Chapter Text
Daichi was getting restless. It had officially been a full 3 months since he’d transferred to Tokyo on orders of the police chief, and while it was meant to have been a promotion, the officer honestly felt that his life back home had been terribly uprooted.
The country, though simple and slow at times, held a comfort and peace that Daichi didn’t think he could find anywhere else. For example, he loved his work at the local station, cruising the coastal city where the most crime you’d find was a shoplifting kid or two. He loved seeing his friends every weekend, the same boys he had known since elementary school. Above all, he loved that his family home was only a short walk from his apartment.
Sure, it was all bittersweet at first, but Daichi had always been an optimist, and as the day of the big move got closer and closer, he started to think about the many pros of leaving Miyagi. He thought about the bustle of Tokyo and the many new places, people, and experiences awaiting him. He thought about his work as a police officer and the challenges the city would pose for him.
And past the guilty conscience, he even thought about his now ex-girlfriend, whom he’d broken up with only recently due to his relocation. Michimiya was a sweet girl, a very sweet, straightforward, nice girl who had loved him with all her heart. She had asked him out right after they graduated high school, and if Daichi wasn’t such a nice boy himself, maybe he would have rejected her. It might have saved him the wasted time and effort of a 3-year-long relationship.
The truth was that he never anticipated leaving Miyagi. And if he had rejected Yui all those years ago, it might have cost him a good portion of his companions (and even a future wife if her friends had decided to blacklist him). Well, there was no going back now, even if he wanted to. She cried so much when he brought it up because, really, did all those days mean nothing to him? Practically everyone in town expected them to get married, so it made sense that no one threw Daichi a farewell party when he set off for the city.
Since he really didn’t know anyone in the city, the alpha had been crashing at the apartment of his new chief’s son. Within the first day itself, it was made abundantly clear that he was not welcome. Firstly, the boy was a college student who frequently invited guests over, didn’t clean up after himself, and bustled around at odd hours of the night. He was also in a band, lead guitar, actually, which meant that the blaring sounds of amplified strings filled their shared space whenever the other felt like it. The worst part was the lady friends who yelled and screamed and moaned with each bang of the headboard as if trying to start a band of their own. He’d find the confused ladies wandering around the flat in the morning, seeing as his roommate had left them without so much as a “good morning”.
After the many sleepless nights and god fucking awful mornings, Daichi knew he had to get his own place and fast. The problem was his lack of funds and also the incredible number of odd people looking for roommates in Tokyo. He had visited four potential spots, each further discouraging him from the prospect of ever finding a suitable place to live.
The first place was in a totally sketchy area, although it felt like he and the current tenant really clicked over text. The second belonged to an older couple who just seemed to be coping with the loss of their only son. The third was a younger couple whose first and only question was his opinion on threesomes. And the fourth place was honestly just way over Daichi’s budget.
He made his way to the fifth and final location with little to no hope. The apartment had looked spacious in the ad listing, almost too spacious for the price tag attached to it. That alone had made Daichi suspicious. In his experience, cheap rent almost always alluded to bad plumbing, roach infestations, or shitty landlords.
Whatever it may have been, the complex itself was in a prime location, tucked into a nice neighborhood with eateries lining the street, a bus stop just around the corner, and the train station only a short walk away. So with all the optimism he could still scrape together, he decided he'd go check it out before his night shift.
Daichi took the elevator up to the fourth floor, the fluorescent lights humming overhead as the numbers ticked upward. When he reached the door, he knocked twice, the sound dull against the wood. Almost too quickly, he could hear the frantic patter of footsteps, followed by the metallic click of a lock and the rattle of a chain being slid free as if whoever lived here was waiting eagerly for him.
The door swung open.
"You must be Sawamura-san!" The man on the other side beamed, stepping back to make room. "Come on in."
It took him a moment to process it, but eventually Daichi remembered who he was and why he was here. He supposed he couldn’t blame himself for dissociating as he had, especially not when the stranger standing before him was, simply put, the most beautiful person Daichi had ever seen. They were roughly the same height, but where the cop was broad and solid, this man was leaner, softer in his proportions. His hair was short and silvery, catching the hallway light like moonbeams, and his eyes were a warm, gentle brown. A tiny beauty mark sat just beneath his left eye, subtle but impossible to ignore once noticed, as if it added a sensuality to his otherwise charming exterior. And then there was the faint sweetness in the air around him, delicate and clean. The unmistakable scent of an omega.
"Nice to meet you," Daichi pulled himself together, assuming that this gorgeous man was the one he had been communicating with. "Sugawara-san?"
The omega giggled an airy, musical sound. "Yes, but everyone just calls me Suga." His laugh and name were just about as sweet as he was.
"Suga," Daichi repeated, testing the name on his tongue. Then, before he could stop himself, "Like sugar?"
Thankfully, not completely put off by his lame humor, Suga turned back to glance at him over his shoulder, a small smile playing at his lips. It was the kind of smile that could make a person forget what they were about to say. Daichi was already forgetting a lot of things, fumbling over his words like a virgin, and they’d only known each other for two minutes.
He followed Suga into the living room, and the first thing he noticed was how much bigger it looked in person. The photos online hadn't done it justice. The space was open and uncluttered, with a kitchen connected along one wall and a flat-screen TV mounted across from a comfortable-looking couch. It was clearly lived-in–books stacked on the coffee table, a pair of sneakers kicked off near the entrance–but not messy. It felt warm and inviting, like its tennants actually enjoyed being here.
On the couch, a dark-haired man looked up from his laptop. He was wearing glasses and a pair of oversized headphones, but at the sight of Daichi, he set aside his lap desk, removed both, and rose to his feet to greet him.
"Sawamura-san," he said, extending a hand. His voice was silky smooth like expensive whiskey. "I'm Akaashi."
Another omega, but this one had a cooler, sharper beauty. He was taller than Daichi himself, with dark hair and deep blue eyes, features that he’d only ever seen on magazine covers or fragrance ads for colognes far out of his price range. An Orchid to Suga’s Camellia, if they were flowers like the ones in his grandmother’s garden. Elegant in an almost untouchable way. Daichi shook his hand and tried not to stare. Even so, he couldn't help the quiet thought that slipped through his mind: Beautiful, but not like the way Suga was. Not even close.
"Sorry," Akaashi said, already stepping back toward the couch. "But I've got a paper due in an hour. Hopefully, we can talk more later."
He settled back into his spot, headphones on, glasses perched, and within seconds, he was absorbed in his work again, as if Daichi had never entered the room.
Suga took him down the hallway to show him the rest of the space.
"Akaashi's the youngest out of all of us," he explained as they walked. "He's finishing his final semester of university. Moved in a little over a year ago, after his study abroad ended."
"I see." Daichi nodded, but his mind had caught on to something else. All of us. That implied more than just the two of them. He hadn't seen any mention of multiple roommates in the listing, just a single room for rent. He wondered how many others there might be. And if they were all omegas as stunning as the two he'd already met, he was starting to wonder if the place was too good to be true.
"We have three bathrooms total," Suga continued, unaware of the alpha’s spiraling thoughts. "Keiji and I share one. And you'd be sharing one with Bokuto, if you decide to sign the lease." He paused, glancing at Daichi. "He should be on his way back from practice now, actually. You'll probably get to meet him before you leave."
"Practice?" Daichi echoed.
"Yes. He plays professional volleyball. For MSBY."
Daichi stopped walking. His eyes went wide. "THAT Bokuto Koutarou? The one with," he gestured vaguely at his own head, "the hair? The ace? He lives here?"
Suga laughed, soft and amused. "I'm sure he'll be very happy to hear you're a fan."
"But he's a celebrity," Daichi said, still processing. "I mean, he's on television, he’s got brand deals. What's a guy like that doing in a shared apartment?"
Suga was quiet for a moment, his expression turning thoughtful. "Well," he said slowly, "I think it's just more convenient for him. It's close to his gym, it's spacious,” he listed. “Besides, he was one of the first to move in, and he's been here about four years now." He shrugged. "He’s probably attached to the place, but that's just my speculation. I'm sure he has his own reasons."
Daichi nodded, letting it settle. They continued down the hall, past a small communal room that held a desk for conference calls, a yoga mat unrolled on the floor, and a set of dumbbells tucked into the corner. A hybrid space for working and working out.
Suga paused in front of a door. "This is mine," he said, then pointed to the one across from it. "And this would be yours, if you take it,” he added once again at the end, as if he felt that he was coming across too pushy.
He held the door open, and Daichi stepped inside.
The room was larger than his current one, significantly so. And there was a skylight set into the ceiling, a rectangle of glass that let in a cascade of warm afternoon light, painting golden rectangles across the walls and floor. Despite the lack of windows, it made the room feel anything but suffocating. If he hadn't already been sold by the gorgeous roommate standing beside him, he was sold now.
"I didn't know if you'd brought your own sheets," he said, gesturing toward the bed. "So I just put out the ones Iwaizumi left behind. Ah don't worry, I washed them." Suga tilted his head then, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "Is...something the matter?"
Daichi hadn’t realized he was smiling. A dopey grin that he probably should have been embarrassed about, but he couldn't quite help it. "Sorry. It's just, I've met so many strange people since I moved here.” He rubbed the back of his neck. "It's nice, you know? To finally talk to someone who isn't a complete nutjob."
Suga laughed at that, warm and genuine. "We're each quirky in our own ways," he said. "I'm sure you'll discover that soon enough."
It was then that Daichi glanced down the hall, noticing a fourth door at the end, slightly ajar, with the faint outline of a room beyond. "Is there another roommate?"
"Oh, yes, I forgot! That's Kuroo's room. He works a standard 9-to-5, so I’m afraid he won't be back for another hour or so."
A college student, a professional athlete, a salaryman, and...Daichi realized he still hadn't asked what Suga did for work.
"I really hope you'll consider me," Daichi said, turning to face Suga fully. "I love the place. And if it helps, I work full-time as an officer at the station. Police."
The omega’s eyes brightened. "I guess we're both government employees, then." He smiled again, "I'm a teacher at the elementary school around the corner."
It suited him, Daichi thought. He had that warmth, that patience, that easy way of putting people at ease, that must have come from dealing with one too many unruly kids.
Suga hesitated, chewing on his lower lip as if weighing his next words. "To tell you the truth, Sawamura-san," he said quietly, "we're in desperate need of a fifth. The living costs have been getting harder to manage with just the four of us. When's the earliest you could move in?"
The question landed like music. Relief bloomed in his chest, budding excitement, the knowledge that this nightmare of a housing search was finally, finally over. Daichi was already picturing it: walking back to his current apartment, flipping off his insufferable roommate, and leaving with the boxes he'd never fully unpacked.
"How about tonight?"
He loved the way Suga's face lit up at his words. "Really? Oh my god, the guys are going to be so happy!"
From somewhere beyond the hallway, the front door banged open. A booming voice echoed through the apartment, full of energy and life.
“Perfect timing, it looks like Bokuto-san’s back,” Suga said, leading Daichi back to the living room.
Sure enough, in the doorway stood Number 12, Wing Spiker Bokuto Koutarou in the flesh.
He filled the frame like he was born to occupy space, broad-shouldered and tall, still wearing his black MSBY zip-up hoodie and matching sweats. His two-toned hair was dark with sweat, strands sticking to his forehead in messy clumps, and a worn duffel bag hung heavy from one shoulder. It answered Daichi’s earnest question on whether or not his hair naturally grew spiked up like that or if he merely styled it that way. He looked every bit the athlete Daichi had seen on television, with powerful biceps and thighs that could put a marble statue to shame.
"Hey hey hey," Bokuto said, his voice bouncing off the walls. His golden eyes landed on Daichi, curiosity flickering across his features. "Who's this?"
Suga stepped forward, his smile easy and bright. "Bokuto-san, this is Sawamura-san. He just moved to the area, and as of today, he's our newest roommate!"
The other alpha's face split into his signature wide grin. "Sweet!" he yelled, and before Daichi could brace himself, Bokuto had crossed the room and thrown his arms around him in a bear hug that squeezed the air from his lungs. He smelled like sweat and mint and something warm underneath, a fellow alpha's scent.
"Where'd you move from?" Bokuto asked, finally releasing him.
Daichi took a breath. "Miyagi area."
"Damn!" his eyes grew wider if that was even possible. "Real country boy, huh? You're a long way from home."
"Yeah," the cop admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's my first time in the city, actually."
Bokuto laughed, a sound that felt larger than life itself. "Don't you worry about that. We'll get you all adjusted in no time! I'll show you all the best spots, the good ramen places, the-"
"Bokuto-san." A flat voice cut through from the couch. "Can you keep it down, please?"
Akaashi hadn't even looked up from his laptop. His fingers were still flying across the keyboard, sharp typing sounds cutting through the athlete’s excitement. His tone carried a sharp edge that made the request feel more like a command.
Bokuto's enthusiasm dimmed, just a fraction. "Sorry, sorry," he muttered, though the half-grin on his face suggested he wasn't entirely sorry at all. He patted Daichi on the back, a little too hard, and ambled over to the kitchen. But then he stopped and groaned, loud enough that everyone in the room, besides Akaashi of course, turned to look.
"I literally cleaned the entire sink before practice this morning," Bokuto said, his voice climbing in disbelief. He reached into the basin and pulled out a collection of coffee mugs and dishes, holding them up like evidence in a courtroom. His gaze swiveled toward the couch. "Is it that hard to load your own damn dishes, Akaashi?"
For a moment, Akaashi didn't respond. His fingers froze over the keyboard, and silence filled the room. Then he looked up, slowly, and Daichi caught the flash of something cold in those deep blue eyes.
"I'm not taking any crap from you about dishes, Bokuto-san." Akaashi kept his voice sweet, even if he didn’t really have anything nice to say. "You seem to be forgetting last weekend. When your teammates came over after the bar. And left all their shit on the couch." He paused, letting the words land. "Who cleaned that up when you were too hungover to wake up?"
Daichi could feel the tension coiling in the air like a wire pulled too tight. He glanced at Suga, who was watching the exchange with a carefully neutral expression, though his posture had gone still.
Bokuto said nothing. He stood there, dishes still in his hands, jaw working like he was chewing on his next words. And Akaashi only took his silence as permission to continue. "You really did forget, huh?" He laughed, but there was no humor in it. "I swear to god, you have the IQ of a fucking used tissue."
The insult hung in the air, as if Akaashi knew exactly what to say to piss Bokuto off. Daichi felt his own shoulders tense. He'd seen plenty of arguments in his line of work, but this one felt different. There was a tension that suggested some personal dispute, history, resentment even.
Finally, Bokuto’s easy grin was gone, replaced by something harder. "Do you ever get tired of being a prickly bitch all the time? Or do you actually get off on killing everyone's fucking vibe?”
The word landed like a slap. Daichi saw Akaashi tense, just barely, just for a second, before his face went completely blank. They stared each other down, the uncomfortable atmosphere souring the sweetness Suga had brought to the space prior. Daichi held his breath without meaning to, not wanting it to shake his initial happiness.
Then the young omega shook his head, a sharp, dismissive motion, and grabbed his laptop. He rose from the couch in one fluid movement and stormed toward the door, his footsteps quick and angry against the floor.
"That's right," Bokuto called after him, his voice dripping with false bravado. "Go throw your little tantrum. We all know that's what you do best."
The door slammed shut, Akaashi storming out but not without shouting a quick “fuck you” back at the alpha. The sound echoed through the apartment, rattling the frames on the wall.
When the spat was over, Daichi stood frozen, unsure of where to look. Suga was staring at the floor, his lips pressed into a thin line. And Bokuto was still leaning against the kitchen counter, but his shoulders had dropped, and his face had crumpled in a way that made him look like he’d been in a state of anguish the entire time.
"Fuck," he muttered, letting the dishes clatter back into the sink. He put his face in his palms, his voice muffled. "Why did I have to say all that?" He looked like he was about to cry.
Daichi glanced once more at Suga, uncertain, but the omega's expression was anything but surprised.
Bokuto groaned again, a sound full of self-loathing. He grabbed his duffel bag from where he'd dropped it and slung it back over his shoulder, his head hanging low as he shuffled toward the hallway.
"Guys," he said, not looking back, "don't talk to me for the rest of the day."
His bedroom door clicked shut, and the apartment seemed to exhale. Suga too, let out a long, slow breath before he turned to Daichi, with something like an apology in his eyes. "I'm so sorry you had to see all that." He pressed his lips together, as if searching for the right words. "I…really hope it didn't change your mind about the place."
Daichi’s heart thudded against his chest, with the omega looking at him with such pleading eyes, all wide, warm, and hopeful.
"Of course not," he found himself saying before he could truly reason with his conscience. He managed a chuckle. "As long as it's not an everyday thing, a few spats here and there is nothing. I just hope the two of them are alright."
Suga's pretty smile returned, slow and genuine, and Daichi felt like he was looking at the first return of the sun after a long winter. "Don't worry," the omega said softly. "They always manage to resolve things on their own. Give them a day, maybe two, and they'll be back to normal."
He jolted for a moment, recalling something before shuffling further into the kitchen. "Can I get you anything to drink, Sawamura-san? Tea? Water?" It might have even been a ploy to sway the conversation elsewhere, but the alpha didn’t feel like having his guard up to call him on it.
As much as Daichi wanted to stay, a glance at his watch told him his shift was approaching fast. "Unfortunately," he said, regret creeping into his voice, "I've got to get back to the station." He offered Suga a small smile. "Thanks for showing me around. I really appreciate it."
Maybe he was imagining things, but as Suga smiled back, Daichi could have sworn he saw a faint blush creep across the omega's cheeks. "What time will you be bringing your things?" he asked, his voice lighter now. "I'd be happy to help you settle in."
Daichi shook his head, trying to play it cool despite the fact that his resting heart rate had spiked significantly since his arrival. "Ah, don't worry about that. It'll likely be after midnight, so there’s no need for you to stay up."
The omega giggled. "Don't be afraid to wake me if you need anything," Suga said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Really. I mean it."
Daichi nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Because if he did, he might say something embarrassing. It was crazy how fast his heart was racing from every laugh, every giggle that Suga sent his way. He’d never really felt like this before, and so he didn’t know if it was even normal to be interested this quickly.
He stepped into the hallway, the elevator doors sliding shut behind him, and leaned against the cool metal wall. For the first time since he arrived in Tokyo, he thought about Yui.
It wasn't a guilty thought, exactly, more like a comparison he couldn't help but make. Because this, whatever this thing was with Suga, it wasn't ever like this with her. Not even close.
With Yui, it had taken him quite some time to feel anything at all. He'd liked her well enough, of course. She was a picture-perfect girl, kind and pretty, and everyone told him they made a good pair. Naturally, he'd gone along with it, convinced that attraction would grow, that feelings would develop naturally if he just gave it time.
But looking back now, Daichi could admit the truth to himself: his feelings for Michimiya, if he could even call them that, had always felt more like an obligation. He played many roles while they were together, the boyfriend who called when he was supposed to, who remembered birthdays, valentines, and anniversaries, and bought flowers on schedule. He'd gone through the motions so well that even he'd convinced himself it was real. The initial excitement had probably come from the fact that he now had a girlfriend, not from anything particular about the girl herself. It was mean to say, but it was also the truth.
By the time he reached the station and changed into his uniform, he'd almost convinced himself to stop thinking about Suga. Tanaka and Nishinoya were already there, slumped in their chairs with the particular exhaustion that only the night shift could bring. Tanaka was a rough but earnest man, born and raised in the city, with a face that looked like it belonged in a jail cell itself. Noya was smaller but scrappy, always buzzing with energy no matter the hour.
Daichi had only met them a few months ago, but with the amount of time they spent together it already felt like he'd known them for years. And of all the people he'd met since moving to the city, these two were among the most tolerable. High praise, coming from him.
He slid into his seat, and almost immediately, Tanaka's eyes narrowed at him from across the table. "You seem to be in an awfully good mood," he said, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn. "For someone who's gotta work the night shift."
"He’s practically glowing," Nishinoya chimed in, leaning forward with a grin. "Oooh, could it be that Daichi-san's found a city huzz to make his worries go away?"
The word huzz alone made Daichi’s ears go red. Noya was always finding lingo that the lot of them were definitely too old to be using. Tanaka snorted, clearly amused, while Nishinoya wiggled his eyebrows like he'd just cracked the case of the century.
"I'm serious," Nishinoya pressed, undeterred by Daichi's silence. "You've got that look. You know, the one guys get when they've met someone interesting."
“Suppose you meet someone interesting every day, then, Noya,” Tanaka mumbled from beside him, to which the shorter man growled.
Daichi rolled his eyes, "Screw off, you guys. I'm just relieved that I finally found a place to stay."
"Uh-huh," Tanaka drawled, clearly not buying it. "And the fact that you strutted in here like you were walking on sunshine has nothing to do with it?"
Daichi opened his mouth to argue, but Tanaka cut him off with a knowing look.
"Come on, Daichi," he teased, "We've been partners long enough. You think we can't tell when something's got you all twisted up?" He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. "So who is it? And more importantly," he paused, letting the suspense build, "is this one hotter than the last?"
Nishinoya let out a cackle. "Yeah, Daichi-san! We've heard all about your Michimiya-san. The sweet, patient girl who you totally didn't deserve." He leaned in, eyes gleaming. "So how does the new one compare? Is she…or he…an upgrade? A downgrade? Give us the details!"
Daichi's face went through several shades of red before he managed to speak. "You two are impossible." It had taken a full month of their pestering before he even muttered a single word about Yui to the two of them, a whole two months for him to show them a picture.
"Impossible and curious," Tanaka corrected, grinning. "There's a difference."
"There really isn't," Daichi mumbled, but his mind had already wandered back to Suga. Silver hair, his warm brown eyes, the way his whole face lit up when he smiled. The comparison was almost laughable. Yui had been pretty in a conventional way, the kind of girl you brought home to meet your parents without a second thought. Suga was the kind of beautiful that made you forget what you were saying mid-sentence. Not that Daichi was about to admit any of that.
"It's not like that," he said, his voice flatter than he intended. "I literally just met the guy today. He's my new roommate. That's it."
Tanaka let out a low whistle, leaning back in his chair, the excitement from before replaced with a caution of sorts. "Yikes," he said. "A roommate romance, huh? That's not for the weak."
Nishinoya winced, shaking his head. "Oh man, Daichi. Of all the people in this city, it had to be your roommate?"
Daichi blinked. "What are you talking about? I just said it's not-"
"Uh-huh, sure," Tanaka cut him off, waving a dismissive hand. "But we've all seen that look before. You're already halfway there, whether you want to admit it or not." He leaned forward, his expression turning serious. "Look, I'm not saying don't go for it. But you gotta be careful. Roommate situations? They get messy. Real messy, real fast."
Nishinoya nodded vigorously. "I had a buddy back in high school who started dating his roommate. They were great for like, two months. Then they had a fight over dirty dishes, and suddenly it was World War Three. Broke up, still had to live together for the rest of the lease." He shuddered.
Tanaka snorted. "You think that’s bad? I knew a guy who had to sleep on his own couch for three months because his ex-roommate-boyfriend refused to move out and refused to let him into the bedroom. The guy ended up breaking his lease early and moving back in with his parents." He shook his head. "He was thirty-two."
Daichi listened, his stomach sinking with each story. He hadn't even let himself consider the practicalities, the very real, very mundane ways this could all go wrong. He'd been so swept up in Suga's smile, in the warmth of the apartment, in the sheer relief of finally finding a place to stay, that he'd completely ignored the obvious.
What if he did make a move? What if Suga didn't feel the same way? The apartment was perfect, the location was perfect, and his new roommate was something Daichi didn't even have the words for. The thought of ruining that, of making things awkward or uncomfortable, of having to find somewhere else to live because he couldn't keep his feelings in check. It was definetly sobering.
Tanaka must have seen the shift in his expression because his voice softened. "I'm not saying don't ever go there, Daichi. I'm just saying...maybe give it some time. Who knows, this new pretty boy of yours might end up turning out to be some crazy psycho who clips his toenails in your bed at three in the morning. Make sure it's worth the risk before you dive in headfirst."
Nishinoya nodded, his usual manic energy dimmed to something more thoughtful. "What Tanaka's trying to say is, you just got here. You finally found a good place. Don't mess that up because your dick’s thinking more than your head."
He hardly felt Suga was the type of person to do that, nor was he even thinking about sex in the present. But still, for once in their entire lives, probably, they were right. A few hours of conversation, a handful of smiles weren't enough to gamble his housing stability on, not when he'd finally, finally found a place that felt like it could be home.
"I get it," Daichi said finally, his voice low.
Tanaka studied him for a moment, then nodded, satisfied. "Good. That's the smart move."
Daichi nodded, but in his mind, he was already building the walls. Keep your distance, be friendly, but nothing more, don't look at him too long, he told himself. Sure, it was going to be harder than he wanted to admit, but he'd done hard things before. He could do this too.
After being teased for the remainder of his patrol, Daichi had never been more ready to move boxes. Tanaka and Nishinoya had taken turns lobbing comments at him between calls until he'd finally threatened to file a complaint for harassment himself. Alas, the empty threats only made them laugh harder.
By the time his shift ended, his cheeks ached from the effort of not smiling. Even after everything they'd said, even after he'd resolved to keep his distance, there was a stubborn part of him that couldn't help feeling lighter at the thought of going to his new home.
His old roommate hadn't been there when he'd stopped by to grab his things, and the alpha had been disappointed, if he was being honest. He'd been looking forward to some grand exit, maybe a finger, or a few choice words about the state of the shared bathroom.
But the apartment had been empty and Daichi had simply packed his boxes and left without fanfare. It was fine; he hardly cared. He could see the light at the end of the tunnel now, and it included a warm bed and a beautiful new roommate who treated him like an actual human being.
The apartment was dark except for the faint blue glow emanating from the living room by the time he’d arrived just past two in the morning. A sports game was playing on the television, the volume turned low enough that he could only make out the murmur of commentators and the occasional squeak of sneakers on hardwood. Strange, Daichi thought, that someone would leave it on this late. All the lights were off, and the apartment was far too quiet for anyone to still be awake.
He set his boxes down by the door, careful not to make too much noise. The last thing he wanted was to wake anyone up on his first night. But the electricity bills were soon going to be split between all of them now, and Daichi had never been the type to waste money on something no one was watching.
He padded silently toward the living room, his socked feet making no sound against the floor.
But perhaps he should have just left the television on and gone straight to his room, unpacked his things, and gone to sleep without a second thought. Perhaps he should have minded his own damn business.
The couch that had seemed so cozy and inviting earlier that day was now occupied by two figures tangled together in the dim light and engaged in some very intimate play. Akaashi-san was sprawled out along the cushions, his legs spread wide in a way that left absolutely nothing to the imagination. It didn't help that the only thing he was wearing was a loose, white wife-beater tank, and even that was a generous description, since it had been pushed all the way up to his collarbones, exposing the entire expanse of his stomach and chest. His head was tipped back, his dark hair spilling across the armrest, and the omega seemed to be crying out into the back of his palm, far too distracted to notice Daichi hovering in the doorway.
His other hand was down below, fingers tangled in a mess of black and silver hair. Bokuto-san's face was pressed up between the younger man's legs, and he was practically making out with his pussy, the obscene sounds of slurping and sucking just loud enough to be heard over the subtle hum of the TV. While Bokuto was thankfully still wearing pants, he was shirtless, his bulging muscles on full display as they flexed with every movement. One hand was snaking up to pinch and pull at Akaashi's nipples, and the other was firm against his thigh, gripping it open so the athlete could continue his work.
Daichi's brain short-circuited. These were the same two people who had been at each other's throats just hours ago. At that time, the cop had stood there, awkward and uncomfortable, watching them tear into each other like they genuinely couldn't stand the sight of one another. Now, he felt awkward and uncomfortable all the same as the pair seemed to want nothing more than to live in each other’s skin.
Suddenly, Bokuto turned his head to the side to mouth at the omega's inner thigh and locked eyes with the spectator.
Daichi flinched. His entire body went rigid when he’d realized how shameless he was being, staring at the two of them like he had nowhere else to be. Heat flooded his face as the mortification crashed over him. Why wasn’t he looking away, or at least backing out of the room and pretending he hadn't seen anything? But even as his conscience reprimanded him, he couldn't move. His legs felt like lead, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth.
Bokuto, on the other hand, barely had a reaction. His golden eyes flickered with something that might have been amusement, or maybe annoyance, and then he simply sighed.
"Crap," he muttered, before grabbing the shirt bunched at Akaashi's neck and pulling it back down over his chest. He peppered kisses over the omega’s navel, his hip bones and then right above his clit. "Hey Keiji, we gotta relocate. Dai-"
The omega, without an ounce of shame, pushed his lover's head back to his cunt as if begging him to keep going. And surprisingly, the alpha obliged despite the obvious watcher in the room. If anything, it only made him more passionate in the frantic way he moved his tongue and slipped one of his impossibly long fingers into Akaashi’s hole. What scared Daichi the most was that he couldn’t tell which one Bokuto had put it in.
Clearly, he’d taken the omega to heaven and back because only a few seconds later, the younger man whined high in his throat and arched his back, toes curling and legs quivering from where they rested on Bokuto's shoulders. His fingers tightened in his hair, pulling hard, and he turned his face into the armrest so Daichi couldn’t see it. Then he slumped back against the couch, panting heavily.
Akaashi’s orgasm seemed to shake everyone in the room, even if Daichi wasn’t actively curled up with them himself. But still, Bokuto did not seem bothered at all that his lover had shown something so sacred to another man. He climbed up the omega’s body, sucking a nipple into his mouth before kissing him on his other lips.
Daichi's face burned so hot he was surprised he didn't catch fire.
"Couldn't have waited 'til he wasn't looking?" Bokuto teased huskily, his voice low and rough when two minutes had gone by, and he finally stopped kissing Akaashi long enough to let him catch his breath. He wrapped an arm around each of the omega’s thighs and lifted the younger man into his arms like he weighed nothing at all. Akaashi, exactly where he wanted to be, wrapped his legs secure around the other's waist, grabbing his face to keep kissing him as they walked toward the hallway. Their mouths never parted, even as Bokuto's broad frame carried them both past Daichi like he was nothing more than furniture.
"Sorry, country boy," Bokuto called out over his shoulder, his tone almost casual, "won't let it happen again."
The door of his room clicked shut, and then Daichi was alone. He stood there, frozen in the middle of the living room, the television still humming quietly in the background. The sports game had long since been forgotten, the commentators babbling on about stats and scores that no one was listening to. He could hear the faint murmur of voices from behind Bokuto's door, intimate, punctuated by a soft moan that sounded suspiciously like it belonged to Akaashi.
Daichi forced himself to move, to blink, or do something other than stand there gaping like a fish. He made his way back to the entryway, his legs feeling strangely heavy, his mind still reeling. His boxes were where he'd left them, waiting patiently for him to unpack.
It was comical, honestly. He'd spent the entire patrol being warned about the dangers of getting involved with a roommate. All those horror stories, and he’d nodded along for each one. Tanaka’s story, his buddy who'd dated his roommate and ended up sleeping on the couch for three months. He thought about Nishinoya's friend who moved back in with his parents. Then he thought about how close everyone in this apartment clearly was, how intertwined their lives seemed to be. Akaashi and Bokuto fought like they hated each other and fucked like they couldn't get enough. What kind of dynamic was that?
Finally, he thought about Suga. Where exactly did he fit into all of it?
The omega's face floated to the front of Daichi's mind, as it had for practically the entire day. He'd seemed so genuine, the way he’d bitten his lip when he asked Daichi to move in. The alpha had convinced himself that there was something special there, something worth holding onto.
Was he even aware that his two fellow roommates were fucking each other under their shared roof? And if he was, could it be a red flag that he hadn’t bothered to disclose this to Daichi before getting him to sign the lease?
The worst part about the situation, though, was that none of it truly deterred Daichi from wanting to stay.
Despite the shock and embarrassment, the acknowledgment that he’d walked into something far more complicated than he'd bargained for, Daichi couldn't bring himself to leave. The room was perfect, the location was unbeatable, and Suga's sweet laugh still lingered in his mind, warm and impossible to shake.
He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes and let out a long, slow breath. His heart was still pounding, his face still hot, his thoughts still a jumbled mess. Maybe I really am an idiot, he thought to himself. But he was hopeful that he'd figure out the dynamics of this place slowly, carefully, without making any assumptions or jumping to any conclusions.
And he'd stay far, far away from any romantic entanglements, with Suga or anyone else—even if the mysterious Kuroo turned out to be as much of a babe as the other two omegas.
He simply had to because if there was one thing he'd learned tonight, it was that this apartment was a minefield, and Daichi had no idea where the bombs were buried. It would be hard, but he'd done hard things before. He could certainly do this. Probably.