Chapter Text
.February 2012.
Asahi toes off his shoes right inside of the front door. He wipes his hands on his uniform pants. Tries not to be nosy. Tries not to freak out. Is he usually this sweaty? He hunches his shoulders in a little tighter and whispers, “Thank you for having me.”
Noya squawks from behind him, where he's hanging his coat. “Thank me? Thank you , dude, you're really saving my ass here. English sucks so bad this term.” He steps into the hallway and beckons Asahi to follow him. “Gramps will be home in an hour or so, I think - he had ‘plans with an old friend,’ which probably means a date.” Noya rolls his eyes heavenward, fond but exasperated, a common theme when he speaks of his grandfather.
Asahi stutters, chokes. “A date? Your grandfather?”
“All the time,” Noya says, snorting. “The man’s got more game than, like, anyone I've ever met. Anyway - you hungry?”
Noya leads Asahi into the small kitchen at the back of the house. Through the back door window, Asahi spies a small, quaint garden full of what appears to be stone statues of - animals? He does not ask.
Noya chatters away as he digs through the pantry, talking about practice and classes and the vending machine being out of his favorite juice today. Asahi lets the white noise wash over him, the quiet comfort of the house, the tinkle of the wind chimes outside, the hum of Noya’s voice and his sock-footed steps. Asahi wonders if it will snow again this year.
“Asahi?”
Asahi snaps his attention back to Noya. His face heats up, and the anxiety rears its ugly head tenfold. “Uh, uhm -”
“I asked,” Noya says, with the same sort of fond impatience he'd used when mentioning his grandfather, “if rice crackers were okay?” He shakes the bag at Asahi.
Asahi nods without really considering his answer.
Noya frowns. Asahi winces.
“Okay, what's up with you?”
Asahi shrinks even more, and he laughs at himself, quietly, probably too meanly. “Sorry, I'm - distracted. Your home is really wonderful. It’s, uhm. Calming.”
Noya blinks, and his mouth opens and closes twice before he answers, like that was the very last thing he expected Asahi to say. He digs one of his toes into the floorboards and shifts around a little. “Thanks,” he says, quietly. “It's, uh. Yeah. It can be quiet.”
They don't speak for a moment. For two.
There's a lot to say, but nothing they'll put into words this afternoon. They’re so young.
Asahi speaks before his brain can stop him. “I can't imagine anywhere being very quiet with you around.” He blanches. “I mean - you're just - it's - ”
Noya breaks out into loud, cackling laughter. “ Asahi ,” he wheezes, and he falls into another bout of giggles. It takes him much longer than Asahi was ready to emotionally handle to catch his breath. “I mean, you're right, but - sorry, you just don't usually joke around with us, I wasn't expecting it.” He wipes his eyes. “Maybe quiet wasn't the right word.” He thinks, shrugs. “It can be sometimes, though. It's only the two of us.”
He thinks some more, then says, “You should loosen up a little, Asahi, yaknow, it's a good look on you.”
Asahi shies away from the words, mumbling, “I’m trying.”
Noya reaches over and claps Asahi on the arm, startling him a little. “I know, big guy. Let's head to my room, yeah? Do you want to stay for dinner?”
Asahi stares down at him. This small, loud, excited first year, with one of the most intense gazes Asahi has ever stared down. One of the cheesiest grins.
Asahi smiles at him. “Sure, I'd like that.”
.
.June 2017.
AZUMANE ASAHI [8:29 PM]: Hey, so. They actually gave me three tickets, not two, for my final runway before I graduate. I know this is a long shot, and you really didn't plan to come home so soon, but would you like to come?
.
When Noya was young, everyone told him being an extrovert would make it easy on him. They clearly never imagined this:
Three chairs among a sea of many, floating amongst a crowd of brightly colored heads and geometric dresses. A runway, lit with soft shades of greens and blues and pinks, big stacks of speakers suspended over the center. The headmaster currently talking onstage would have sent Noya to sleep twenty minutes ago - it sounds like they're going to give the entire history of the school before this all starts, why? - except he's sat stiff and straight and directly next to Azumane Asahi’s mother. And on the other side of her, Asahi’s older sister. They had known his name when he arrived.
And now they had to sit quietly and listen. Just. Next to each other.
Noya’s not sure why he just assumed he'd have a seat in the middle of a bunch of strangers. He’s not sure he even considered this possibility. But here he is. An idiot of his own creation, or however the saying goes.
The speaker finishes. The music kicks up, and they've got ten minutes until the models will be up there. Or, it's supposed to be ten minutes. One of the first things Asahi had lamented about when he started going to fashion shows was how late everything always started, so it was really a toss up.
“So, Nishinoya,” Asahi’s mom pipes up, and she really is so nice , like, the nicest. It makes Noya inexplicably nervous . He's realizing in real time that his entire family communicates in jibing and jokes - really, look at his Gramps, come on - and that he clearly spent too much time at Ryuu’s house, because his whole family communicates in jibes and jokes.
And Mama Azumane does not. And his perception that all families are like that was incorrect. Holy fuck.
“Asahi has told me that you recently spent time in Brazil, yes? Was it warm there?”
“Uh,” Noya says, stupidly. He wipes his hands on his pants and digs for the part of himself that can talk like a normal person, please . “Yeah, it was. Their seasons are opposite of ours, though, so it was late summer moving into autumn, anyway.” Is it rude to ask someone if they've ever traveled outside of the country? He is suddenly too nervous to pull his phone out, what if Asahi has just been being too nice about the pictures he's been sending and then he just -
“Oh, that's so interesting, I hadn't thought about that! I'm not sure I’ve ever thought of traveling to South America. Why there?”
This is worse than any quiz he'd ever failed in school. “Uhm, a friend of ours - mine and Asahi - well, a teammate from when we were in school, is living there right now. He's been training by playing beach volleyball in hopes of getting signed to a men’s league team next year. He was a first year when Asahi graduated - he was in the starting lineup - you probably remember him, the redhead with the crazy vertical jump?”
“Oh, the really small one? Well, other than -”
She cuts herself off. A flush climbs up her face. Asahi’s sister leans over and grins, all teeth. “Yaknow, other than you.”
Asahi’s mom launches into a fit of apologizing so befit of her son that Noya is cracking up with giggles that devolve into full-blown guauffs before he can stop himself. He can see Asahi’s own timid arms on the woman sitting next to him, the way her eyebrows tilt in concern that she may have offended him. “No, no,” he says, in what he hopes is a placating tone, because Noya is an adult now, thanks, he can take anxious commentary on his height like it was given: kindly. “Don’t apologize. You're right, Ms. Azumane - I was the shortest member of our team before and after Hinata joined. Good thing I never needed to spike the ball, huh?”
Asahi’s mom covers her face with her hands. “That was so rude of me,” she says in despair, and Asahi’s sister pats her mother on the shoulder. “And please,” she says, recovering, “you're dating my son, call me Amaya.”*
Noya, for a million reasons and not one that he understands, flushes. “Oh, okay. Uhm, sure. Thank you.”
Asahi’s older sister catches his eye. “Aoi. I graduated two years before Asahi started at Karasuno, so we never would have met, but it's good to meet you now.” She leans in conspiratorially. “Asahi made it this big deal about telling us about you, and we were more surprised that you'd just recently started dating, like he hasn't talked about you nonstop for years.”
Noya, somehow, blushes harder.
The music quiets. Aoi whispers way too loudly, “We’ll talk later, okay?” Noya really likes her.
The show begins.
.
“And the way the fabric moved like fire was so fucking sick - I mean, hello? Why can't we all wear flame capes every day. I want to look like that.”
The streets of Yoyogi are busy, the summer air and city lights encouraging the Friday night art crowd out and onto the sidewalks. Asahi has been quietly laughing along to Noya’s tirad for the better part of the last half hour. They'd walked Asahi’s family back to their hotel room with the promise of breakfast in the morning - and Noya had been fully sworn into being there, so he guesses he isn't intruding. Lately, he’s been trying to practice just believing people when they ask him to be places, and treating them like they’re weird for asking if they didn’t actually mean it. He meets too many strangers when he travels to question everyone other than if they’re, like, a serial killer or something.
“I could make you one,” Asahi offers.
Noya shakes his head. “No, no.” He pauses and actually takes a minute to think it over. Agrees with himself again. “No, your models were like a million feet tall. Make me something to make me look cool, if you want.” He thinks about it again. “No, definitely not - it was really fucking cool thought.”
Asahi shies away from the praise. “Thank you.”
“You're very fucking welcome. I should be thanking you for inviting me. I'm glad I could be here.” Noya grabs Asahi’s hand and squeezes. “I'm really proud of you, yaknow. And graduation next week!” He swings their hands. “AND with a job lined up!”
Asahi tugs Noya out of the way of oncoming foot traffic, blushing and speaking in a loud whisper. “Shhh, not so loud.”
“Not so LOUD?” Noya questions, louder. “You want me to quiet down? About how awesome your final runway was for graduating from a super competitive fashion school as a talented designer ? And a brand that makes and sells clothes right now already wants you to work for them? You want me to be quiet about that?”
Asahi looks so embarrassed. He's also grinning like a fool.
They meander back to Asahi’s building. They stumble through the main door, kiss on the stairs, and wave hello to Ms. Mei’s plants as they make their way through Asahi’s front door. The apartment is dark and cozy, the orange of the street lights outside casting a soft glow across the living room.
The door clicks closed.
Asahi’s back presses into the door as Noya, hands splayed across Asahi’s chest, crowds into Asahi’s space and makes room for himself there. He digs his fingers into the lapels of Asahi’s suit jacket and tugs. “ Fuck , you look so good in this thing,” he murmurs, and he drags Asahi’s lips down to his own. They kiss once, twice, and Asahi sighs into it, melts under Noya’s hands as Noya snakes his thin fingers across Asahi’s chest and slides two of them in between the buttons of Asahi’s shirt. Noya rubs his thumb along the seam, breathes in. “And in silk .”
Asahi sucks in a heavy, hot gasp. “I didn’t,” he swallows, tries again. “I didn’t know you had a thing for silk.”
“Me neither,” Noya pipes. He pops the button open beneath his fingers and draws Asahi into another kiss. He tugs Asahi’s lower lip between his teeth.
He brushes his fingertips across the warm skin of Asahi’s chest, loves the way goosebumps trail behind the light scratch of his fingernail. Asahi’s chest stutters, and Noya itches with want. Loves the way Asahi takes the weight of Noya’s entire body like it's nothing, loves the way he fights to keep breathing even when they're both headrushing and hot, gasping around eachother’s mouths, fuck . He loves the groan that comes somewhere deep from Asahi’s throat.
Loves Asahi, probably.
A scary thought for another day.
“I’m so fucking proud of you,” Noya mutters, and he marvels at the way Asahi trembles under his hands. Asahi’s fingers tighten where they’ve migrated to Noya’s hips, flexing as he pants against Noya’s mouth.
“I think you deserve a reward,” Noya says, quiet, distant, mind already gearing up the creative ways they could spend the rest of their evening. The stubble burn on his skin lights up as he mouths his way up to Asahi’s collarbone. He tugs at the soft fabric and reveals just enough skin to sink his teeth into, just a tiny sting. Asahi arches beneath him. Noya sucks in a breath. “I just want - I’d kill to suck you off. Can I?”
Asahi goes rigid under Noya’s fingers immediately. “Uhm,” he says, quickly.
“What?” Noya says, just as fast, and he takes two big steps back and snatches his hands away. He takes stock of Asahi, his wide eyes, pupils blown but features closed off. The way his shoulders shrink and collapse and he tugs at the hem of his jacket. He takes a deep breath, two, trying to use his stupid fucking brain when he can feel his pulse in his fingertips . “ Fuck , Asahi, what did I say? What?”
Asahi’s mouth works but nothing comes out. He looks -
Embarrassed .
Noya wracks his brain, what did he do, what did he do , and then he realizes.
“Asahi, have you never - ”
Asahi flinches.
Noya wants to kick himself in the face.
“Fuck, shit, we haven’t talked about this, I’m sorry ,” he says, and he can’t figure out how to make his words not sound obnoxious and hollow. He presses his palms into his eyes for one, two, three seconds. “I fucked this up, I’m so fucking sorry, fuck .”
“You didn’t,” Asahi says, quietly. “I’m sorry, it’s not that I don’t want to, I, uhm, I just - ”
“Stop. Stop ,” Noya cuts him off, and then he takes a very deep breath to stop himself from sounding mean. He’s angry at himself, not Asahi. And the last thing he needs to do right now is make Asahi more upset, shit . “You didn’t do anything wrong, do not apologize to me. We should have talked way before I tried to jump your bones, I’m sorry. Shit.”
Asahi laughs, kiss-bitten lips and beautiful , and Noya feels his own shoulders release as he watches Asahi uncoil, anxious but looking less like he would tip over if you touched him. Asahi wipes his palms on his slacks and takes a tiny step forward. “No, it was - this was good, it was,” Asahi swallows, hard, and Noya finds a pleased little grin on his face before he can stop himself. It does a little something to chase off the guilty pit in his stomach. “It was good. I just - wasn’t expecting to be so? Surprised? I guess. I'm sorry.”
Asahi flushes, but not in the good way. A frown tugs down Noya’s lips.
“Hey,” Noya says, quietly, batting off the last remnants of bubbly anger he’d had with himself, at least for now. “ Hey . I don’t know what’s going on up there in that big, beautiful, nervous brain of yours, but you don’t have anything to be sorry for. And frankly, you don’t owe me shit, so I don’t know why you’d be sorry to me .” He takes a few soft steps forward and reaches up, cradling Asahi’s face. They breathe together for a moment. “I’m sorry I made you so nervous,” Noya whispers. “I never want to do that to you.”
“Too late,” Asahi whispers back. “I’m so nervous around you I can barely stand it.”
Noya stutters out a surprised laugh. He grabs onto Asahi’s cheeks. “What? Why?”
“Look at you,” Asahi manages to say through his mushed lips.
Noya chuckles and lets go. Goes quiet. He rocks back on his heels and presses his fingers into his own face again. He lets out a deep, deep sigh. “This was supposed to be your night. God.”
Asahi reaches out and tugs Noya’s hands down. He smiles, gentle. “It has been - it is. Thank you for coming today. For being here now.” He blushes again, but this time he skirts his eyes to the side, clearly fighting against the words he’s about to say. “And, to be honest. I do, uhm. Want to take you up on your offer. Just not. Tonight. If that’s okay.”
Noya punches him in the arm. “Don’t ask me if it’s okay, you big baby. Stand your ground! If it wasn’t okay, I would be the problem here, okay? I would be .”
“I know, I know,” Asahi laughs, rubbing his arm. “And we’ll talk - later? Tomorrow.”
“Sure,” Noya agrees, easily, quietly. He reaches out and takes one of Asahi’s hands. “Can I make you tea?”
“I'd like that,” Asahi says back, just as quiet. Noya can't shake the feeling he's holding glass in his hands, like if he speaks too loudly or moves too fast it might all shatter between his fingers.
He's never been more afraid than he is of destroying all of this, has he?
“Hey,” Asahi says, and he steps into Noya’s space like he belongs there. And he does.
He slides his hands into the hair at the back of Noya’s neck and pulls him into a soft, slow kiss. Asahi pulls back an inch and says, “I'm really okay. Please don't be worried - I'm not upset, I'm fine, we're fine. Okay?”
Noya chuckles, almost humorlessly. “Look at you, being the level-headed one in this relationship.”
Asahi laughs. “I have my moments.”
Noya grins up at him, tugs Asahi’s hands into his own, and then he breathes out a long, slow breath. “Okay!” He says, and he squeezes Asahi’s fingers. “Okay. Let's have some tea.”
.
Asahi’s alarm goes off early - at least by his standards - and he acts like it. He reaches for the clock on his nightstand violently, grabbing for it in a flurry of mechanical - and, frankly, dramatic - motions. It falls to silence.
From the foot of the bed, Noya whistles an impressed sound and pulls on his other sock.
Asahi shoves his head under his pillow.
“I’ll be sure to let your mom know what a chore it is to get up for breakfast with her,” Noya teases, and Asahi groans. He peeks his head from beneath the pillow.
“Yuuuuuu,” he whines, which, okay, not fair.
Noya turns and crawls up the bed, hair warm from his just finishing up blow-drying it. He only just fights the urge not to lay down and shove his face right in front of Asahi’s, but only because he’d get pomade all over his pillow. He settles on sitting upright and peers down at the hair spilling out from the edge of Asahi’s pillow.
Asahi eyes Noya wearily from beneath the mass of waves. “Jet lag not too bad today?”
“Nope!” Noya pipes. “Check in again around noon, if I haven't passed out by then.”
Asahi huffs a laugh into the mattress. He drops the pillow.
“No no no,” Noya chatizes, and he slides a quick hand under the pillow and grabs purchase on one of Asahi’s cheeks.
The pillow squawks and flails.
“ You are the one that agreed to an early breakfast,” Noya points out, stern. From Asahi’s responding whine, maybe his tone did not quite land as no-nonsense as he meant for it to be. He fishes for Asahi’s nose and manages to grab hold.
”Alright!” Asahi yelps, quickly sitting up and following Noya’s arm to ease up on the nose-pulling. They end up face-to-face, Asahi leaning in closer to keep his balance. They stare at each other.
Noya releases Asahi’s nose.
Asahi finally gives him his first kiss of the day.
”Good morning,” Asahi whispers.
”Good morning,” Noya whispers back. “Ready to face the day?”
Asahi yawns, big, and he leans back to stretch his long arms towards the ceiling in a languid, warm type of way. Noya can’t stop himself from staring (and hey, why should he? He’s allowed to do that now. Boyfriends! Ha!)
“Can I brush my teeth first?”
“I’ll even let you have your coffee and everything.”
Asahi huffs a laugh. He stares at Noya, but says nothing.
Noya wiggles under his gaze. Finally, he goes cross-eyed to stare at his nose. “What? Is there something on my face?” He snaps his eyes up to meet Asahi’s again and wiggles his eyebrows. “Or do you see something you like?”
Asahi fully laughs in his face, and if the pickup line had been any better, Noya might have been offended. Asahi kisses him again, though, so he definitely isn’t.
Asahi smiles at him. “Always.”
.
They make it to breakfast on time but only just barely. In Noya’s defense, the detour to have an early morning makeout against the kitchen counter was not something he initiated. And he’s only human.
Amaya and Aoi each have an overnight bag tucked at their feet and a cup of coffee in hand when Asahi and Noya find them inside the little cafe.
“Good morning, boys!” Asahi’s mother scoops up Asahi in a hug that makes him seem like he isn’t a full foot taller than her. And, to Noya’s surprise, she turns around and hugs him, too. Quick, tight, and like she means it. Noya’s flustered before he can even sit down.
“How was the rest of your night?” Asahi asks the two of them.
“Oh, fine, of course,” Amaya says. “The bath in our hotel room was very fancy.”
“Oh?”
Breakfast is quick and warm. It's over before Noya feels like he has a good grasp on if Amaya thinks any good of him. Which, surely she doesn't hug just everyone, right? He's probably doing fine. Right? Right. He’s a star. He’s a catch. A hot, hot sonofagun, the Ryuu voice in his head catterwalls.
And then they're gone. Causal enough to make Noya’s insides squirm in a happy, nervous sort of way. Something about the way Amaya had said, “and we'll see you again soon, okay?” and Asahi had wrapped his arm around Noya’s shoulders and said “We’ll see you!” like it was only natural that Noya would be there for a next time, too. And maybe it is.
.
“Are you sure you’re cool with me staying for a few days?” Noya’s been watching his laptop consider connecting to Asahi’s wifi for maybe forty-five seconds and he already wants to go run a lap or something. “I’m sure you’ve got a lot going on.”
“Not really,” Asahi admits. “I don’t start work for another two weeks and classes have ended. Please stay. I’d like that.” He thinks for a moment. “Actually, can I bother you for a minute? I know you wanted to get some work done this afternoon, but - ”
“I live moment-to-moment between when I can have your attention and not, Asahi, I’m begging you to bother me, have I not made that clear? I can put some more backbone into it, you know, if I’m not getting my point across - ”
“No, no,” Asahi laughs. “I just wanted to - I have something to give you.”
Asahi disappears into his bedroom.
Noya abandons his laptop and gets up to follow.
There’s some rattling on the other side of the doorway, and then Asahi appears again with a small cream box in his hands. It’s got a bright orange ribbon wrapped around it. “It seems kind of silly, now, I don’t know why I thought I needed to wrap it, I don’t know - ”
Noya makes grabby hands in Asahi’s direction. “Nuh uh, no backing out now. You can’t talk yourself out of giving it to me right in front of me , Asahi, c’mon.”
Asahi relinquishes the box.
The ribbon is shiny and soft but Noya’s patience has never been a virtue of his; he yanks the ribbon off and flings the lid open.
Inside, nestled in a soft bed of black fabric, is a shiny gold key. There’s a tag attached to it. Noya lifts it up.
The tag spells out Asahi’s full name in Asahi’s neat, blocky handwriting, and there's a little doodle of a house right next to it.
Noya has to catch his breath. “Is this - are you giving me a key to your house?”
“I meant it when I said you’re welcome whenever you want to be here. I want you here when you want to be here.” Asahi’s face is turning redder by the second. “Is that weird?”
Noya shakes his head, and he’s laughing , he’s so happy, what the fuck . “No, it isn’t weird, Asahi, oh my god ,” he says. He can’t stop smiling. He grips the key so tightly in his palm that it hurts. “Are you sure?”
“Yes,” Asahi says quietly. “I would never ask you to stop traveling. But I want you to feel confident you can always be here, whenever you want to be.”
“Wow, uh,” Noya clears his throat. His face is on fire . “Thanks, thank you, uh - “ His face hurts from smiling. “Thank you, Asahi.”
He fishes his keys out of his pocket - force of habit, really, having his keys on him all the time - and carefully slides the new ring right next to the key to his grandfather’s house.
“Uh, anyway, that’s all, sorry - ”
“Oh, stop it,” Noya says, reaching over to smack Asahi’s arm. He grabs onto Asahi’s shirt collar and pulls him in for a kiss that is definitely longer than someone who wants to get back to work would go for. He pulls back and murmurs, “What are you apologizing for?”
Before Asahi can answer, Noya’s computer loudly chimes behind them. They both jump.
Noya glances behind him. “Oh! The internet must have finally connected.”
“I’ll let you work, then,” Asahi says, fully pulling away.
Noya lets out a long-suffering sigh. “If I have to.” He pauses. “Asahi.”
Asahi turns back to him. “Yes?”
”I mean it,” Noya says, quietly. “Thank you.”
Asahi smiles, warm, beautiful, home . “Of course.”
.
It’s starting to get dark by the time Noya finishes up sending out his last photographs of Chile to his usual sources. He knows he has to sit down and make a financial plan here soon - he won’t be able to afford a ticket home from wherever he goes next if nothing gets picked up. He can always get a job in Sendai for awhile, maybe — maybe even get the chance to work at a studio, if he’s lucky, but he doesn’t know any photographers in this area to get an in like that, or anyone that knows him that needs photographs taken. And he really isn’t fond of the idea of having to pick up an odd job in Japan instead of somewhere else in the world; maybe he could try looking for somewhere less expensive next?
Asahi offers to make dinner, insists twice and waves off any help before Noya gives in to his generosity.
The sun fully sets. Outside, the muffled chatter of the restaurant patrons next door rises up and dances past the windows. The streetlights hum.
Something small and mean pokes at his guts, twists up inside him and coils at the base of his throat. Noya experiences most of his emotions loudly, but his nerves are silent. Ugly. He swallows around the feeling that he’s been avoiding bringing last night back up again, but if anything has ever been true, it’s that Nishinoya Yuu would do anything to never hurt Azumane Asahi if he can help it. Even if it will make both of them a little uncomfortable.
Noya closes his laptop.
“Asahi,” he says.
Asahi whips around. “What? Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”
Noya, startled, jerks back, then laughs a little. “No no no, sorry, everything’s fine. I just - we said we’d have our talk today.”
Asahi visibly deflates. “Sorry, your serious voice scared me .” He puts his hand on his chest as if to calm his rapidly-beating heart and takes a deep breath. “Uhm,” he says quietly and mulls it over. “Sure. Do you mind if we talk while I finish cooking?”
”Sure,” Noya says, easily.
“Will you come over here? Please?”
Noya finds a spot for himself out of the way, perched on the kitchen counter across from the stove. It is achingly familiar to the first time he visited Asahi here.
“Okay,” Noya says.
“Okay,” Asahi says.
“I really am sorry about last night,” Noya starts. “I wasn’t thinking about you or where we are at all . I’m not - I don’t know. I’m sorry for pushing you.”
Asahi turns away from the stove. “Can I - I’m not going to tell you to not have an emotional reaction to something, Yuu, but you are being way too hard on yourself right now.”
Noya blinks at him. “What?”
Asahi sighs and fully comes to stand in front of Noya. He puts an affectionate hand on the side of Noya’s face, brushes his thumb a little on his cheekbone. “ Yuu ,” he says in a tone that zeroes-in on everything inside of Noya. Asahi has always seen the parts of Noya that he’s tried to hide; that’s how they managed to get here in the first place. “You asked for my consent and then listened to me. That’s the opposite of being pushy. Okay, we should talk, you’re right! But I’m an adult, you’re an adult, you don’t have to worry about it as long as you listen if I say no. And I’ve never once been worried that you’re the type of guy who wouldn’t.”
”Of course not!” Noya blurts, desperate, and Asahi hushes him by squishing his cheek affectionately.
“Exactly ,” Asahi says. “So please stop beating yourself up. You don’t have to protect me from anything we’re doing, okay? I’m willingly here.” He sighs. “If anything, I was surprised by my own reaction last night. I was anxious, but not because it was you . I’ve thought about it a lot, and I’m nervous because it’s new. Is that - ” He scrubs a hand on his face and turns back to the stove. Noya frowns at the tight line of Asahi’s shoulders. “I know you said it last night, but - is that okay? Is taking it slow — is that okay for you? And what you want?”
“Asahi, of course it’s okay. I spend most of my time halfway across the globe, do you think I had some sort of schedule in mind? There are plenty of things I haven’t done either, Asahi, like, so many . But we can just, yaknow. Figure it out. Whenever we want to.” He thinks. “But I need to know if asking if you want to try is off the table until you say otherwise. Because, to be clear, that would be okay.”
Asahi thinks, and then he turns the pot on the stove to low and turns back to face Noya again. “I trust you completely, you know?” Asahi says. “And yesterday I was just surprised , even though I’m not really sure why. But I think I will always be too scared to initiate, you know. At least right now.” He plays with the hem of his sweater. “Are you willing to keep asking?”
Noya blows a raspberry at him. “Absolutely!”
Asahi smiles at him, small, shy. “Then I think - if we’re there, and you’re thinking about wanting to, there’s a good chance I’m thinking about wanting to, and, well. I just don’t think I’ll be able to say it out loud, the first time. It’s - embarrassing.”
“What, handjob?” Noya says, stone-faced. Asahi’s cheeks go scarlet. “Blowjob? May I pretty please put your incredible dick in my mouth?”
Asahi squeaks. “You’ve never even seen my dick!”
Noya shrugs. “I’ve just got a feeling.”
Asahi hides his face behind his hands. He mumbles something unintelligible.
“What was that? Asahi, babe, we’re having an important boundaries discussion here, you’ve gotta-”
“I said ,” Asahi forces out, “ yes , all of those things, yes to all of them. Please.”
Noya’s eyebrows hit their peak on his forehead. Something warm rolls around in his stomach. “Yeah?”
“ Yeah ,” Asahi says, absolutely scorching red. Noya loves him.
Oh.
Noya bites his bottom lip. Grins at his boyfriend with all he’s worth. “Okay.”
Asahi’s shoulders droop. “Can we eat dinner now? Are we okay?”
Noya hops off the counter. “‘Course. Did you see they’re making a live-action of Erased coming out in December? Have you seen the anime?”
He loves Asahi.
Maybe Noya always has, maybe not. It all feels like too much and not enough for someone as kind and beautiful and lovely as Asahi. But. It’s real, nonetheless.
Nothing’s ever been easier, really.
.
TO : [email protected]
FROM : [email protected]
SUBJECT : Summer Shoot Inquiry
Hey Nishinoya,
Hope you’ve been well, man. I was surprised not to see you out in the pro leagues giving Yaku a run for his money on best up-and-coming libero, but Kenma says you’re up to different things now-a-days. And who am I to talk? Hope you’re finding the good stuff.
Let’s talk business: I am in a pinch to find a photographer for the Japanese Volleyball Association’s summer promotional spread. We need to publish in August and our usual guy has parted ways and left us in a bind. And before you ask: it’s not that there aren’t plenty of photographers out there, but I need a photographer that understands volleyball . The heart of the game. And can also make the guys look good, yaknow? We need to sell some magazines and get some new folks in the stands.
Kenma sent over the shots you took of the shorty a few months ago, and I gotta say, man, I’m pretty impressed. I think you’d be great for this gig.
If you’re interested, I attached some info to this email about requirements and budget. Send me a portfolio and pricing, and I’ll bring them to our promo department and put your name in their ear. And hopefully, if you want it, book you a job.
Let me know.
.
Noya is already back from his morning run (he used his key! His key! ) and is checking his email by the time Asahi stumbles into the living room the next morning. Asahi beelines for Noya, who dutifully pauses to receive his morning kiss.
“Good morning,” Asahi murmurs.
“Good morning!” Noya pipes. “Sleep okay?”
“Always, when you’re here,” Sleepy Asahi says, like it’s not an earth-shatteringly sweet thing to say to somebody. He wanders off to get his coffee and leaves Noya to his work.
Asahi returns, steaming cup in hand. “What have you been up to this morning?”
“Went on a run. Oh! I was reading about the Krakatoa Festival in Indonesia. It starts the first week of August this year.”
“You think you might try to be there for it?”
Noya hums. “Maybe. I was thinking maybe I’d stick to Asia for a little bit again to save some money and do a longer trip - then maybe north? Europe?”
Asahi hums at him. “What about Italy? The fashion world is very intense there.”
“You want me to go scout it out for you?”
Asahi laughs. “Maybe learn some Italian, too, then I can book you as a translator if I ever get to go.”
“Oh, deal ,” Noya laughs.
Asahi takes a deep drink of his coffee. Noya watches him for a moment, then, resigned, returns to finishing his email-reading.
“Oh, holy fuck. Holy fuck . Asahi, read this, read this . Wait, hold on, let me actually finish reading it, oh what the hell -”
Finally, Asahi, startled, takes the laptop. “Kuroo? He was the Nekoma captain my third year, right?”
“Fuck yeah he was, don’t you remember him? Tall, kind of lanky if you’re into that sort of thing? Mega asshole but likable anyway? Read it .”
Asahi reads.
“Wait, what?” Asahi seemingly skims the email a second time. “Yuu! This is amazing!”
“Right? I think I’ll submit a portfolio - what’s the harm, right?”
“Harm? This is incredible! I’m so proud of you - you’re incredible!”
Noya’s blush is fast and fierce. “Uhm, thanks, thank you. Would you mind reviewing what I pick, if you’ve got time today?”
“Of course ,” Asahi gushes. He swings around the table, coffee forgotten, and sweeps Noya up in his arms and his enthusiasm. He kisses him once, twice, three times for good measure. “What’s the timeline?”
“Their paperwork says the pages have to be completed by the end of August, so I imagine I’d need to be finished mid July?”
Asahi’s eyebrows lower. “That’s only, what? Three weeks? That seems fast.”
“Good thing I don’t have to catch a plane back from Brazil then, huh? Oh. I mean, I need to get officially booked first but - I’d need to be in Tokyo for longer than the few days I originally planned. I know you said I could be here whenever, but a few weeks is a long time, Asahi.”
Asahi grins at him. “That's no problem.”
Noya frowns. “Asahi, please think about it seriously. I’d basically be living with you - I can always go stay with Gramps until the shoot starts.”
Asahi, for his part, does take a moment to think. “I think,” he says slowly, “that I’d like to take this chance to see you as much as I can, if you'll let me be that selfish. Please?”
“Oh, twist my arm, why don't you,” Noya grumbles, and he melts back into Asahi’s arms.
Noya takes a deep breath. Asahi smells like sleep and his laundry detergent . He squeezes once and pulls back. “You will tell me if you need space?”
“Yes,” Asahi assures.
“Okay,” Noya breathes. “Okay. Then I’ll get to work.”