Chapter Text
Suguru set his chopsticks down, the food tasting a little like dirt in his mouth. The rest of the team laughed and chattered around him, the high of their win still hanging in the air, but Suguru just wanted to go home. It had been different to celebrate winning a game at Nohebi, when he knew everyone wanted him there, when he’d had a part in their win.
Kuroo sat two seats away from him, his hair falling in a messy heap over his right eye and his gaze drifting back over to Suguru. He’d tried to corner Suguru twice, but Suguru wasn’t about to talk to him. Not after he’d basically called Suguru a slut and left him to trudge back to the dorm alone.
Suguru stood, heading for the bathroom without bothering to make any excuses. No one was talking to him anyway. He didn’t even know why he bothered to be angry anyone. Kuroo wasn’t even wrong. It was just Suguru hadn’t ever thought Kuroo cared who he slept with, or how many people he slept with. He’d never said anything before. Even when he’d thrown Furuta out of their dorm, and Suguru had been embarrassed, not because he’d slept with such an asshole but because it had been Kuroo who’d walked through the door, Kuroo hadn’t seemed at all judgmental.
And Suguru was getting a little sick of misinterpreting Kuroo. Of Kuroo pretending to like him when he obviously didn’t.
The door swung open behind him, and Watanabe and the co-captain, Kiyama, walked through. Suguru shut the water of his sink off, holding in his sigh as they made their way over to him. Obviously, it had been too much to hope that everyone would just leave him alone.
“Daishou,” Watanabe said, not bothering with any type of honorific, even though there was no way they were close enough to go without. “How did you like the game?”
“I especially liked the part where we won, and you stood on the sidelines,” Kiyama said.
They were both smirking at him, their eyes gleaming with an after match kind of high that Suguru recognized. They were assholes, and they were trying to get a rise out of him, but he doubted they were actually going to do anything to him.
“It was a good game,” Suguru answered, the smile he plastered onto his face slow and calculating. “Of course, you wouldn’t have had to go to full sets if you were better at receiving.”
“You little—” Watanabe started, but the door swung open again and Kuroo stuck his big head through.
“Is everything alright in here?”
“Fine,” Kiyama answered. He put a hand on Watanabe’s shoulder, glaring over at Suguru like that would do anything. Watanabe took two steps back before turning on his heel and leaving, shoving his shoulder against Kuroo’s.
“You’re really making friends,” Kuroo said, the door swinging shut behind him.
“Did you follow me back here?” Suguru asked, and he was trying to keep his calm, but his voice still came out a sharp snap. He wished he knew how to make himself not react to Kuroo.
“I was just…” Kuroo trailed off. He took a couple steps further into the bathroom, fiddling with the ends of his shorts. “Daishou, I just wanted to apologize.”
“What?” Suguru asked. He suddenly felt wrong footed, thrown into an alternate universe and told to swim where there was no water. Kuroo was apologizing to him?
“I’ve been an asshole to you this past year, and I—” Kuroo swallowed, taking another step forward. He seemed so sincere, nervous, and he was apologizing. He was actually apologizing? It shouldn’t have made Suguru want to slap him. “I just wanted—”
“Don’t you dare apologize to me,” Suguru interrupted. And damnit, he could feel the anger burning behind his eyes. Why did Kuroo have to keep poking and prodding when he knew Suguru didn’t want him around? And why did Suguru have to care? “You think just because those two assholes are picking on me you suddenly get to feel guilty?”
“No, that’s no—” Kuroo started.
“You don’t get to feel guilty, and you don’t get to come to me so you can feel better about yourself.”
“Daishou…” Kuroo trailed off, but he looked at a loss, and he deserved to be. He didn’t deserve to apologize. Or feel better. He probably didn’t even know what he was apologizing for. He just felt guilty because he was a nice guy, and Suguru hated nice guys. Kuroo didn’t have the first idea what he did to Suguru.
“Leave me alone, Kuroo,” Suguru answered. He stalked toward the door, having every intention of just walking past Kuroo and storming out.
“Daishou, wait,” Kuroo said, his fingers wrapping around Suguru’s elbow, and Suguru reacted before he really thought about what he was doing. He shoved against Kuroo’s chest, but Suguru wasn’t exactly balanced, and Kuroo was still a good three inches taller than him. Suguru stumbled, and Kuroo tried to catch him, but they both ended up on the floor of the bathroom, Kuroo’s weight heavy and solid on top of him.
It had been a long time since he’d felt Kuroo pressed against him like this, and Suguru hated how he liked it. He hated how it reminded him of nights spent pressed together, of tongues and skin and Kuroo’s hands against his body.
“Get off me,” Suguru said, his voice a husky whisper.
“I, uh, sorry,” Kuroo answered, his breath blowing across Suguru’s face. Then he was moving away, and apparently, Suguru had lost his mind sometime in the last minute, because he was reaching out, his hands wrapping around Kuroo’s jacket. He yanked Kuroo back down, smashing their lips together, and it shouldn’t have felt so good when Kuroo moaned.
Kuroo melted against him, weaving his hand through Suguru’s hair and probably messing it up completely. Suguru nipped at Kuroo’s bottom lip, but of course, once Suguru opened his mouth, Kuroo shoved his tongue inside. It was horribly reminiscent of all the times they would make out and neither of them could be bothered to give in.
Suguru couldn’t in that moment be bothered to care. It was like they were in high school again, making out on a frankly disgusting bathroom floor with Kuroo’s tongue in his mouth like they still had a chance. And damnit, this shouldn’t still be able to hurt him.
Suguru pushed Kuroo’s shoulders, wrenching his mouth away. Kuroo went easily, the heels of his palms resting on either side of Suguru’s head. They were both panting, their breath mingling together between them. Suguru was so in love with him that it was bordering on pathetic, and he was a lot of things, but pathetic wasn’t one of them.
“Get off me,” Suguru said. Kuroo’s eyes widened, but he did get off Suguru, scrambling to his feet like Suguru had shoved him.
“Suguru, I—”
“Just don’t,” Suguru interrupted, getting to his feet. He probably looked atrocious, but right then, he really just wanted to leave. He didn’t understand Kuroo, and he was tired of trying and failing to figure it out.
Tetsurou stood at the entrance of the locker room, waiting. Daishou had been avoiding him. It had been three days since they’d made out on the bathroom floor, and Tetsurou was getting a little desperate. When Daishou wasn’t locked in his room, he was out of the dorm doing who knew what, and even when he was in the same room as Tetsurou, he didn’t so much as acknowledge his existence.
The door swung open, and Daishou sauntered in, already dressed in his athletic wear. Practice started in barely five minutes, and Tetsurou wasn’t an idiot. He knew Daishou was showing up late to try and avoid him, but they needed to talk like yesterday.
“Can we talk?” Tetsurou asked, stepping up close to Daishou. He smelled like honey and something sour, and Tetsurou was probably standing a little to close, but he was tired of Daishou ignoring him.
“No,” Daishou answered, side stepping him. He threw his bag down and practically ran out to the gym.
Tetsurou groaned. It wasn’t that he didn’t get it. He did; he’d been an asshole, and from Daishou’s perspective, he’d been an asshole for no good reason. He could only imagine what Daishou thought he was talking about when he brought up Amari and cheating. He probably thought Tetsurou was the biggest hypocrite in existence, but Tetsurou didn’t know what to do if Daishou wouldn’t listen to him.
Practice started off fine. Watanabe glared at them from under his bangs, but he didn’t say anything with Coach Takao standing right there. It wasn’t until they were doing spikes, the ball Daishou had spiked smashing down on the opposite side of the net that it happened. Watanabe was blocking on the other side of the net, landing a touch too close, and Tetsurou would have said it was an accident except he saw the way Watanabe cocked his foot out.
Daishou landed right on Watanabe’s foot, crying out as his ankle twisted, and he went down hard. Tetsurou immediately left the line, squatting beside Daishou as the coach knelt on his other side. Daishou straightened his left leg out, grimacing as he moved his ankle.
“You need to get that looked at,” Coach Takao said. “Can you stand?”
“I’m fine,” Daishou answered, and then he immediately shoved his bad ankle under himself like an idiot. He let out a high pitched squeak and landed back on his butt.
“Just go get that looked at,” Coach Takao said, shaking his head as he stood. “Kuroo-kun will help you.”
“I don’t need help,” Daishou answered.
“I’ll deal with Watanabe,” Coach Takao said, and he almost seemed like he was talking to himself now, ignoring Daishou’s protests as he walked away. “Tripping another student like that…”
“Here,” Tetsurou said. He reached a hand out, moving to pull Daishou’s left arm over his shoulder so he could support most of Daishou’s weight.
“I don’t need help,” Daishou repeated, recoiling like Tetsurou’s touch would burn him. He tried not to let that hurt.
He couldn’t help wondering if they would ever get back to where they used to be. Even if he apologized, and Daishou understood, would he ever really be able to forgive Tetsurou? Tetsurou wasn’t sure he’d be able to forgive himself for screwing up what they’d had.
“You can’t even stand,” Tetsurou said.
“I don’t need your help,” Daishou answered.
“You’re not going to hop down to the nurse,” Tetsurou said, and Daishou’s lips tightened, a muscle in his jaw jumping. He didn’t really have a choice, and he knew better than to throw a fit in the middle of practice, even if he was injured.
“Fine,’” he breathed, letting Tetsurou pull him to his feet.
They hobbled out the gym together, Daishou limping enough on his ankle to let Tetsurou know it must have hurt. It really wasn’t that far to the nurse, and Tetsurou knew Daishou didn’t want to talk to him. He had his face turned resolutely away, holding his body as far from Tetsurou as physically possible. Tetsurou should have just left it alone, but if he didn’t talk to Daishou while he had him cornered now, he might never get another chance.
“When we were—” Tetsurou started.
“Don’t talk to me,” Daishou interrupted, and even though his voice was steady, his body had tensed.
“Daishou—”
“I don’t want to talk to you.”
“You can’t avoid me forever.”
“I can try,” Daishou answered, and they’d stopped walking now, which really didn’t fit well with the whole avoiding forever thing that Daishou was planning, but Tetsurou wasn’t going to argue with more time to explain himself.
“I thought you were cheating on—”
“Yes, you’ve made your opinion of me quite clear,” Daishou interrupted, and Tetsurou wished he would just shut up already.
“—on me,” he finished, raising his voice to be heard, and Daishou hesitated, freezing like the words were just registering in his mind.
“What?” he asked, wrenching himself away from Tetsurou. He stood precariously on one foot, his eyes narrowed in that confused little frown he had when he was really bewildered.
“I broke up with you because I thought you were cheating on me,” Tetsurou said. Daishou opened his mouth, shook his head, closed his mouth, then opened it again.
“Why?” he asked, and Tetsurou told him about Sakai and Amari and how stupid he’d been to jump to conclusions, and Daishou blinked hard, turning his face away, and Tetsurou couldn’t tell if he was more hurt or bewildered.
“That’s really stupid, Kuroo,” Daishou said once he’d finished.
“I know,” Tetsurou answered. At least Daishou was talking to him now, even if he wasn’t looking at him or calling him Tetsu, he didn’t seem like he was overwhelmingly angry. Tetsurou didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. “I should have known you’d never do something like that, I just—”
“I cheated on my girlfriend freshman year,” Daishou interrupted, and Tetsurou suddenly felt wrong footed again. Of course, Daishou had to throw something like that into the water.
“I… uh, oh,” Tetsurou answered, feeling like a complete idiot. He wasn’t surprised. They were in this mess, because he’d known Daishou was capable of cheating on someone, he just hadn’t expected Daishou to throw it in his face.
“I just wouldn’t have done that to you,” Daishou said, and Tetsurou felt his world flip again. Daishou’s eyes were dark and melancholy, and Tetsurou didn’t think he’d ever seen him look quiet so sincere.
“Why?” he asked.
“Because I loved you,” Daishou shrugged. “Because you were…” he trailed off, awkwardly crossing his arms. “It wouldn’t have been worth it.”
Tetsurou wet his lips, shifting uncomfortably. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to say. Part of him felt like it had just blocked a perfect spike. He’d spent the past year wondered why he hadn’t been enough for Daishou, and here was Daishou standing there telling him he had been.
The other part of him felt like a shrived corpse. Everything Daishou said had an air of finality to it. Wouldn’t have, not wouldn’t. Were, not are. Loved, not love. He made it sound like that wasn’t the case anymore, and how was Tetsurou supposed to tell him he was desperately in love with him still if Daishou didn’t feel the same way.
“Can we just go to the nurse,” Daishou said, tightening his arms. “My ankle really hurts.”
“Oh, right,” Tetsurou answered, stepping forward and shoving his shoulder back under Daishou’s armpit.
Suguru lay flat on his back, the ceiling of his and Kuroo’s dorm an unappealing white above him. He should probably move. He was taking up almost the entire couch, and he probably looked like an idiot to boot, but Kuroo was the only one who would see him, and he didn’t feel like moving.
“I can’t believe Coach Takao sidelined Watanabe for the rest of the season,” Kuroo said, the shuffle of his fabric giving away his pacing.
“He lost captain too,” Suguru answered, and he didn’t bother hiding the smug satisfaction from his voice. Kuroo let out a low chuckle.
The whole thing had actually surprised Suguru more than he liked to admit. Coach Takao had actually apologized to him for letting things get out of hand. He had let Watanabe push him around in the beginning, not because he thought Suguru was bad, but because he’d wanted to see how much Suguru cared. He’d given Suguru an odd look when he’d said that Suguru just didn’t trust other people with his emotions, but he was on a team and he had to trust his team for his team to trust him.
And fine. Maybe he had a point. He hadn’t trusted his team, but they also hadn’t liked him. Wasn’t it better to show them something he knew they would like? It wasn’t that he was incapable of trusting people. He’d trusting his teammates at Nohebi. He trusted Mika. He’d trusted Kuroo, and alright, in hindsight, maybe if he’d just told Kuroo he didn’t want to break up they wouldn’t be in the mess they were in now, but he’d also never lied.
“You’re thinking hard,” Kuroo said. He lifted Suguru’s legs, sliding onto the couch before setting them back on his lap.
Suguru bit his lip against the shiver he could feel working its way through him. He was in his volleyball clothes, Kuroo’s fingers skimming across his bare thighs, and even after Kuroo’s dumbass confession, Suguru still didn’t understand. Kuroo had basically slotted himself back in Suguru’s life, laughing and sarcastic and casually touching like he didn’t make Suguru burn. Suguru could tell Kuroo wanted him. He was doing that same danced he’d done right before they’d started dating a year ago.
Suguru hadn’t recognized it then, but he did now. He saw the way Kuroo would throw him a cocky smile or touch him teasingly, but then as soon as Suguru opened his mouth and turned toward him, Kuroo would back off, blushing like a schoolboy.
He just didn’t understand why. Kuroo had to know Suguru felt the same way; he’d pretty much said the words, laid them out in front of Kuroo and given him the world’s biggest opening for heartfelt confessions, and Kuroo had just stared at him.
“Daishou?” Kuroo asked, his voice tinged with worry. “Is everything alright?”
“Of course,” Suguru answered. “Everything’s fine. Why wouldn’t everything be fine?”
“Well, usually you’ve made a snarky comment by now,” Kuroo said. His hand was hot against Suguru’s leg, catching along the hairs, and Suguru wished he would keep going up, reach under his shorts and—Suguru pulled his legs away, sitting up on the coach.
“I don’t make snarky comments,” he answered, and Kuroo raised an eyebrow. They were still sitting entirely too close to each other, even though there was a good foot on the other side of Suguru, but he wasn’t about to move away. He was tired of dancing around Kuroo. He was going to get his answers if it killed him.
“Loosing our memory now, are we?” Kuroo asked, his breath hot on Suguru’s face.
Suguru didn’t bother to answer. He just leaned in, pressing his mouth against Kuroo’s. Kuroo let out a surprised little gasp, his mouth opening just enough for Suguru to stick his tongue in. He reached forward and up, his hand grasping Kuroo’s ridiculous hair. He leaned into Kuroo’s warmth, sending them tumbling off the couch with Suguru landing on top of Kuroo with a soft thud.
“Ow,” Kuroo groaned, his hands still locked on Suguru’s waist. Suguru laughed, the sound high and entirely too bubbly to be coming from his mouth. He leaned down, tilting his head as he searched for Kuroo’s lips again. “What are you doing, Daishou?” Kuroo asked, and Suguru jerked back, some horrible feeling that he refused to call dread sinking in his stomach.
“What?”
“No, that’s not—” Kuroo said, his hands tightening on Suguru’s hips, and even if Suguru wanted to move, he wasn’t going anywhere. “I wasn’t trying to—” Kuroo groaned, looking frustrated with himself. Which was entirely warranted, because Suguru was feeling a little frustrated himself. “I just didn’t think you wanted to, you know, do this anymore.”
“What?” Suguru asked, and he knew he must have looked like an idiot with his mouth hanging half open, sprawled across Kuroo, but he didn’t particularly care in that moment. No matter how stupid he looked, Kuroo had him beat.
“It’s just—you said you loved me,” Kuroo said like that explained anything.
“Yeah,” Suguru answered. “And that was your cue to say you love me.”
“Oh,” Kuroo said, blinking once, and Suguru could practically see the light bulb go off. It would have been enduring if he hadn’t spent the past three days wondered where Kuroo had left his brain. “Right.”
“What did you think?” Suguru asked, but when Kuroo opened his mouth, he realized what a stupid question it was, and really, there was only room for one for one of them to be stupid. “No, I don’t want to know. I just want you to stick your dick in me.”
“I can do that,” Kuroo answered, his smile slow and predatory and entirely too arousing to be fair.
Tetsurou sat back on his heels, his hands pressed flat against Daishou’s stomach. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed having Daishou naked in his bed, his legs resting on either side of Testurou’s thighs and his dick hard. Daishou arched his back, pressing up against Tetsurou’s hands and obviously trying to get Tetsurou to touch him.
“You’re impatient,” Tetsurou muttered, running his hands up Daishou’s stomach to rest on his chest.
“I hate you,” Daishou answered, and Tetsurou pinched one of his nipples. Daishou wriggled slightly, making no real effort to get away. “I said dick, not nipples.”
“And bossy,” Tetsurou said, but Daishou was always like this during sex. At least in the beginning. It would take a little more than Tetsurou messing with his nipples for Daishou to stop being bossy.
“Dick into ass,” Daishou answered. “It’s not hard, Kuroo.”
Tetsurou rolled his eyes, but he did pull his hands away from Daishou’s chest. The lube was already on the bed next to him, and he took a second to appreciate his own good thinking before he coated his fingers. Daishou pressed his hips down, his dick bobbing in the air, but Tetsurou had a feeling that wasn’t really where he wanted to be touched. Still, it was inviting.
Tetsurou ran his tongue down the shaft, the taste sharp and entirely Daishou. Daishou jerked, a muffled gasp sounding above Tetsurou’s head. He hadn’t been expecting that then. Tetsurou blew on him, and Daishou’s legs spasmed against his thighs.
“Kuroo,” Daishou muttered, his voice low and hoarse. Tetsurou bit back his smile; Daishou was already a step away from whining.
He pressed one finger against Daishou’s entrance, teasing the ring of muscles, and Daishou grunted, rolling his hips down like he couldn’t wait another second. He was wet and hot around Tetsurou’s finger, and Tetsurou almost groaned at the feeling. It had been so long since he’d been inside of anyone, much less Daishou, and he wanted to do this now, but Daishou was so tight.
“You’re tight,” Tetsurou said, pressing a second finger inside.
“Yeah, well,” Daishou answered, his voice breathless. “Believe it or not, I don’t bottom for just anyone.”
Tetsurou groaned, pressing his forehead against Daishou’s hipbone. He was so hard it was beginning to hurt. Of course, Daishou had to go say something like that. He scissored his fingers, moving as deep inside as he could. If he remembered correctly, Daishou’s prostate was a little to the left and—Daishou moaned loudly, his fingers twisting in Tetsurou’s sheets.
Tetsurou probed the spot again, and Daishou threw his head. His perfect hair was already a mess, sweat beginning to bead at his collar bone. Tetsurou pushed another finger into him, and Daishou shoved his hips down, fucking himself on Tetsurou’s fingers in a way that was entirely too attractive. He bent his head, sucking one of Daishou’s balls into his mouth, and Daishou cried out, his left leg curling around Tetsurou’s waist like he was trying to draw him in.
“Stop!” Daishou yelled, his fingers digging in the skin of Tetsurou’s shoulders. “Stop, stop, stop!” Tetsurou pulled off, his fingers coming out with a wet pop, and Daishou stared up at the ceiling with a dazed expression.
“Are you alright?”
“Get inside me before I cum my brains out,” Daishou said. He was panting hard, his dick standing straight up, and Tetsurou realized that Daishou had stopped him because he’d wanted to cum with Tetsurou inside him. He smiled, adjusting them as he lined himself up.
“Whatever you want, babe,” he said, and Daishou’s gaze flicked down, a touch of annoyance in his eyes.
“Don’t call me—” he cut himself off with a low moan, Tetsurou sinking into him in one slow motion.
He rested for a moment with his ball against Daishou’s ass, and then Daishou’s fingers were digging into his shoulder again. Tetsurou pulled out slowly before sliding back in as gradually as he could, making sure he hit Daishou’s prostate. Daishou’s fingernails tightening on his shoulder, his legs wrapped around Tetsurou waist and his hips rolling up and down like he could make Tetsurou move faster.
Tetsurou pressed a kiss against his left nipple, gliding in and back out. He rolled the nipple between his teeth, Daishou squirming under him. The fingernails were starting to get a little painful, but it was would be worth it when Daishou gave in. He slid back in, moving his lips up to suck at Daishou’s collarbone. It tasted of sweat and sex, and when he pulled back out again, he could see the mark he’d made. He moved to the hollow of Daishou’s throat, licking the sweat that had collected and started pushing carefully back in.
“Tetsu,” Daishou said, and Tetsurou paused. He sounded wrecked, the corner of his left eye wet and his hand clenched so tight on Tetsurou’s shoulder, he wondered if there was blood. “Come on, please.” It was about as close as Daishou came to begging, and Tetsurou wasn’t about to refuse him.
He was already mostly pulled out, so he shifted his hold on Daishou’s hips and slammed back in. Daishou cried out, arching his back as Tetsurou pulled out and shoved back in again. It was a punishing pace, and Tetsurou knew he wasn’t going to last very long with Daishou clamping around him. He reached down, wrapping a hand around Daishou. It only took one pull before Daishou tensed under him, and Tetsurou followed him right over the edge.
He collapsed forward, and Daishou winced as he slipped out. He kissed an apology against Daishou’s throat before tucking his face into his neck. Daishou twisted his hips, moving to lay in a more comfortable position as he wrapped him arms around Tetsurou’s waist. They should probably clean up, he could feel the cum and lube and sweat sticking to them, but he really didn’t want to move.
“If you ever break up with me again, I’ll break your face,” Daishou said, and Tetsurou snorted into his neck. He probably would have been worried if they hadn’t just had mind blowing sex, if he wasn’t in love with Daishou, if he had any plans on ever breaking up with him. “You think I’m joking,” Daishou said.
“I love you,” Tetsurou answered, and Daishou ran his fingers through Tetsurou’s hair, yanking a little too hard when he hit a knot.
“I love you, too,” he said. “Even if you are an idiot.”
~~fin~~