I wanna unpack the important stuff by this evening.”
“Yeah, yeah, you slave driver,” Nishinoya whined, and then yelped when Daichi chucked his gloves at his friend.
“Alright! Let’s get unpacking!”
Unpacking and setting up the flat took the better half of the afternoon, although once Daichi found his frying pan amidst the flurry of bubble wrap he took a trip down to the grocery store to buy some ingredients to make stir-fry for lunch. It had been a productive day; the kitchen and bedroom had been completely set up and the living room was shaping up nicely. Nishinoya and Asahi left at six, waving goodbye and a rain check for their promised dinner. Too tired to put forth any more effort in cooking, Daichi put the kettle on boil and made himself a simple cup noodle for the evening.
Everything was quiet and peaceful, until a knock sounded at the door.
Daichi slurped out a mouthful of noodles and stared. Who would be up and about at this hour? It was almost nine.
A quick trek over several half-opened boxes brought him over to the front door, and he swung it open to reveal—
“Good evening,” the young man at the door said, smiling. “Are you my new neighbour?”
Daichi wasn’t proud of this one particular moment; he opened his mouth to reply but the most distinguishable sound that arose from his vocal cords seemed to only be a gurgled mixture between “yes” and “whoa”, because the man at his doorstep had the softest-looking hair Daichi had ever seen, the biggest fawn eyes he’d ever made eye contact with, and the brightest smile that had ever been bestowed upon his grouchy ass. He was a little shorter than Daichi and he had a distinctive mole under his left eye, wore a button-up showed off a slender frame and dark jeans hugged long legs, and it just really didn’t help that Daichi was a leg guy of all things, did it?
The silence was slowly getting a little awkward.
“Um, sorry to bother you so late!” the man said apologetically, lifting up a large Tupperware container he’d been carrying. “I just thought I’d drop by and welcome you with a cake and all— you know, nice to have you around, neighbour! Or something like that.” He laughed, and Daichi swore he heard angels chorus in the background before finally finding his voice.
“Uh— thanks! Thanks so much! That’s really— really kind of you, you didn’t have to make me anything—”
“That’s alright,” the man beamed. “Baking’s a hobby of mine, I love trying new stuff out. Oh, I’m Sugawara Koushi, by the way, sorry, almost forgot to introduce myself. Call me Suga! I live in 303, right across the hall.”
Sugawara Koushi, apparent angel of the high heavens, then stuck out one of his hands for a shake. Daichi swallowed hard.
“Uh, hi, I’m Sawamura Daichi. You can call me Daichi. And thank you for the cake, really— um, would you like to come in? I’ll grab a plate for you as well.”
That was the smoothest transition he’d ever executed in his life. Take that, Nishinoya.
“Oh? If it’s not too much trouble!” Suga said brightly, bouncing up on the balls of his feet. Daichi could only step back and let the grey-haired beauty sweep into his apartment, praying that Suga didn’t trip over something Nishinoya tossed aside or knocked over a box holding his underwear or something.
“Sorry for the mess, I just moved in this morning.”
“I know! I caught sight of your mover’s truck outside when I went to get my car,” Suga grinned. “I thought to myself, finally, I’m getting a new neighbour! And I immediately went to grab ingredients after work to bake something nice.”
“That’s— really kind of you,” Daichi managed, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that a cute guy was in his apartment, a cute guy had made him a cake, and he was going to eat said cake with the cute guy—
Sawamura Daichi, he thought to himself, Do. Not. Mess. This. Up.
“So how long have you lived here?” Daichi asked as they walked into the kitchen and cringed a little. Way to go for something that sounds awfully creepy. Fortunately, Suga didn’t seem to mind at all.
“I moved in three years ago during the summer for work,” Suga said cheerfully as he removed the lid off the container. “It’s a really lovely neighbourhood.”
The cake was decorated with freshly cut raspberries and cantaloupe pieces resting on top of a swirl of whipping cream. Several chocolate leaves framed the fruits, and Suga was careful to cut around them as he extracted two slices and placed them on the mismatched plates Daichi managed to find.
“It is, isn’t it? Where do you work, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“I’m a historian,” Suga grinned. “Right now I’m doing some research at the museum downtown. What about you?”
“I’m a teacher,” Daichi replied, taking a bite. The creaminess of the whipped cream wasn’t overdone, and the fruits were sweet. There was slightly tingly and odd taste of something that didn’t sit well on his tongue, but he pushed that out of his mind as he elaborated. “I started teaching second-graders at the elementary school next to city hall at the beginning of the school year.”
“Karasuno Elementary, right?” Suga asked brightly. “They always take the kids on fieldtrips to the museum before the end of the semester. Maybe I’ll see you around!”
“That would be nice,” Daichi smiled, a tingly feeling running down his neck. Oh, wow, was he blushing already? That would be embarrassing.
No, wait— he wasn’t blushing, and the tingling wasn’t embarrassment. His throat was swelling.
Suddenly, Daichi had a very bad thought.
“Say, Suga, what’s in this cake?” Daichi asked slowly.
“Hm? Oh, it’s just a standard cake recipe,” Suga replied. “I put some fruits on top and added some ground vanilla beans and cut up a few slices of strawberries to put in the centre before putting the other layer on top. Ah… is everything alright, Daichi? You’re really red.”
…Shit.
“Um, I know this is sudden, but can you do me a favour?” Dachi asked weakly, and set his fork down. Suga straightened up and said quickly, “Yes! Sure! What can I do?”
“Can you call an ambulance, please? I’m kinda… allergic to strawberries.”
All the blood drained out of Suga’s face, and all Daichi can really think about was, aw, damn, he messed this up.
Suga insisted on accompanying Daichi on the ride to the hospital, and along the way, he managed to apologize about thirty-five times in a span of ten minutes as Daichi stared in what he hope wasn’t an entirely lovestruck way up the man.
“I’m sorry, Daichi. This is such a mess.”
“It’s alright, really,” Daichi wheezed, lifting up his oxygen mask to talk. “It’s a really obscure allergy. I should’ve asked you what the cake was made up of beforehand, but I got a little caught up with our conversation.”
The paramedic pushed the mask back down on Daichi’s face as she stuck another needle into the crook of his arm.
“I’m still so sorry,” Suga sighed, hanging his head. “It’s still my fault.”
“It’s okay,” Daichi huffed, pushing the masks up with his free hand. “Really. I’m a grown man, this isn’t anything I can’t handle.” Truth be told, the last time he had a reaction was when he was maybe seven, which was at least twelve years ago, but Suga didn’t need to know that.
“Allergies are really serious, Daichi! What if something bad happened?”
“You called the ambulance in time,” Daichi pointed out, and the paramedic nudged the oxygen mask back over his mouth and nose again. “I’ll be fine.”
“I hope so,” Suga said, clasping his hands nervously together. “God, I’m s—”
“I’ll pinch you if the next word out of your mouth is another sorry,” Daichi warned, and he vaguely heard the paramedic snort as Suga blushed and mimed zipping his lips. The rest of the ride involved a lot more medical inspections that Daichi can name, and once they arrived at the hospital, Suga was directed to the waiting area.
“I’ll see you later then, Daichi!” Suga called, waving.
“See ya,” Daichi replied, lifting the mask again, and as the stretcher wheeled around the corner the paramedic gave him a cross look and forcefully mashed the mask back down onto his face.
“Seriously,” she said. “I know you’re trying to pick him up and all, but could you at least try to let us keep you breathing?”
After the allergy scare, Monday morning popped up, and Daichi barely had time to daydream about riding in the ambulance with his gorgeous neighbour before he was back to work, stuffing the last of his toast into his mouth as he made his way around the block to the subway station for work.
Second-graders were unruly enough on a regular school day, but Mondays are fundamentally terrible days in general, so before the lunch bell had even gone three children had tripped and scraped their knees in gym class and another accidentally spilled paint over her shirt during art. After wiping away a decent amount of snot and tears and handed out stickers to comfort his tearful students, one of the bathrooms at the end of the hall flooded, and because Oikawa-sensei’s first grade class was right next to the toilets they had to be relocated into his classroom. It was difficult enough to look after double the amount of students, but working with Oikawa was also a challenge within itself, and Daichi found himself fervently wishing for Iwaizumi-sensei to get his ass down from the fourth-grade classrooms to save him from the hell that was screaming kids and a sparkling teacher.
He doesn’t see Suga for the next two days either. It seems like their schedules just weren’t compatible, but Daichi did leave pretty early in the morning and he liked to stay at school to do his marking. Second-grade tests and assignments weren’t all that difficult to grade, fortunately, so he was usually home by five in the evening. He did catch sight of Suga when he went home for lunch on Thursday, but he was busy talking with a tall man with a shaved head at the doorway and there was a large plastic carrier on the threshold, so Daichi didn’t stop to talk.
It wasn’t until Friday that luck favoured him, because when he made it back home at four in the afternoon and stepped out of the lift, Suga exited the one right next to him.
“Oh!” Suga said in surprise. “Daichi!”
“Hello,” Daichi said, inclining his head, and he immediately felt warm around the collar. There were no strawberries in the vicinity, though, so he was definitely blushing this time. “Fancy meeting you here.”
“What a coincidence, eh?” Suga agreed. “I’m sorry I didn’t have a chance to talk to you all week— I’ve been staying late at the lab because an art historian from France had come by, and he’s been collaborating with my team on our project.”
“I see. Headed home early on a Friday afternoon, then?” Daichi grinned.
“Fridays are actually my day off!” Suga laughed. “I was volunteering at the animal shelter my friend works at today.”
Good god, could this man get any more perfect— a hobby baker, an educated historian and an animal lover? Daichi thinks back to the flooded toilet and wiping snot off children’s faces and decides against telling Suga anything about his particular week. “That’s cool. Do you like animals, then?”
“I do!” Suga enthused, brightening. “The animals are cute, really, but a lot of them were abandoned by careless owners. The shelter can get pretty packed sometimes, so I volunteer my flat for housing sometimes.”
“Was that what the carrier by your door was for the other day? A pet?” Daichi asked.
“Yup! That was my friend, Tanaka— he brought over this tiny terrier mix that had been abused by his previous owners, poor thing. He’s a little jittery around the other animals so Tanaka asked me to look out for him before he can find someone who’s interested in adopting him.”
“I used to have a dog,” Daichi said, smiling fondly. “I lived in the rural areas when I was small, and my mom kept a German Shepard and a Retriever.”
“That’s lovely,” Suga said, and Daichi nodded. The conversation dropped for a moment, and in that split second Daichi found his line of view shifting over to the mole under Suga’s eye, and god, it made him look kinda really hot, damn it—
“So,” Suga began with a little cough, and Daichi immediately re-directed his gaze, trying not to flush. “I never did have a change to apologize properly for that cake incident, so… would you like to come over for a cup of tea? Just regular green tea! I’ll show you the ingredients too!”
“I’m fine with any kind of tea,” Daichi laughed, trying to calm his instantly racing heart. “And yeah— I’d love to have tea with you.”
Suga beamed at him.
“C’mon in,” he said, and lead Daichi down the hall to his flat. As Suga dug out his keys, Daichi quickly straightened out his shirt and tie, stuffing the loose shirttail back into his pants before Suga opened his door and ushered Daichi in.
The apartment was set out just like Daichi’s, only reversed, with the kitchen and living room to their immediate left and the bedroom and bathroom on the right. There was a nice rustic-looking bowl on top of the shoe rack at the doorway that Suga dropped his keys into, and a closer venture into the den revealed a simple setting of a loveseat facing a television set, coffee table covered in stacks of magazines and articles, and a glass case full of pocket-sized statues, strangely-shaped artifacts and lovely painted dishes propped upright. The walls were painted a friendly light yellow, and there was an attractive scent of something like vanilla.
“Forgive the mess,” Suga said sheepishly, dropping off his messenger bag and coat on the ground. “That’s some of my research material.”
“What are you researching?” Daichi asked curiously as he undid the buttons on his sleeves and rolled them up his forearms.
“I— ah, nothing special, really. Just some artifacts from the European Renaissance, and where some new finds could be possibly located today.”
“Whoa,” Daichi grinned. “Sounds impressive.”
Suga’s cheeks reddened and he laughed, scratching the back of his head. “Thanks,” he said, dimpling a little as he smiled. “So! How about that tea I was supposed to be offering you?”
“That’d be great,” Daichi chuckled, rolling his tense shoulders in anticipation for a hot drink and more small talk with Suga. He could probably understand nothing Suga told him about Renaissance relics but still find it interesting because Suga’s definitely the type of person that can gives off a contagious kind of enthusiasm.
He really is cute, Daichi mused as he followed Suga into the kitchen. A small movement on his right catches his eye, and he had less than a second to prepare himself before a tiny ball of fur was rocketing towards him at the speed of light and there was a terrible pain in his right forearm.
Daichi yelled, more in surprise than anything, and the littler terrier Suga had been talking about let go of his arm immediately, tail between the legs, eyes wide and panicked. Suga swooped in and scooped up the dog, looking more terrified than the dog itself, and cried, “I’m so sorry! Oh my god Daichi, I’m so sorry— just— give me a moment, I’ll put him in my room, oh my god—”
Note to self, Daichi thought dazedly as Suga sprinted back into his bedroom and scrambled about for first-aid supplies, never let Nishinoya know of this.
He’ll never let Daichi hear the end of it.
Nishinoya found out about it.
Daichi was certain that the shorter man had a lot to say about his current predicament, but Nishinoya was evidently too busy laughing himself stupid to vocalize any of his thoughts, so he just turned to Asahi with a deadpan expression and asked, “You got anything to contribute to this conversation?”
“Are you kidding?” Asahi said around a mouthful of shao mai. “I’m not stupid. I know you’ll try to remove my spleen if I make a wisecrack about anything, so I’m just gonna enjoy this dinner that you’ve so kindly treated us to.”
Daichi scowled and stabbed his chopsticks into his bowl of rice as Nishinoya hunched over, snorting wildly through his laughter. They were eating out at a nice Chinese restaurant near the tourist area on a Saturday evening the day after the dog attack incident, which was when Nishinoya asked what happened to Daichi’s bandaged arm and Daichi had to take the whole Suga-related incident right from the top. It was truly nice to know that his level of friendship with Nishionya and Asahi had already bypassed the ‘laughing at other people’s pain’ stage and was resting somewhere around the ‘sarcastic responses’ one.
“That’s— so— terrible,” Nishinoya wheezed as he straightened up. “Oh my god, Daichi-san, I feel so bad for you.”
“Do you really?” Daichi asked shrewdly as he picked up a slice of pecking duck. “Seeing as all you’ve done since I finished my story was laugh non-stop.”
“Well, you gotta admit it’s kinda hilarious,” Nishinoya said, wiping his eyes. “Is your arm okay?”
“It’s fine,” Daichi sighed. “Suga drove me to the doctor’s and I got a tetanus shot and stitches. It’ll heal in a week or so.”
“Just how unlucky are you?” Asahi asked. “This is the first guy you’ve actively liked since that fling of yours in college and he’s already tried to kill you twice.”
“Those were accidents,” Daichi grumbled. “And I didn’t have a fling, I take dating seriously.”
“Well, obviously your ex didn’t,” Nishinoya snorted as he helped himself to the steamed bass. “So whatcha gonna do about this Suga-san? You gonna flirt with him and potentially risk your life for the sake of romance?”
“I am flirting with him and I’m about fifty percent certain he’s flirting back,” Daichi replied decisively. “Or maybe he’s just a really nice person, I don’t know. Either way, stop making Suga sound like some secret axe murderer or something. He volunteers at animal shelters and looks at ancient artifacts in a quiet museum for a living.”
“Or so he says,” Nishinoya said wisely, and Asahi elbowed him in the ribs.
“Go for it,” the bearded man said serenely. “Then maybe you’ll finally have a date to bring to our wedding.”
“Frick you, you bearded goofball,” Daichi sneered, and stole the piece of mushroom Asahi was going for in childish retaliation.
It was Monday again.
It had been exactly a week since Suga had met Sawamura Daichi, nice new neighbour and apparent stud, and so far their time together has mostly been spent at either the hospital or doctor, which really wasn’t how he envisioned the process of trying to get to know the man. After the unfortunate trip to the doctor’s on Friday, Suga hadn’t seen Daichi at all. He hoped intensely that Daichi wasn’t terribly angry at him, but few people would be wholly forgiving after being injured so many times.
As if sensing his thoughts, the little terrier sitting at Suga’s feet whined sadly. Jolted out of his contemplations, Suga put down the ladle he was using to spoon miso soup out into a thermos and pat the dog on the head.
“It’s not your fault,” he said gently. “You were just nervous at seeing somebody new, weren’t you?”
The puppy snuffled a little, and Suga smiled.
Daichi was definitely not a bad man. For one, he didn’t react violently and lash out at the animal like most people would have, and Suga was largely relieved when he didn’t insist on having the dog put down. Instead, he took the whole thing in a stride and allowed Suga to rush him to the doctor’s, barely made a noise of complaint when the doc gave him the shot and stitched his arm back up, and that was when Suga knew that he had really fallen for Daichi. It was a little ridiculous, seeing as they’ve only known each other for a week, been to the hospital twice in seven days and had talked for less than three hours in total, but they had time to work things out, didn’t they?
“But not this morning,” Suga sighed as he finished packing up his lunch and wandered into his bedroom to change. The puppy followed him, sniffing at the clear packaging around fifteenth century wine goblet Suga had taken home to study. The French historian was leaving the country in the afternoon, and because Suga wanted to collect the last of the man’s notes before he left Japan, he’d woken up extra early to drive down to the museum.
He sorted through several dress shirts in a daze and managed to button his cardigan wrong three times before he succeeded in making himself presentable, bid the puppy goodbye, and finally exited his flat. The process of riding the elevator down and walking around his building to get his car involved more wishful thinking on how he could possibly fix this whole mess with Daichi without another terrible accident— maybe going to the movies or lunch away from their apartments would do them some good. A new atmosphere ought to be refreshing, right?
Suga sighed and rubbed his eyes as he cleared his mind of cluttered thoughts. He reached down to put his lunch box in the back seat, only to realize—
“Of course,” he groaned. “I left my food upstairs while daydreaming about my hot new neighbour. Really.”
Yanking his car keys out of the ignition, Suga opened his car door and climbed out.
WHAM.
Suga yelled in surprise and jumped a foot into the air as somebody suddenly crashed bodily into his car door and collapsed backwards onto the ground, groaning in pain.
“Are you okay?” he cried, running around to see whom he’d hit, and of course it turned out to be—
“Suga?” Daichi asked, squinting up from where he was lying flat on the sidewalk. He was wearing a black muscle shirt, jogging shorts and had headphones in his ears, from which Suga could vaguely hear rhythmic music. Daichi looked kinda good covered in sweat, chest heaving as he panted, and Suga would probably be having some really inappropriate thoughts if it hadn’t been for the trail of blood running down Daichi’s nose.
“Your nose is bleeding!” Suga gasped, wringing his hands desperately. “Oh my god, Daichi, I can’t believe this— here, I’ve got tissues in my car, let me help you up!”
“It’s not a big deal, really,” Daichi puffed as he sat upright. “I should’ve looked where I was going. My head was kinda in the clouds.”
“You’re not the only one,” Suga admitted as he brought out a tissue box and helped Daichi take a seat in his car. “I should’ve taken a look before opening my door. I’m so sorry.”
“You’re not secretly an assassin trying to off me, are you?” Daichi asked, grinning weakly as he stuffed the wad of tissue against his nose. “I mean, the most illegal thing I’ve ever done was download this movie I was too impatient to wait for in DVD, so. I’m not that adventurous.”
“No! Never!” Suga laughed, running a hand through his hair. “I forgot my lunch upstairs. I was hurrying to get it.”
“Ah,” Daichi said, nodding. “You go to work this early every day?”
“Just for today,” Suga said, and explained how the French historian was leaving. “The museum opens at eleven each day, so unless I wanted to use the lab I don’t have to be there until ten.”
“No wonder I haven’t run into you in the mornings then,” Daichi chuckled. “School starts at eight, so I’m out of the house by seven latest.”
“No wonder indeed,” Suga echoed. “You jog every morning, then?”
“I usually do,” Daichi said, reaching for another tissue. “But it’s been a heck of a crazy week for me, with moving and some ridiculous accidents at the school as well, so I didn’t get a chance to start back up until today.”
“And then I hit you with my car,” Suga said, burying his face in his hands in mortification. “I don’t even have a good explanation for this, for goodness’s sake.”
“Well, I did get to talk to you because of this, so… it wasn’t that bad,” Daichi said, and Suga’s head snapped up, almost disbelieving. Daichi’s face was a little red, and (maybe? Just maybe?) it wasn’t from his nosebleed.
“Looks like you’re really falling for me then,” he said without thinking, and before the words could even exit his mouth Suga could already feel the colour rising in his cheeks, enough to rival Daichi’s sudden blush, and oh god, did he just say that out loud? It wouldn’t be too obscure to wish for a lighting strike to put him out of his misery, would it?
“You’re kinda smooth,” Daichi said after a moment, and he’s grinning really widely despite the fierce blush on his face. “Maybe I am falling, literally and figuratively.”
“I’d do away with the falling altogether, actually,” Suga laughed, ducking his head. “Is there any way I can make it up to you, really? You have no idea how bad I feel about everything.”
Daichi tilted his head thoughtfully as he folded up the used tissues in his hand. “Well… I think it’s best that we avoid your flat for now, seeing as you’re still taking care of the puppy, so how about lunch at my place on Saturday? I’m pretty good at making lasagna, if you’re okay with that.”
“Sure,” Suga replied, trying to control his massive grin. “I know this really nice place that sells pastries and croissants, would you like me bring some?”
Daichi’s smile is by far the most beautiful thing Suga’s seen before.
“That would be great, Suga.”
Saturday really couldn’t arrive fast enough for Daichi, who spent the rest of the week in alternating states of restless fidgeting during his lunch breaks, restless fidgeting while his students did independent reading, and more restless fidgeting when he went to his suit fitting for his role as best man for Asahi. In fact, he was so twitchy that even Hinata, Nishionya’s best man, had asked him if he was feeling alright, and Hinata’s nervous habits were nothing to sneeze at.
He even drove to the Farmer’s Market after work on Friday to get some fresh parsley and basil.
“I’m wayyy too in love,” Daichi informed the radishes. The radishes wisely made no reply, so Daichi paid for his groceries and left.
Suga knocked on his door at 11:30 am sharp that Saturday with a large pastel lilac bakery box in hand and another surprise.
“Curtains?” Daichi asked as he welcomed Suga in and put down the spoon he’d been stirring his homemade sauce with.
“Yup!” Suga grinned, lifting up the package. Behind the clear plastic wrapping, Daichi could see a neat silver and light blue striped cloth folded in a flat square. “It was a gift from the French historian; he had some souvenirs from Paris he brought over and he gave everybody in my team a pick, and I thought this might be a nice housewarming gift for you.”
“You didn’t have to,” Daichi said sheepishly, feeling his stomach flip, and Suga smiled prettily at him.
“It’s the least I can do, really. Do you like them?”
“I love them. Thank you, Suga,” Daichi replied, and wow, he would never tire of them way Suga seemed to light up like the sun, happiness radiating off him in waves.
“I’m glad you do! Want me to put it up for you?”
“Sure,” Daichi said, taking the box of pastries from Suga. “Just push aside the empty boxes to make room. I should really throw them out.”
“No move is complete without the stray box or bubble wrap littering the corners of your new house for at least another six months,” Suga said knowledgeably as he tore the wrapping open, and Daichi laughed as he cracked open the contents of the bakery box to see what Suga had brought. There was a delicious assortment of rolls, puffy little buns, twists and bite-sized croissants. Daichi grinned and shut the lid, looking for someplace on the counter to put the box down on when there was a terrifying cracking noise from the direction of the living room, a heavy thud and Suga’s yell of pain.
Terror shot through Daichi like an electrical shock and he nearly dropped the box while spinning around.
“Suga?” he yelled. “Suga, are you alright?!”
And the scene of the incident looked like this: the lovely curtains crumpled on the floor, pooling around a groaning Suga lying on the ground, hunched over his left arm, and the wobbly stool Daichi had warned Nishinoya against sitting on crushed to smithereens under the window.
“Oh, fuck,” Daichi swore in utter disbelief, and reached for his cell phone. It’s not ridiculous to say that emergency services were on his speed dial by now, was it?
“We should probably retire this phrase, but I’m so sorry,” Daichi sighed, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment. “I completely forgot that the stool was unusable.”
“That’s okay,” Suga said, easing back into the plump cushion of Daichi’s sofa. After six long hours waiting in ER, the doctor had finally taken a look at Suga, deemed it a broken arm, slapped a cast on it and gave Suga a prescription of pain meds. Daichi swung by the pharmacy to pick the medication up while Suga dozed in the backseat of the taxi on their way home.
“We’re just walking disasters, aren’t we?” Daichi lamented a little sadly. “Nothing is going right at all.”
“Well, we’re sorta even now, aren’t we?” Suga giggled, lifting his arm in its sling. “This should probably cancel our accidents out.”
“Maybe,” Daichi laughed tiredly. “Or maybe our flats are just haunted by some vengeful ghosts who don’t like seeing happy people.”
“Nonsense,” Suga chortled. “I would’ve been kicked out long ago if that had been the case. But how about we do something away from our apartments next time? I know a nice coffee place by the waterfront.”
Daichi looked at him for a moment. “Are you asking me out on a date?” he asked slowly, trying to quell the jittery feeling in his gut. Suga burst out laughing at that.
“Of course I am, silly. Isn’t this what we’ve been kinda doing all along? Practice-dates?”
“I guess so,” Daichi said thoughtfully, a grin spreading widely over his face. “We’ll make an interesting pair, won’t we? You with your sling, and me with my stitches.”
Suga snickered and shifted a little so that he was sitting up straighter. He leaned in in a rather conspiring way and motioned Daichi to come forth as well.
“Can I tell you something? That day when you came over for tea and rolled your sleeves up your arms, I kinda almost died a little because you have really nice forearms.”
“Really,” Daichi said, and yeah, he was definitely smiling like an idiot right now. “Is this your pain meds talking, Suga?”
“A bit,” Suga snorted. “But I mean it. And, well, you’re just sweet, you know? You’re still willing to hang out with me even after I almost poisoned you, set a frightened dog on you, and hit you with my freaking car.”
“Maybe that’s because you’re good company,” Daichi said honestly. “And, well, since you’ve admitted to liking my arms, how about I tell you that I’ve maybe kinda admired your legs a little bit when you first came to visit?”
“Seriously?” Suga blurted out, and then he began laughing, all while blushed madly. “Oh my god, Daichi. My legs— really? Ahhhhfmmm—”
“Don’t laugh!” Daichi cried, which only made Suga laugh harder, and then Daichi found himself laughing along and reaching out an arm to steady Suga on the couch. What he didn’t really expect was for Suga to lean forwards as well, so that they were almost nose-to-nose, and jeez, even Suga’s eyelashes were basically beautiful, the way they framed his large brown eyes.
He took a breath.
“Hey, Suga,” he said, and Suga blinked up at him, cheeks dusted with red.
“Yeah, Daichi?”
“Can I kiss you?”
“Please do.”
Suga’s lips met him halfway in a soft, gentle press against Daichi’s mouth, and Suga’s good arm was clutching at Daichi’s waist, and his own hands were carding through Suga’s silky grey hair and cradling Suga’s jaw with the utmost care—
And finally, everything had gone right.
(Six months later)
June was always an interesting month for Daichi. The weather was finally getting hotter, which meant that his students were getting more restless for summer vacation, final assessments were needed, report cards had to be signed, and Oikawa-sensei’s students had managed to blow up their class’ model volcano and mess up their entire artwork wall— but that kind of stuff happens every week anyway.
But this June was also special for Daichi, because Asahi and Nishinoya were finally getting married the weekend after the first day of summer, and it had been a stunning day for the outdoor ceremony. He proudly watched his two best friends tie the knot under the gazebo decorated with bouquets and ribbons, Hinata’s niece and nephew bring forth the rings and flowers, and watched Asahi and Nishinoya’s parents tearfully celebrate. He also managed to sneak a peek at Suga, who was sitting in the front row with the puppy they’d adopted together on his lap (yes, the one who’d bitten Daichi, who turned out to be sweetest little animal ever. Nishionya had insisted they bring him). Suga winked at him and Daichi had to face the front before he could break out in another grin.
It really was disappointing that his duties as best man meant hardly any alone time with Suga during the day, but by the time dinner at the reception was over and Daichi had mostly finished greeting all of the relatives (Asahi had four aunts and five uncles on his mother’s side alone), he finally managed to catch his boyfriend just as he finished chatting animatedly with Hinata’s date, a serious looking guy called Kageyama.
“Hey,” Daichi grinned, looping his arms around Suga’s waist.
“Hey yourself, handsome,” Suga replied, standing up on tiptoes to give Daichi a kiss on the cheek as he smoothed down the lapels of Daichi’s suit. “Finally have time to look after me?”
“Missed me that much?” Daichi chuckled, and Suga pinched his side.
“Nah, I had a lovely time with the puppy, and Hinata’s sister’s kids are too adorable. So, not too much.”
“Hmph,” Daichi grumbled, nuzzling his nose into Suga’s hair. “Well, I missed you. Come dance with me.”
“Hm, I’m not sure about that,” Suga mused, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “What if another accident happens?”
“Don’t be silly,” Daichi snorted. “We’ve never gotten into another accident since we kissed at my place that day you broke your arm.”
“True,” Suga hummed. “Funny. I wonder why?”
“Who knows?” Daichi shrugged as he grasped Suga’s hands and pulled him onto the dance floor. “It certainly does make for an epic story of how we met. And I’m certainly not complaining about it.”
Suga laughed. “Well, as long as you don’t step on my toes.”
“Please,” Daichi scoffed. “You’re more likely to step on mine.”
Suga’s eyes were glittering as he wrapped his arms around Daichi’s neck and tugged him close. “I think we’re both gonna step on each other’s toes, so we’ll be even, won’t we?”
“If you put it that way…” Daichi snickered, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Suga’s warm mouth. He normally didn’t do this in public, but the atmosphere was almost overwhelmingly romantic, and Suga was kissing back lazily, fingers playing with the strands of hair at Daichi’s neck while sneaking his tongue into the kiss every so often. Daichi hugged him close and swayed on the dance floor, relishing in the comfort of the embrace.
If this was joy, heck, it was totally worth all those ridiculous accidents.
End