Chapter Text
Thankfully, the evening ended on a slightly higher note than how it'd begun. He’d spent a few more moments hiding out in the bathroom, preparing himself for when he’d inevitably have to get back out there and face Suga and Kuroo. Daichi began to wish that he hadn’t stormed off the way he did, but there was no point in sulking about things that had already happened.
With a last sigh and check of how his hair was holding up, the alpha headed for the door. It’d been long enough that surely Bokuto and Akaashi would have already collected themselves and returned to the bar, he supposed. When he stepped out, Daichi was taken aback to see Kuroo of all people waiting for him by the hallway entrance.
“Listen, man,” he patted him on the shoulder, handing him a new beer, “I'm sorry about earlier. What do you say to forget about it and just enjoy the rest of the night?”
Though Daichi certainly didn't appreciate the number of times the other alpha glanced back at Suga, as if making it obvious that it wasn't his idea to apologize, he accepted the drink and clinked it against Kuroo’s.
“Hope I didn’t hit a nerve or anything like that.” Kuroo was baiting him like he wanted the cop to snap, but Daichi would never allow himself to lose control like that.
“Not at all, dude,” he smiled instead, clenching his fist and letting the prick of his fingernails bring him back to the present, “Thanks for the beer.”
He tuned Kuroo out as they made their way back toward the others, the alpha apparently determined to fill whatever silence remained between them now that he'd gotten his apology out of the way.
Bokuto had found his way to Suga's side in Daichi's absence, talking about something that clearly had nothing to do with Akaashi, judging by the way the omega was laughing. Whatever story he'd launched into had required a considerable amount of gesturing, and Suga was invested as he always was when Bokuto started at it.
It was nice to see him smiling again. Not that Daichi had any particular reason to care whether he was. His gaze moved elsewhere before the thought could settle.
A quick scan of the rest of the bar, and the subsequent lack of Akaashi to be found, likely meant that the younger man hadn’t left his refuge quite yet. Daichi had half a mind to go check on him, though he supposed if Akaashi had no intent to answer to Bokuto, there was no way he would tell Daichi anything. Besides, he doubted Akaashi would appreciate knowing someone else had witnessed the whole thing.
So instead, as they reached the others, Daichi looked at Bokuto. “What happened to your new friend?”
Bokuto's story trailed off. “My…?” His eyes widened in recognition. “Oh.” The athlete laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I think she gave up the second she realized I wasn't gonna buy her a drink.”
Daichi hummed and took a long swig from his beer.
“Actually, I told her to come talk to you.”
The cop choked at his words, beer going down the wrong pipe as he turned sharply away, coughing furiously into his fist. “Me?”
“You okay, dude?” Bokuto said as he reached over and delivered several entirely unnecessary blows between his shoulder blades.
“I'm fine,” Daichi managed, batting his hand away. “Why me?”
“I mean, she was pretty hot.” He shrugged. “Just because I wasn't feeling it doesn't mean you wouldn't.”
Daichi opened his mouth, though he wasn't entirely sure what he intended to say. Then, as seemed to happen far too often lately, his eyes found Suga. He had drawn his lips into a thin line, merely swishing around what was left of his drink in his glass.
The conversation probably just bored him. That was the easiest and most logical explanation. It wasn’t as though Suga had any reason to care who Bokuto tried to send Daichi home with. He looked away before he could start inventing more reasons for the omega’s expression.
And then another thought occurred to him when his attention settled on Kuroo, who had been texting away furiously on his phone. Why else would Bokuto have tried to introduce the woman to Daichi, when the other alpha was right there?
From a woman’s standpoint, Kuroo was likely more attractive than he was, taller for sure. More importantly, Kuroo was considerably more outgoing and hadn't spent half the evening looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. If Bokuto had been redirecting a woman's attention toward someone who might actually entertain it, Kuroo seemed the considerably more obvious choice.
Unless Bokuto hadn’t considered Kuroo an option at all. Daichi’s gaze flicked back toward Suga. Well, perhaps that confirmed it.
If Kuroo and Suga were together, or close enough that everyone else treated them as though they were, then naturally Bokuto wouldn’t have tried to pawn another woman off on him.
“I doubt Daichi wants to be someone's second choice.”
All thoughts vanished as all three men turned their attention toward Suga. The omega seemed to realize, approximately one second too late, that he'd spoken aloud with the way he began to flush furiously. He cleared his throat.
“I mean,” he added, suddenly fascinated by something in the corner, “if she was interested in Bokuto first.”
There was nothing particularly strange about the comment, and yet something about the way Suga refused to look at him made Daichi's chest tighten. He wanted to laugh about the irony of it all.
Second choice, he’d said. If only Suga knew that Daichi would have happily been his second choice. His third, his tenth, probably even his hundredth if being number one hundred meant his name had somehow made the list at all.
It was a humiliating realization. Particularly considering Daichi remained fairly certain the first spot was presently occupied by the taller alpha standing directly beside him.
“Anyway,” Suga said, the word coming out a little too brightly. His eyes finally lifted, darting briefly toward Daichi before settling on Kuroo. “Did Kuroo talk to you about our vacation plans yet?”
Daichi blinked. Our vacation plans? His gaze moved between them. Now why the hell would Kuroo tell him about their vacation? “Not that I know of.”
Just then, the omega’s head snapped toward Kuroo, who immediately lifted both hands.
“The next words out of my mouth!”
Suga glared at him.
“I swear!” Kuroo smirked before turning back toward Daichi. “There’s this annual trip we've been taking since we all moved in,” he explained. “Just a few days at the beach in the last week of July.”
Daichi nodded slowly, still waiting to understand why this information concerned him.
Kuroo scratched absently at his jaw. “It'd be nice if you came.”
Oh. Daichi raised his brows in pleasant surprise.
Before he could answer, Suga immediately cut in. “To be clear, Daichi, we were going to invite you today anyway.” He pointed accusingly at Kuroo. “Before this guy went ahead and caused all the trouble.”
“Hey!”
“You’re making it sound like this is some kind of pity invitation.”
“And you are making it infinitely worse.”
Suga ignored him and looked earnestly at Daichi instead. “We already talked about inviting you, and it won't feel complete if you’re not there.”
Daichi felt warm. There was something unexpectedly pleasant in knowing his presence had been discussed before tonight. That somewhere outside of his company, these people had thought of him and decided they wanted him there.
Kuroo cleared his throat, interrupting the happy thought. “Yeah. So, if you wanna request time off work or something.”
Before Daichi could respond, Bokuto practically lit up. “It's going to be so much fun! We've been doing it since we all moved in here.” Bokuto started counting people off on his fingers. “A couple of my teammates are coming too. Atsumu and Hinata, you've met them, haven't you? The one’s that lived here before?”
“Once or twice.”
“Yeah! And Iwa's coming too. You’ll finally get to meet him.”
Right. Iwaizumi Hajime, the roommate Daichi had replaced.
He'd learned bits and pieces about the man over the past few months, mostly through stories that inevitably began with "when Iwa still lived here", or "Iwa used to". An athletic trainer, if Daichi remembered correctly, and apparently a damn good one. He'd worked with both the MSBY Jackals and Schweiden Adlers at some point, even spent time with Japan's national team, before his career eventually took him overseas to work with athletes in the United States.
His name still came up around the apartment often enough that Daichi sometimes forgot they'd never actually met. If Iwaizumi was making the trip all the way back to Japan for this, then perhaps Daichi had underestimated how much the annual getaway meant to them.
“So this is a whole thing,” he said, looking around at the excitement in each of their faces.
“A very serious tradition,” Suga informed him.
“Very serious,” Bokuto echoed.
Daichi laughed. It sounded like fun, almost like a rite of passage.
“All right,” he said. “I'll see if I can get the time off.”
Suga smiled immediately, and the naked excitement in his voice did something embarrassingly pleasant to Daichi's stomach. He smiled back, but like all good moments with the omega, it had to be cut short by Kuroo’s annoying voice.
“Ah. One thing.” He hesitated. “I don't know if you're single or not, but we usually do no significant others for this.”
Daichi's eyebrows lifted.
“The place is tiny as is,” Kuroo explained. “Not a lot of extra beds. If everybody started bringing someone, we'd be sleeping on top of each other.”
“Not a problem,” Daichi said. “I’m not seeing anyone.”
His eyes met Suga’s, and for one brief, ridiculous moment, Daichi wondered whether he saw something change in the omega's expression. Relief? No. There he went again, imagining things just because he wanted them to be true.
“It's going to be extra special this year anyway,” Suga smiled, “We have so much to celebrate–your promotion, Keiji’s graduation…”
“Speaking of graduates,” Kuroo looked around, “Where is Akaashi?”
The question dampened something in Daichi immediately, and he found himself looking up at Bokuto to see what he would say.
“I'm about ready to close out and get some sleep,” the taller man yawned, “I don't know about you guys, but all that picture-taking has got me beat.”
Suga began to look around, but Bokuto merely took another sip of his drink.
“Haven't seen him,” he said instead, his attention drifting somewhere beyond them as though Akaashi's whereabouts were no more concerning than anyone else's.
He wondered how Bokuto of all people could be so casually cruel like this. Less than half an hour ago, he’d stood in that hallway useless to the omega’s tears, and now he couldn't even be bothered to tell the rest of them.
Then again, Daichi had heard what Akaashi said to him. Perhaps this was Bokuto doing exactly what he'd been asked to do. Perhaps Daichi couldn't fault him for finally listening.
“I'll find him,” Suga said, instead, disappearing into the crowd.
Maybe the trip would do them all some good, Daichi thought. A few days away from work and graduation and whatever strange tension had managed to settle over the apartment lately. Somewhere Bokuto and Akaashi could remember how to be around each other and fall back into old routines, and Kuroo could stop looking at Daichi as though he were waiting for him to commit some unnamed offense.
With enough sun and alcohol and distance from the apartment, Daichi hoped things might even return to normal.
By six-thirty on that Friday morning, Daichi had already decided the weekend could have begun under considerably worse circumstances.
The backseat of Bokuto's car was spacious enough, but when you factored in three grown adults and the luggage of five, it left little room for movement. Though when Daichi considered the alternatives, the middle seat suddenly felt like a blessing.
Bokuto had insisted on driving; it was his car after all. Kuroo had claimed the passenger seat before they’d even left the house, which left Daichi wedged between Akaashi and Suga in the back.
It could have been worse. Much worse.
He could have spent the next few hours sandwiched between Bokuto and Akaashi, forced to sit within the strange gravitational pull that seemed to exist between them regardless of whether they were speaking. That would have left Suga and Kuroo up front like the happy family they were, and banished him to the fate of a middle child.
So this was fine, more than fine, actually.
Things had been strangely quiet since that day at the bar. He hadn’t even heard Bokuto and Akaashi through the walls, let alone catching them with his own two eyes in quite some time. Daichi also couldn’t remember the last time they’d gotten into one of their terribly explosive arguments, either. If he hadn't witnessed Akaashi crying at the bar himself, he might have believed the entire thing had blown over.
He hadn't pried. Neither had anyone else, as far as he knew, and maybe that was for the best.
Within the first hour mark, Akaashi's head dipped once, jerked upright, then dipped again before eventually settling against Daichi's shoulder. He went rigid, looking down to find that the omega was completely asleep.
Well. Daichi didn’t think much about it until twenty minutes later, when something warm landed against his opposite side. His heart gave a stupid little jump. Suga had now set up camp on his other shoulder, sleeping peacefully.
Daichi stared resolutely ahead. Two sleeping omegas had apparently decided he made a suitable pillow. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about the fact, except that Suga's hair was brushing against his jaw. And his breath was tickling the side of his neck. And he smelled nice. And every time Bokuto took a turn too sharply, Suga shifted closer.
Daichi stopped breathing normally somewhere around the third one when Kuroo twisted around from the passenger seat. The alpha's attention dropped immediately to Suga and then back to Daichi, where it remained for one beat longer than necessary.
Before he could decide what to make of that, he caught Bokuto looking through the rearview mirror. At Akaashi, then back to him. Good lord, apparently he'd somehow managed to piss off both alphas by sitting completely still.
When they’d finally pulled up to the property, he'd never been happier to reach a destination.
Kuroo hadn't been exaggerating about the size of the place. The house itself was nice enough, weathered from years beside the ocean but obviously well cared for. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a small kitchen connected to the living room, and a pullout couch that Daichi suspected had witnessed better decades.
The real appeal became obvious the second Suga opened the back door. The back patio area had near-perfect access to the beach in addition to the beautiful view of water stretched uninterrupted toward the horizon, sunlight scattered across its surface.
Suga giggled from behind him as Daichi took in the scenery. “Worth being crushed in the backseat?”
“Ask me again Sunday,” he smiled back, earning him a playful shove from the omega.
He barely had time to overreact before a shorter, tanner man came barreling toward him. Hinata stopped short of actually colliding with him. “Daichi! You came!”
“It’s good to see you again, Hinata,” he chuckled when Atsumu appeared behind him carrying a bag of chips he'd evidently already opened.
“Yo,” the blonde waved with two fingers, “Have you arrested anyone yet?”
“Weekend's young.”
The two of them had arrived earlier in the morning, and they’d spent the next few hours lounging around the house waiting for the rest of the group to arrive.
Daichi had met both men enough times by now to converse easily. Hinata somehow seemed to contain more energy than Bokuto despite being half his size, while Atsumu had the sort of confidence Daichi associated with people who had spent most of their lives being told they were exceptionally good at something. Kinda like Kuroo, but he tolerated the blonde infinitely more because he actually had the talent to back up that inflated ego.
Hinata looked around at his teammates as Bokuto began unloading the car.
“It feels kinda weird without Sakusa,” he said, reaching over to munch on some of Atsumu’s chips.
The other man scoffed, “Omi would've taken one look at this place and demanded his own room.”
They'd barely finished carrying everything inside when another car pulled into the gravel drive. A broad-shouldered man climbed out from behind the wheel, tanned and solidly built, with short, spiky hair that Daichi recognized immediately from the handful of photos he'd seen around the apartment.
“Well, look who it is!” Hinata exclaimed, abandoning the bag he'd been carrying to hurry over.
Daichi had to admit, the photos didn't quite do him justice. He and Iwaizumi Hajime were roughly the same height, but that was about where the comparison ended. Daichi considered himself to be in good shape; his job practically demanded it, but even he had to concede that Iwaizumi had him beat when it came to muscle definition.
Before Daichi had the chance to introduce himself, the passenger door opened. A second man unfolded himself from the car, taller than both of them by a couple of inches. He stretched both long arms lazily over his head before pushing a pair of sunglasses farther up the bridge of his nose, apparently unbothered by the attention his arrival immediately attracted.
Daichi didn't recognize him. He did, however, recognize that the man was gorgeous. Pretty with the same sort of striking beauty Akaashi had, where Daichi could confidently say that if he'd encountered the man at a bar, he would've known better than to even consider approaching.
“What the hell is he doing here?”
Daichi turned to find that Kuroo had reappeared in the doorway on his way out for another load and stopped dead at the sight of their newest arrival.
The brunette lowered his sunglasses just enough to peer over the frames. “What a welcome.”
“I thought we agreed on no significant others,” Hinata said, looking genuinely put out. Then his eyes widened as though another, considerably more important problem had only just occurred to him. “Man, Kageyama's gonna be pissed.”
Iwaizumi let out an awkward laugh, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. The gesture told Daichi just about everything he needed to know regarding how much say he'd had in the matter.
“Come on,” Bokuto said with a laugh. “I'd take an Argentinian over an Adler any day.” He crossed the remaining distance and pulled Iwaizumi into a brief hug, earning a firm clap on the back in return.
“Good to see you again, dude.” Bokuto pulled away before acknowledging the man beside him. “You too, Oikawa.”
Oikawa Tooru. Right, that’s why he looked so familiar. The setter who played for Argentina's national team, and, if Daichi's social media feed was anything to go by, seemed to go viral almost as frequently for his face as he did for actually playing volleyball.
His gaze drifted over the rest of the group at Bokuto, Hinata, Atsumu, Oikawa, and even Iwaizumi, who’d spent years working alongside professional and national-level athletes. He'd known all of this individually, of course. Somehow, having them gathered in one place made it considerably more absurd. Daichi suddenly felt very aware that the most impressive thing he'd accomplished recently was getting promoted at the local police department.
“If I'm going to fly all the way back to Japan,” Oikawa announced, apparently deciding his presence required some justification, “during the only time I can get off for the foreseeable future, you're insane if you think I'm spending half of it away from my boyfriend because of some rule you people invented years ago.”
Fair enough, Daichi thought. And judging by the general lack of any real outrage from the others, Oikawa's presence wasn't actually much of a problem. At least, not socially.
Atsumu glanced toward the house. “So where's he sleeping?”
“Yeah, we already had everyone sorted,” Kuroo said as he set the bags in his hands down on the porch.
“Sort it again.”
Daichi merely laughed at the nerve that began to twitch in Kuroo’s forehead. Finally, there was someone here who could put up a real fight. He was starting to like Oikawa already.
Hinata, apparently having accepted Oikawa's presence already, looked toward Atsumu. “You might have to take the couch.”
Atsumu frowned, though he didn't seem particularly offended by the suggestion. “I thought I was with Iwa.”
“You were,” Kuroo said. “But unless you want Oikawa sleeping between the two of you…”
Atsumu considered that for half a second. “Couch is fine.”
A quiet laugh went around the group. Daichi looked toward Bokuto. “What about you?”
“I've got the car,” Bokuto shrugged.
Daichi blinked. “The car?”
“Yeah…I usually sleep out there anyway.”
“Why?”
Bokuto looked mildly embarrassed. “I’ve been told that I snore.”
Daichi's eyes moved instinctively toward Akaashi. The omega stood several feet away with one of the bags still in his hands, his attention lowered toward the zipper as though the conversation hadn't interested him at all. He didn't bother jumping at the chance to offer the sort of familiar complaint Daichi might have expected from someone who had spent many a night sleeping with him.
He looked away before the observation could become too pointed, instead finding Kuroo, who looked as if he was already mentally rearranging everyone.
“All right. Iwaizumi and Oikawa take one room. Daichi and I stay where we were. Suga and Akaashi can take the larger bed in the third, and Hinata can use the other one.” Somewhere early on, Kuroo had decided that he and Daichi would share a room for some fucking reason. Daichi half expected it to be some sort of power play, as if it wasn’t enough that he and Suga were suspected to be hooking up behind the scenes. Perhaps the other man wanted him to see it with his own two eyes. “And Atsumu gets the pullout,” he finished.
Bokuto lifted a hand. “And I'm still in the car.”
“Bo, You're the only person whose arrangement wasn’t gonna change.”
“Just making sure.”
There was another small ripple of laughter, softer this time. Daichi found himself looking around the group again. Hinata and Atsumu had already gone back to unloading coolers. Suga was helping Kuroo reorganize the bags. Iwaizumi had finally made it onto the porch, Oikawa trailing close behind him. Bokuto was talking animatedly about getting to the beach before the afternoon crowd arrived.
Akaashi remained quiet. For a moment, Daichi wondered whether anyone else noticed. Then Suga called his name and held out a hand for the bag he was carrying, and whatever thought had started to form disappeared with it.
_
By the late afternoon, someone had produced a volleyball and what followed was more fun than Daichi could have experienced in all his time in the city thus far.
It started casually enough. Hinata and Atsumu had been passing the ball back and forth near the water when Oikawa wandered over and drew some lines in the sand with his heel. Somehow, within the next ten minutes, a net had been strung up between poles that looked questionably stable, and nearly everyone had been dragged into playing.
With not enough for a proper game and varying degrees of willingness to participate, they settled into rotating doubles. The rules were loose, games were short, and partners changed often enough that Daichi eventually lost track of who had played with whom. The only pairing everyone seemed unanimously opposed to was Hinata and Oikawa.
It took Daichi approximately one game to understand why. Hinata was nearly impossible to score against. The sand didn't seem to hinder him in the slightest; if anything, it only made watching him more impressive. He moved with an ease that made everyone else look sluggish by comparison, throwing himself after balls Daichi would've considered long lost and somehow recovering quickly enough to do it again seconds later.
Oikawa was less explosive, but considerably more frustrating. There was a precision to everything he did. He didn't waste much movement and rarely seemed caught off guard, as though he had already worked out where everyone else would be several seconds before they got there. That being said, keeping the two of them separated was less a rule than an act of mercy.
Daichi had expected to embarrass himself. It had been years since he'd played with any regularity, and there was something uniquely humbling about stepping onto a makeshift court surrounded by people who had either played professionally or spent a significant portion of their lives around those who did.
Fortunately, whatever technique he'd forgotten hadn't taken his athleticism with it. He was quick enough, strong enough, and had enough of the basics buried somewhere in his memory to keep the ball alive more often than not. Once he stopped worrying about looking incompetent, he even began to enjoy himself.
Being paired with Atsumu helped considerably. Daichi's best game of the afternoon came when the two of them were up against Kuroo and Oikawa. Playing beside Atsumu almost felt unfair. Daichi only needed to get himself vaguely where he was supposed to be and, more often than not, the ball arrived at exactly the height and angle he needed.
There was also the matter of the sun, which Kuroo and Oikawa had unfortunately ended up on the side facing it. Daichi had no intention of pretending that hadn't helped. Still, when the final ball dropped into the sand on their side of the net, and Atsumu confirmed the point, a ridiculous rush of satisfaction went through him.
That he’d had both Atsumu and the sun on his side didn’t take away from the fact that he’d beaten Kuroo. Daichi was still smiling when he left the court, though he attempted to temper it once he noticed Kuroo's expression. It didn't work particularly well. Suga caught his eye from where he sat in the sand and gave him an approving little clap, which only made it harder. Perhaps he was more competitive than he'd thought.
As the afternoon wore on, Daichi got a better sense of everyone else's ability. It was Akaashi who surprised him the most.
Daichi knew he'd played in school, but he'd never given much thought to how good he'd actually been. He wasn't comparable to the professionals surrounding him, but he moved efficiently, rarely panicked when a receive went poorly, and seemed particularly good at salvaging balls that should have ended a point.
More than anything, he was clever. Akaashi paid attention, and within a few points of playing someone, he seemed to have a fairly good idea of what they were likely to do next. Daichi watched him exploit that more than once.
It was also the most relaxed Daichi had seen him since the bar. He smiled when Hinata made an unnecessarily impressive save. Giggled when Oikawa sent himself sprawling into the sand trying to keep a ball alive. Once, after Daichi badly misjudged a serve and nearly took it to the face, Akaashi laughed hard enough that he had to turn away.
Daichi was glad to see it. But only after several rotations did he notice that Akaashi and Bokuto were the only ones who hadn’t played with each other. At first, Daichi assumed it was just a coincidence. There were enough of them that not every combination would come up, and nobody seemed particularly interested in keeping track.
Then a space opened beside Bokuto, and Akaashi remained seated. Later, when Akaashi returned, Bokuto was the one who stayed out. Neither made anything of it.
He pushed the thought aside when Suga joined him for the next game. Of all the people Daichi played beside that afternoon, Suga should probably have been one of his worst partners. Neither of them had anything approaching the experience of most of the group. The omega’s technique was inconsistent, and Daichi was relying almost entirely on old instincts and general athleticism.
Somehow, they worked. Maybe not immediately; Their first few points involved enough near collisions and uncertain calls that Daichi expected their pairing to be short-lived. But once they settled, something clicked.
Suga learned quickly that Daichi could cover more of the court and stopped wasting energy chasing anything Daichi was already moving toward. Daichi, in turn, began recognizing the difference between the balls Suga intended to take and the ones he wanted Daichi to cover.
They started anticipating each other. Nothing complicated, just a glance or a call of his name. Somehow it was enough. Daichi found himself moving before Suga asked him to, trusting that the ball would arrive somewhere he could reach. Suga did the same.
Maybe they weren’t the best pair, but they were certainly good together. Better than either of them had been with several technically stronger partners. When they managed their first win, Suga turned toward him with such immediate delight that Daichi found himself grinning back before he'd even registered the score.
That victory felt better than beating Oikawa and Kuroo had, and so they stayed together for another rotation and then another. Eventually they were forced off by a loss to Hinata and Iwaizumi, though Daichi couldn't bring himself to care much. His legs were beginning to ache anyway, and the pleasant exhaustion settling into his muscles suggested he'd regret every unnecessary dive come morning.
By the time everyone made it back inside, showered and changed, no one had much interest in cooking. Iwaizumi suggested a restaurant they'd apparently visited the year before, a small family-owned place farther up the coast, and the decision was made with very little debate.
They occupied most of two tables pushed together near the back. Daichi found himself seated once again between Akaashi and Suga, with Iwaizumi and Oikawa across from them.
They made for an interesting couple, he thought. Oikawa seemed like the sort of man who could be difficult and stubborn when he wanted to be; entirely too accustomed to getting his way. Daichi had known him for less than a day and had already gathered that much. Iwaizumi, however, didn't seem to find any of it particularly difficult. He listened as Oikawa spoke, occasionally correcting him or adding something when his version of events became particularly dramatic, but there was never any real impatience behind it.
If anything, Daichi got the impression that Iwaizumi had simply learned how to handle him. He knew which complaints weren't worth entertaining, which ones actually meant something, and when a single look would accomplish more than arguing ever could. Oikawa, for his part, seemed to know exactly how far he could push before that look appeared. Whatever patience the relationship required, Daichi suspected Iwaizumi had stopped thinking of it as patience a long time ago.
“How long have you two been together?” he eventually asked, when the shared recounts of stories dared to venture into their primary school days.
The two of them exchanged a glance.
“Depends what you count,” Iwaizumi said.
It wasn't the answer Daichi expected.
Oikawa smiled. “We've known each other since we were kids.”
“Unfortunately.”
There was a thud from beneath the table, which likely came from Iwaizumi being kicked in the shin.
“We grew up together,” Iwaizumi continued. “We even played volleyball together all throughout.”
“Then he abandoned me for California,” the setter added.
“And you retaliated by relocating to Argentina.”
Daichi felt that something about their story sounded strangely familiar. He thought of Michimiya. Different circumstances, certainly, but the foundation was similar. Someone whose life had overlapped with his for so long that, at one point, becoming something more had seemed almost inevitable. For him, it hadn't worked, but apparently for the two men across from him, it had.
“Was long distance difficult?” Suga asked from beside him.
“Terrible,” Oikawa groaned, rolling his eyes in the process.
Iwaizumi nodded. “It still is sometimes,” he squeezed his partner’s hand. “But I think when you've known someone that long, you get pretty good at knowing what's worth holding onto.”
The setter looked as if he was holding back tears.
“Sometimes you just know someone's it for you,” Iwaizumi continued, “Then there isn’t much point trying to convince yourself you'd rather try it with somebody else.”
It was a simple enough statement. Still, Daichi’s eyes betrayed him as they moved toward Suga. The omega was listening to Iwaizumi, chin resting loosely against one hand. He looked away before anyone noticed.
“That’s pretty poetic, Iwa,” Atsumu said from farther down the table, “But I don't know if I'd go that far.”
Iwaizumi glanced toward him.
“Sometimes moving on's the right thing too,” he shrugged.
“You speaking from experience?” Oikawa asked.
“Aren't we all?”
That earned a few smiles.
“I was seeing someone back home for a while,” Atsumu took a drink, “Before I left Hyogo.”
“Someone we know?” Bokuto asked.
“No, just some senior on my team. He doesn’t play anymore; it doesn’t matter.”
There wasn't any bitterness in the answer. That was what caught Daichi's attention.
“Did moving end it?” Suga asked.
Atsumu considered his glass. “More or less. Wasn't some dramatic thing, I just wanted to see what else was out there.”
“Did Osamu go pick up the pieces?” Hinata asked, raising his brows suggestively.
“My twin,” Atsumu clarified, presumably for Daichi's benefit. “Nah, Samu and I've got completely different types. We'd probably never get ourselves into something like that.”
Daichi could have sworn Atsumu looked directly at Akaashi when he said it. Akaashi, however, had suddenly become rather interested in something across the restaurant. Stranger still, Bokuto's attention had wandered in the opposite direction.
It lasted no more than a few seconds. Neither said anything, and Atsumu didn't seem to expect them to. By the time Daichi thought to make anything of it, the setter had already taken another drink.
“I don't regret it,” Atsumu continued. “He was good to me. I was happy. Then I got to be happy doing other things too.”
Daichi considered that. It was almost the exact opposite of what Iwaizumi had said, and yet neither sounded particularly wrong.
Hinata apparently agreed. “I don't think those are the only options.”
Atsumu looked toward him. “What d'you mean?”
“Sometimes you have to try something else before you really know for certain.”
There was something about the way he said it that made Kuroo glance over.
“Like, you can think you've moved on from somebody,” Hinata continued, “and then you date someone else or hook up with someone else and realize–oh. No. Still them.”
Kuroo snickered. “Atsumu doesn't count.”
As if on cue, Hinata's face immediately fell into his hands.
“Oh, come on,” Atsumu groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Can we not bring that up?”
Daichi looked between them and then at Kuroo, who appeared entirely too pleased with himself.
He waited for an explanation, which Bokuto seemed more than happy to provide. “The two of them used to sleep together.”
Atsumu sighed. “Don’t say it like that. It was one time.”
The distinction appeared to matter greatly to both men. Daichi stared at them. Hinata and Atsumu?
Perhaps the information surprised him so much because he'd already known about Kageyama. Hinata mentioned him often enough that Daichi had unconsciously filed the two of them away as something longstanding and uncomplicated. High school sweethearts, separated for some period of time by circumstance before eventually finding their way back to one another.
Apparently, there had been considerably more to the middle of that story. The embarrassment around the table faded quickly. Atsumu didn't seem particularly bothered by the history itself, only by everyone else's apparent enjoyment in bringing it up. Hinata recovered soon after, shaking his head with the expression of someone who had long ago accepted that certain stories would follow him forever.
What struck Daichi most was how little awkwardness there seemed to remain between them. They sat beside each other as comfortably as they had all evening. Not an ounce of lingering tension after the revelation, no careful avoidance or indication that either considered the other some regrettable mistake best left unmentioned. Whatever had happened between them had happened, and then life went on.
“It was right after I joined MSBY,” Hinata explained. “Tobio and I weren't together then. We hadn't been for a while.”
His expression softened almost immediately at the mention of Kageyama. “I really thought I was over him. I think I wanted to be over him, because it would've made everything easier. We were finally in the same country again, playing against each other, and I didn't want to fall right back into whatever we'd been before.”
Daichi listened.
Hinata glanced briefly toward Atsumu before continuing. “We got back together eventually. Took us a while to figure it out, but...” A smile tugged at his mouth. “We're happier now than we were back then. Better at it too, probably.”
That seemed to be the end of the story as far as Hinata was concerned. Conversation gradually resumed around him, but Daichi remained quiet. It was an interesting distinction.
Being attracted to someone didn't necessarily have to mean everything. More importantly, acting on that attraction didn't have to transform it into something it wasn't.
Hinata and Atsumu had crossed a line Daichi had always imagined to be rather permanent. They had slept together, discovered that there wasn't anything more waiting on the other side of it, and somehow returned to being exactly what they had been before. Friends, roommates, teammates, all of the above. Good ones, that too, judging by the ease with which they interacted now.
Daichi found himself looking toward Suga again. He'd spent months treating the boundary between them as though it were made of glass; one wrong move and the entire thing would shatter.
Part of that caution was sensible. Suga mattered to him independently of whatever attraction Daichi had developed, and the thought of making their home or friendship uncomfortable had always seemed reason enough to keep certain thoughts firmly to himself.
But perhaps he'd given one moment too much power. A kiss didn't have to become a relationship, and attraction didn't have to become love.
If two people could sleep together and still sit side by side years later, laughing about how thoroughly it had failed to mean anything, then perhaps wanting Suga didn't have to be quite as dangerous as Daichi had made it.
The realization should have been comforting. Instead, Daichi wasn't particularly worried anymore about what would happen if he kissed Suga and discovered it meant nothing. Somewhere along the way, he'd become far more afraid of discovering just how much he wanted it to mean.