“Kiyoko, can I ask a favor of you?”
The two of them were standing together on one side of the net, starting to remove the knots from the pole. On the other side are Daichi and Asahi, working diligently to achieve the same result. Suga stared shamelessly at the way Daichi’s arms flex with his movements, the way his practice shirt clung to his broad shoulders. His tongue was poking slightly out of his mouth as he works, an old habit of his that went back as far as Suga could remember, and a cute one at that. One of his favorites, his others being Daichi running a hand through his hair when he’s stressed, the way he bites his lip when he’s thinking, and Suga’s personal favorite, stretching his arms in his seat during class. Suga, who sat behind him, could admire the way they tensed and relaxed, sometimes with a satisfactory pop, as he tilted his head to one side and the other while his muscles bulged in his uniform.
God, Daichi looked so good in a uniform. Suga had a feeling Daichi would look good in anything. He’d told Suga he was considering becoming a police officer, and though Suga had at first teased him about making sure not to report him for underage smoking on one or two occasions, picturing Daichi in a police uniform with handcuffs was almost too much. He could imagine it now — his wrists cuffed together, slung over his head while Daichi took his time ravaging every inch of his body with those strong hands of his, licking his lips and deciding where to attach them first while he slowly moved Suga’s pants out of the way—
Kiyoko cleared her throat.
Suga yelped and his feet actually left the floor when he jumped.
“You needed a favor?” Her expression was unassuming, but Suga felt like she had seen inside his head for a moment and was judging him severely. Kiyoko was a nice girl — his favorite girl, actually, besides his own mother — but her gaze was characteristically piercing. He had to remind himself that — no, she would not judge him. She probably wouldn’t even think anything of his request, given how accepting she was and what good friends they were.
“Y-yeah,” he took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “Would you- um- would you mind lending me a skirt?”
She stared at him blankly, her eyebrow raising slightly, but in surprise, not judgment. “A skirt?” She repeated.
“Yes, please,” Suga looked down at his shoes, scratching his head. “I’ve just been thinking about it recently, and, um, I wanted to see if it would look good?”
It was half of the truth, at least. The other half had to do with a certain volleyball captain who Suga was definitely not just fantasizing about handcuffing his wrists together.
Suga wasn’t sure exactly when his little (an under-exaggeration) crush on his best friend had started. The first memory he could recall was around the end of their first year. Daichi spent the night at his place to do some studying, and they were both too tired to pull out the trundle, so they ended up just sleeping together in Suga’s bed. Suga could still feel the way Daichi’s arms had wrapped around him as he slept soundly, he remembered the way his heart had started racing and his cheeks had felt hot. The following night, even after Daichi had left, the comforter and pillows smelled faintly like pine, and Suga had spent a good chunk of time simply inhaling the scent instead of sleeping.
Ever since then, Suga hadn’t looked at him the same. He wanted Daichi to hold him in those strong arms again, wanted to map out his muscles with his hands, taste his lips with his own. He’d always admired Daichi’s skilled leadership, and the way he was able to make decisions and take charge. He liked how Daichi was selfless and encouraging, and how he cared deeply about his friends and his teammates, going to any and all lengths to make sure they felt safe and comfortable with one another and themselves, even if he pushed the team hard. He loved Daichi’s smile, and the way he laughed with his arms clutching around his stomach. He loved hearing his name come from Daichi’s lips, and he loved the way Daichi’s name sounded coming from his own. He loved the warmth in Daichi’s eyes, the softness of his hair, the sweetness in his voice that Suga liked to pretend was reserved only for him.
What he didn’t like about Daichi, however, was the fact that he liked girls.
Or he did as far as Suga knew, because he’d never talked about boys before. Then again, Suga hadn’t talked about boys with him either, mainly because Daichi was the only person he was attracted to. Sure, Suga had had a crush here and there before they’d met, but they were nothing like this. This smothering need to be close to him, to press the sides of their bodies together as one of them slung their arm around the other. Suga decided it would be best to never bring it up. One conversation would lead to another, and the next question would be, “how’d you discover that you liked boys?” and Suga wouldn’t be able to answer, despite it being harmless and well-intended. Daichi was oblivious, and Suga preferred it stay that way.
However, he was incredibly jealous of girls. They didn’t even have to try and already they were a step higher than Suga on Daichi’s Grand Standard Pyramid(trademark) which might be pretty Grand indeed, because Daichi had never had a girlfriend, and though he always told Suga about his crushes they were few and far between. His most recent, and likely still occurring, was Michimiya, which Suga could easily understand. She was very pretty, and her and Daichi were similar in their devotion and their leadership abilities. Suga thought, albeit bitterly, that they would make a very nice couple.
Still, a boy can dream, and this was why he was asking Kiyoko for a skirt.
One, he wanted to feel pretty for once, two, he wanted to feel pretty enough for Daichi.
It’s not like he thought he was bad looking. Oikawa, the prideful king himself, had gone out of his way to flirt with Suga on multiple occasions in the time before and after matches, until Iwaizumi came by and yanked him away with a grunted apology. He and Oikawa had become good friends, unsurprisingly, exchanging numbers at some point and now they texted each other frequently. Oikawa had urged him to just confess to Daichi already, telling him he was “impossible to refuse” and “irresistibly refreshing,” but Suga preferred to just suffer in the shadows than potentially ruin his friendship.
He would never be Daichi’s type, no matter how hard he tried.
But again, he could pretend.
Kiyoko was smiling up at him, her eyes gentle and encouraging. This lifted his spirits considerably.
“I’d be happy to lend you one,” she told him, and he lit up with excitement. “You can come by after practice today and pick one out.”
“Really?” Suga’s heart warmed and he scooped Kiyoko into a hug. “You’re too kind, Kiyoko.”
She awkwardly patted his back, but chuckled appreciatively nonetheless.
Nishinoya was sprinting toward them, Tanaka not far in tow.
“C’mon! How come Suga gets a hug?” Noya pouted. “This is pretty privilege at its finest.”
“You’re plenty pretty, Noya,” Asahi appeared with a sigh, dragging him away by the back of his collar with an apologetic glance Suga’s direction. Asahi was well aware of Suga’s little crush, but had kept it a secret because he was a good friend, and that’s what good friends do. He did, however, force them together in subtle ways, such as having them pick things up from the store together or breaking away from them to talk to Noya when it was just the three of them in a group. Asahi had also developed a little crush on Noya, which he didn’t tell Suga, but Suga could see it plain as day.
“Awwww, thanks Asahi!” Noya gushed.
“Hey! What about me?!” Tanaka scowled. Suga watched with amusement as Asahi scratched the back of his head, his mouth quirking into a sort of mischievous smile.
“Well . . .”
“I’ll get you for that, man bun!” Tanaka chased after him, ripping his shirt off and whirling it around as if he were hoping it would propel him into the air like a helicopter. “Just because I shaved my head doesn’t mean I’m not pretty!”
Tsukishima snorted from where he stood with Yamaguchi, and Yamaguchi was hiding a snicker behind his hand. In another corner, Hinata and Kageyama were arguing over who was prettier (each supporting themselves, by the way, though Suga hoped to see the day they would argue in favor of each other. For now, he decided to appreciate Hinata calling Kageyama a “knockoff Haruka Nanase” and in turn Kageyama calling him a “stunted baby carrot”). He sighed. Suga was going to miss this team.
“What’s that look for?”
Suga jumped again as Daichi’s hand clapped him on the shoulder, squeezing it slightly. He wore a lopsided sort of grin, the concern peeking through his eyebrows.
Suga put on his usual smile, shaking his head. “Nothing. I’m just going to miss this team, is all.”
“Awww, Suga,” Daichi slid his arm around his shoulder and ruffled a hand in Suga’s silvery hair, Suga’s heartbeat speeding up as he did. “The year is nowhere near over yet. We just got back from our first training camp of the season last week.”
“Yeah, I know,” Suga smiled at Daichi, trying to seem as calm as possible. “But I’m already getting too attached. It’s worrying.”
Daichi chuckled. “You’re adorable, Suga.”
There it was again. The words made his head feel all fuzzy, even if Daichi didn’t mean them the way Suga wanted him to.
“Am I still coming over later today so we can work on that paper for biology?” Daichi asked.
Suga nodded, exchanging a subtle look with Kiyoko. “Yeah. I just have to pick something up first.”
“Okay, cool,” Daichi flashed him a grin. “I’ll drop my other books back at home so I won’t have to lug them around. I’ll meet you there, then?”
“Sure,” Suga flashed him an equally bright smile. “You know the drill. If I’m not there yet, let yourself in.”
That was the standard protocol anyway. Usually, either of them could just show up at one another’s houses without warning. Suga liked to surprise Daichi by visiting his siblings, who had started to become much more fond of Suga than Daichi, as he’d been told Daichi’s siblings were always disappointed when Daichi came home without him. Sometimes they walked each other back, even though Suga did live the next block over, but they enjoyed each other’s company. It was nice when their arms or hands accidentally brushed together — Suga learned to appreciate it once he stopped reacting like he’d been shocked. It was an excuse, a situation in which he could pretend that Daichi was his, and he was Daichi’s, and that Daichi didn’t like pretty girls like Yui Michimiya, and instead liked pretty boys named Koushi Sugawara.
About ten minutes later, he was walking home with Kiyoko. Ten minutes after that, he was standing in her room, staring carefully at the array of skirts she had picked out for him. She suggested the pastel yellow one, and he’d agreed, as it was his favorite.
“You should keep it,” she added, folding it neatly and handing it to him. “I don’t wear it often. I was thinking of giving it to Yachi, but she already has one like this.”
“Are you sure?” Suga blushed. Seriously, what did he do to deserve friends like this? She nodded, smiling.
“Very sure,” she nodded. “You’ll probably wear it better, anyway.”
On his way out, after thanking her profusely, she handed him a little bag of hair clips.
“It’s getting a little long, and I’ve noticed you have to brush it out of your eyes a lot during practice,” she said. “I figured they might help.”
Suga stared at them in disbelief, practically melting into the floor. He accepted them gratefully.
“Kiyoko, does anybody ever tell you that you’re the world’s best manager?” Suga beamed at her. “Because you deserve to hear it more often.”
She blushed slightly, smiling down at her shoes.
“Thank you, Suga,” she replied. “I hope you like the skirt. It will look great on you, I’m sure.”
“Thanks again for letting me keep it, I really appreciate it,” Suga hugged her again. “Let me know if you ever need anything. I’d be happy to help.”
Kiyoko smiled. “Sure.”
They bid each other goodbye, and Suga was already on his way back home.
* * *
His phone dinged when he’s reached his front doorstep. It was Daichi, asking if he could take a quick shower before he came over. Suga teased him for thinking he had to ask before replying with an “of course you can shower, take your time.” He now had a window of time to try on the skirt, and Suga found he was much more excited about this than he should be. He waved a quick hello to his younger brother Kaoru in the kitchen (who rolled his eyes at him, as usual) before proceeding upstairs.
The first thing he did was lay the skirt flat on his bed, smoothing the creases in which Kiyoko had so neatly folded for him. He then moved to his closet to figure out what to wear on the top. From what Suga could surmise, lots of girls wore their skirts with crewnecks or sweaters, and he opted for the latter, choosing one from the far right of his closet. He pulled at the ends of his shirt and tugged it off. He slid on the grey sweater that just barely hung onto his shoulders, highlighting the graceful lines of his collarbone. He smoothed his hair down slightly and opened the bag of clips Kiyoko had given him, selecting two yellow ones that he used to push back his bangs. A few stray silver strands still hung in his face, but Suga liked the way it looked. The hair clips matched the color of the skirt, and the yellow complimented him nicely.
Next came the pants, and he steeled his resolve before slipping them off and replacing them with the skirt. There was a small zipper on the side that he had to unzip to fit over his pillowy thighs, then a bit further around his hips, before it settled on his waist. He zipped it back up, and it was a comfortable fit around him. He smiled to himself before taking a deep breath and turning to look at his mirror.
Suga looked pretty. And he felt damn pretty too.
The clips were certainly a nice touch for his hair, adding a soft pop of color to the otherwise grey expanse. The sweater hung slightly off one shoulder, contrasting nicely with his skin. His eyes drifted down to the main piece with anticipation. The skirt ended just above his thighs, and he should have surmised this, given Kiyoko was shorter than him, but it was a pleasant surprise. He twisted and turned at different angles, admiring the way it fit his form. A grin rested on his face. Did girls feel like this when they put on skirts too? Maybe he should buy some. As he stared, he vaguely felt like something was missing. As great as the skirt looked, it would be nice to have some stockings or thigh-highs to go along with it.
And that was how he found himself on a mission to raid his mother’s closet. He walked by Kaoru’s room in the process, and noticed his brother had migrated there from the kitchen. He wanted somebody to share his excitement with, even though he knew Kaoru would probably make fun of him, as he always did.
“Hey, Kaoru! Come look!” Suga called excitedly. When there was no response, he marched over to Kaoru’s room and knocked on the door. He was sure Kaoru could feel it opposed to hearing it, because when he appeared at the door Suga noticed his headphones were lying on his desk haphazardly, as if he’d just taken them off.
“What do you need? I’m on a phone call with Takeru,” Kaoru frowned up at him before his eyes slowly traveled down, and he made a face. He snorted, his shoulders shaking slightly.
“Koushi, you look like a girl,” he laughed, then pointing at the clips in his hair. “And what are those for? The girls in my class wear those.”
Suga huffed. “That’s kind of the whole point.”
Kaoru wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Why would you want to look like a girl? Girls are gross!”
Suga laughed, patting his head in a big-brotherly fashion. “You wouldn’t understand yet, Kaoru. Maybe you will when you’re older.”
“You’re so weird, Koushi,” Kaoru rolled his eyes. “Can I go back to playing Minecraft with Takeru now?”
“Yes, you can,” Suga chuckled, ruffling his hair once more. “I’ll leave you be.”
“Finally,” Kaoru muttered as Suga closed the door behind him. From the other end, he could hear Kaoru’s muffled end of the conversation, saying things like “my older brother is so weird” and “yeah, your uncle is pretty weird too” a pause, then, “does he wear skirts?” followed by “do boys just want to wear skirts as they get older? Because if so, I don’t wanna get older.”
Suga decided to stop eavesdropping then, chuckling mildly to himself and returning to his room across the hall. Ever since Oikawa and Suga had become friends, Kaoru had quickly made friends with Oikawa’s nephew. They were both bluntly honest, with matching eye-rolls and a similar sense of humor. Kaoru was a year older, but since they were both in primary school it wasn’t that big of a deal. They often spent long hours of the day playing together, sometimes helping each other with homework, since Kaoru didn’t like asking Suga. Suga didn’t mind all that much — he helped Daichi’s siblings all the time, and he knew Kaoru just liked to be independent.
He dug around in his mother’s closet for a pair of thigh-highs, which he was able to find easily. He would return them before she got back, obviously, but for now they were a necessary accessory to complete the outfit.
When Suga returned to his room, he put his headphones in as he pulled the white stockings over his legs, feeling the filmy material cling to his skin. It wasn’t unpleasant, and as Suga admitted it to himself, he rather liked the feeling. Meanwhile, Clairo blasted pleasantly through his ears and he hummed slightly to himself. Repositioning himself in front of the mirror, he took a picture and sent it to Kiyoko, thanking her again for all of her help. Her reply was just as enthusiastic and heartwarming as he’d expected.
so cute, suga!! i love it!! :))
glad i could help <3
Kiyoko was truly a gift from heaven, he thought to himself. Whatever lucky person had her as a wife or girlfriend would be a very lucky person indeed.
He took another picture, sending it to Oikawa, purely to get a reaction from him. Suga laughed at the response when it came in a few minutes later.
mr. refreshing indeed ;))
brb, im telling iwa-chan im
He could always count on Tooru Oikawa to be his personal hype-man, even if Daichi Sawamura couldn’t. Though the skirt was mostly for self-indulgent pining purposes, he couldn’t imagine Daichi’s reaction to seeing him in it. Would he be confused? Ashamed? Suga shuddered. Hopefully not ashamed. He wondered what was taking Daichi so long, anyway. It’s not like he spent particularly long in the shower, and he hated keeping Suga waiting, even if Suga didn’t really mind. He was very studious, so it was unlike him to show up late to a study or homework session, even if they hadn’t set a particular time.
He thought he heard a noise behind him, and so he shut off Clairo — just for the time being. He listened for another noise and didn’t hear anything else, but he pulled his earbuds out just in case, placing them on his desk and returning to the spot by his mirror. Easing off his nerves, he decided to admire his outfit a little more. He noticed that the skirt paired with the thigh-highs made his thighs look shapely and plumper. Not that they weren’t shapely or plump normally, but the skirt really enhanced it. He felt very pretty, poking at one of the pastel yellow clips in his hair and smiling to himself. He shook his head. He should really take this off though, before Daichi comes over and—
He watched, in horrific slow-motion, as the doorknob twisted, and the space between the door and the doorframe grew larger and larger. What was worse, the shadow of two feet were clearly imprinted in the small rectangle between the door and the carpet, and an all too familiar head of hair was poking through. Suga usually loved that messy, dark cut — he was always staring at the back of it in class — but now, it was quite possibly the last thing he wanted to see.
He was proven wrong when the entirety of Daichi’s face poked through the door, followed by the rest of him. This was somehow worse, given that now that he was more than just a mess of hair, he could see Suga if he turned around. He still hadn’t looked at Suga yet, his attention currently on closing the door behind him. Maybe, if Suga ran fast enough, he could make it to the window and jump out before he turned. Yeah, that sounded reasonable, just one quick step and—
Slowly, painstakingly so, he turned around.
Suga thought, sardonically, that if his luck would have it, he could just die on the spot. Save himself from ever having to know Daichi’s reaction to seeing him in a skirt. He willed it, willed it harder, willed it for him to at least fall unconscious — but to no avail. There was no getting out of this. Suga would just have to live with the embarrassment.
He faced Daichi fully, suddenly fascinated with his beige carpet.
Daichi’s bag fell to the floor with a thud.
“H-Hey, Daichi,” Suga said, mostly to his own feet, which were clothed in the thigh-highs he was painfully reminded that he was wearing. He waved straight ahead. “Sorry, I, um, must not have heard you come in.”
There was a long silence, where Suga contemplated the ways he could disappear off the face of the earth, before,
“Huh?” Daichi had spoken with such haste and alarm that Suga had to look up, eyebrows knitted in confusion. This was a mistake, because as soon as he met Daichi’s eyes, he noticed that they were roving up and down his form, never lingering on one place too long. Down at his thigh-highs, to the pastel yellow miniskirt, to the silver sweater, to the clips scattered in Suga’s hair, and finally, to his face. Daichi’s mouth formed around soundless syllables, his face an uncomfortable-looking shade of red. Suga knew he himself didn’t have much room to talk — he could feel the heat crawling up from under his skin and threatening to burn him alive. He secretly hoped it would.
“I-” Daichi finally managed, sputtering, “I should have just - um - texted you, or something. I- uh, I called for you earlier, when I- uh- got here, but you didn’t answer. So I figured you were- um - still picking something up, or something.”
Every “uh” or “um” or stammered “I-” was punctuated by Daichi’s eyes flicking to the skirt, or the thigh highs, or the clips, and back to Suga’s face. All Suga could do was stand there, not trusting himself to speak. Even if he did, he wasn’t sure exactly what he would say.
“That’s okay,” he replied, his voice high and tight. His hands began to wring themselves behind his back. His eyes found the ground again.
Daichi cleared his throat.
“I’ll - um - leave, so you can- uh- change, if you want,” he swallowed heavily, turning to go, and Suga for once couldn’t wait for him to leave so he could suffocate himself in his pillow. However, he paused, prolonging Suga’s fatal embarrassment, and he turned halfway back around. He was running a hand through his hair, his eyes on the carpet. Suga would have found it cute had he not been about to evaporate from mortification. Daichi bit his lip, hesitating for a second before speaking again. His words took Suga by surprise.
“B-but, if you don’t want to, that’s f-fine with me.”
Suga cocked his head to the side, a hopeful stir in his chest. Daichi wasn’t going to abandon him? Disown him as his best friend? Make fun of him for it? “You— you don’t think it’s weird?”
Daichi immediately raised his hands and shook them quickly, defensively.
“Of course not! You can wear a skirt if you want to wear a skirt, I just,” he paused as his eyes trailed slowly down Suga’s legs, his voice going all thready as if he’d suddenly forgotten how to breathe. “I don’t think I’ll be able to focus.” He gulped. “On- uh- macrobiology, that is.”
The remark made Suga go impossibly redder — or at least, he thought it did — and his heart felt like it was performing some impressive acrobatics in his chest. His skin was on fire with embarrassment, an itch starting to form on the back of his leg. Suga moved the other foot to scratch at it, and noticed the way Daichi’s eyes immediately moved down to his skirt, staring avidly at the way it shifted around his hips and pressed itself against Suga’s thighs as he lifted his leg. Perhaps it was his skill as a setter at reading people, or perhaps it was simply wishful thinking, but either way, Suga had come to a conclusion.
“Do you,” he paused, twisting his face slightly in hesitance. “Do you like it?”
Daichi nodded slowly, his eyes slightly unfocused, as if mesmerized.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “A lot more than I think I should.”
Suga felt his heart stutter in his chest.
“Really?” Suga crossed one leg over the other experimentally, pushing his thighs together. Daichi’s breath hitched in his throat, and a small smile overtook Suga’s face. He was more relieved than anything, but now he had a whole lot of questions. Did Daichi like boys after all, or was it just because Suga was dressed like a girl? Did he have a thing for that? Probably, by the way he was staring shamelessly at Suga’s legs, as if hoping that if he looked at them long enough they’d come marching over and wrap themselves around his waist.
“Y-yeah,” he stammered. “You look— p-pretty.”
Suga laughed nervously, his nails digging slightly into his forearm behind his back. He couldn’t tell if this was a dream or a nightmare. He took a hesitant step forward, and Daichi mirrored his action, bringing them just the slightest bit closer together.
“Pretty, huh?” Suga raised an eyebrow, putting on a teasing smile and hoping his nerves didn’t push through. Pretty how? Pretty enough to kiss? Pretty enough to touch? Pretty enough to maybe, possibly fall in love with? “I take it that’s a good thing.”
“Y-you always look pretty,” Daichi’s cheeks were red. He glanced down at the floor, then back at Suga. He blinked at him a few times as if trying to gauge whether or not he was hallucinating. “I’ve just— I never— wow.”
He . . . he always looked pretty? Suga was sure Daichi was just trying to make him feel better. After all, the situation was incredibly awkward. But still, he liked to dream.
“I hope that’s a good wow,” Suga took another step forward, pressing his thighs together again and watching the way Daichi’s eyes widened. “Not a— wow, my best friend is lame because he dresses like a girl, or a— wow, Suga’s a lot weirder than I first thought, and now I won’t speak to him again.”
Daichi’s response was a soft chuckle.
“Suga,” he chastised. “I’d never think either of those things about you.” He looked at the floor again, swallowing deeply, before saying,
“It was a— wow, I am definitely into you, k-kind of wow.”
Suga stared at him in surprise. He was joking, right? Straightforward, straight-laced, steady, Sawamura Daichi was into him? But he thought—
“But I thought—”
“Yeah, me too,” Daichi awkwardly scratched the back of his head again. “I don’t even know when it started. I just found myself staring at you a lot more often during practice, and on our walks home, I had this weird urge to reach out and just grab your hand. You have the best smile, Suga, and your laugh is adorable, but I’m sure you’ve heard that all before. You’re like — made of sunshine, or sugar, or something. I love being around you, and now I’m just addicted.” He took a shaky breath. “And I know it’s weird, because you’re my best friend, and I’ve never liked a guy like this before, but it’s really hard when you’re already so pretty and now you’re dressed like that and I seriously don’t know how to handle myself.” His speech had gradually dropped the pauses and became rushed and nervous, his eyes flicking between Suga and his skirt and the floor.
Suga figured he should say something. He really should, so Daichi wasn’t standing there having a nervous breakdown in his doorway. But he couldn’t find his ability to speak — he seemed to have lost it, temporarily. What did he say? This all felt surreal, like it wasn’t actually happening, but it truly was. His eyes were wide, like a deer in the headlights, his throat dry. He fumbled for a response, but by the time his head was clear enough and his breath was steady enough even if his heart wasn’t pumping slowly enough, Daichi had left the room and closed the door softly behind him.
“Daichi, wait!” He called, flinging open the door with incredible haste. He grabbed Daichi’s wrist that was just hardly still in reach and pulled him backward, Daichi making a startled noise of surprise as Suga yanked him back into the room. With resolve, he closed the door behind the two of them and pushed Daichi roughly back against it, the adrenaline coursing through him encouraging him to do what he’d wanted to for years. He tangled one hand in Daichi’s hair and cupped his face with the other. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to Daichi’s with fervor. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing on conveying years of pining to his best friend through one kiss. There was a moments hesitation on the other end before Daichi began to kiss him back, laying his hands on Suga’s shoulders and returning the kiss with equal passion. His hands slowly slid down Suga’s arms to rest comfortably on his waist. As his lips were mercilessly attacked, he was smiling.
Suga smiled back into the kiss, his confidence restored despite his racing heart. Using his tongue, he requested entry from Daichi, whose lips parted automatically as if he’d been waiting for Suga to ask. Their tongues explored each other’s mouths, shyly at first. Suga removed his left hand from Daichi’s face and lightly grasped Daichi’s wrist at his waist. Of course, being the gentlemen he was, Daichi’s first instinct was to pull his hand away, as he assumed Suga wasn’t ready for it. Suga, however, was for more than ready — he’d been waiting for this moment for too long. Smirking slightly to himself as he bit Daichi’s lip, he slid Daichi’s hand down his body to cup his ass through the skirt. Daichi gasped as Suga rolled his hips forward into him, his hand involuntarily squeezing Suga’s flesh. Suga hummed pleasantly, continuing to kiss Daichi breathless, his grip tightening in Daichi’s hair as he rolled his hips forward again. He was already half hard, and he could feel Daichi’s growing erection through his shorts.
“S-Suga,” Daichi pulled away to breathe, his face extremely flustered and his chest heaving. Suga’s breath hitched at the way Daichi stuttered his name. His cheeks were flushed, deep brown eyes eyes glazed over and lustful, almost manic. “Since when have you— how did you— why are you—”
Suga pressed his body even closer to Daichi’s, so close he could feel Daichi’s heartbeat beside his own. He leaned forward and kissed the corner of Daichi’s mouth, leaving a trail of kisses all the way to Daichi’s ear, where he sucked and nibbled on the earlobe, making Daichi gasp and groan beside him.
“Daichi,” he drew the second syllable of his name out in a sing-song whisper, Daichi shivering at Suga’s breath by his ear. “I can’t answer your questions if you don’t finish them, sweetheart.”
Daichi shuddered at the nickname, a small noise coming from his throat. Suga began the attack on his neck, nibbling his way down the side and biting harshly into his collarbone. Meanwhile, Daichi groped at his ass with his left hand and slid his right beneath the sweater, feeling Suga’s washboard abs beneath his fingers before they rose up to brush by Suga’s nipple. He gasped at the sensation, rolling his hips into Daichi again, pleasantly surprised as the brunette rolled his hips back, his head falling backward to expose more kissable flesh. Suga licked his lips and continued his attack there. Daichi’s hands drifted lower and began to mold Suga’s thighs, suppressing a groan as he did so. Suga shuddered at the sensation, his thighs being particularly responsive to touch.
“God, I love your legs,” his eyes fluttered closed. “The amount of times I’ve thought about how nice it would be to have them around my waist where I could touch them like this. This is so nice, I feel like I’m dreaming.”
The giggle Suga released turned into a moan as Daichi’s hands kneaded his thighs, sending wonderful sensations throughout his whole body. Daichi grinned teasingly, looking victorious.
“Oh, and they’re sensitive too, aren’t they?” He skated his fingers around Suga’s skin, leaving Suga gasping for breath into Daichi’s neck, his knees starting to shake at the pleasure. “Looks like I’ve found your weak spot, Suga.”
Suga managed a shaky laugh.
“You’re my weak spot, Daichi,” he grinned.
This seemed like it was enough to take Daichi by surprise, as suddenly Suga was pulling Daichi to the bed by the collar of his shirt. He pulled him closer so their lips collided once again, pushing the edge of Daichi’s t-shirt up his torso with his fingers, revealing his beautifully muscular body. Daichi assisted him eagerly in sliding it all the way off, so that he was now shirtless, breaking the kiss only for a moment before returning his lips to Suga with even more heat and desperation than before. Suga ran his hands down Daichi’s back, feeling out his muscles the way he’d always wanted to, the warmth of his palms against the firm mounds of Daichi’s shoulders.
He released a satisfied sigh, shifting his weight backward to sit onto the bed, Daichi’s ravenous lips chasing after him. Suga moved himself backward, planting his feet on the bed and lying down. Daichi straddled him, hanging over him on all fours and bending his arms to lean down and remain attached to Suga, sliding his tongue over his lips as if trying to taste all of Suga’s sugar-cookie chapstick. Daichi tasted like sweet mint, and still smelled like pine. Suga took a deep inhale of the scent and released it with a soft mmmph against Daichi’s mouth.
Daichi was running his hands along Suga’s stomach, lifting Suga’s sweater to his chest. Suga sat up slightly to remove it all the way, and Daichi took the momentary distraction to launch a counterattack on Suga’s neck and collarbone. His kisses were light and feathery at first, but gradually turned into licks and bites as he took Suga’s skin between his teeth and left pretty pink bruises in his wake. Suga fisted his hand in Daichi’s hair, soft hums and sudden ahs escaping from his lips. He whimpered as Daichi left a particularly nasty, but good-feeling bruise in the crook of Suga’s neck, and Daichi’s lips parted in a pleased smile. He continued his assault with gentler, tender kisses along Suga’s neck, making Suga’s entire body flush with warmth.
“Shit, Daichi,” Suga regained his breath enough to speak soundly again. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long, you have no idea.”
“Enlighten me,” Daichi pulled away to whisper, his breath hot against Suga’s skin. Suga hummed thoughtfully, stroking his hands down Daichi’s back as he did so.
“Since the end of first year,” he mused, “so a year and a half?”
“That long?” Daichi looked up to gape at Suga. “You’ve been waiting that long?”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly waiting, because I thought you only liked girls,” Suga said sheepishly. “It was more like giving up and sulking.”
“I’m so sorry,” Daichi shook his head, leaning forward and wrapping Suga in his arms, kissing the top of his head. Suga felt warm and bubbly all over by the gesture, listening to Daichi talk. “I had no idea. I don’t know exactly when I realized I liked you as more than my best friend, but I remember at the end of last year, the day I was made captain and you were made vice captain, I remember the way you looked at me.” Daichi pulled away and smiled fondly at him, brushing back some of the loose bangs in his face. “You looked so proud and then you started crying out of happiness and I realized I wanted to hold you in my arms and spin you around and kiss your tears away. It felt, well, weird to think about, but you’re my best friend. There’s nobody else I’d rather kiss.”
Suga blushed, his heart steadying as the smile grew on his face. This was real.
“Did you make up your crushes?” Suga raised an amused eyebrow. Daichi chuckled.
“Ah, you’ve caught me. All the most recent ones, yes,” Daichi admitted. “And I changed them up to make them seem more believable.” He gave Suga an equally apologetic and shit-eating grin. “I suppose it worked, then.”
Suga flicked him between the eyes, making a face.
Now that the awkward stammering tension had been broken by hot, passionate makeout session and a talk about their feelings, it was like everything went back to normal, except better. Now, Suga didn’t have to feel guilty about liking the way Daichi held him just a little too much. He didn’t have to feel guilty about wanting to kiss him and touch him in ways nobody else got to. He didn’t feel like being a boy was a curse, anymore. He did, however, still like the skirt. And apparently Daichi did, too.
“So is that what you had to pick up?” Daichi’s eyes drifted down to Suga’s skirt, which was just barely covering all the necessary parts in his position.
“Mhm,” Suga hummed shifting his hips around on the mattress and watching the way Daichi’s eyes followed them, hypnotized. “I’m glad you like it.”
“Give me a warning, next time,” Daichi chuckled, positioning himself downward and pressing his lips to Suga’s inner thigh, making him shiver with pleasure. Daichi pulled the top of the thigh-highs down and planted a kiss there as well, then put it back in place, smoothing it over with his fingers. “I’ll make sure to bring the right supplies.”
Supplies? Suga questioned, then—
“Oh!” He gasped, both in realization and at the way Daichi started to spread his legs with his fingers and bite at the inside of his left thigh. His breath was quick and uneven, all of the blood in his body rushing back to his dick, which twitched beneath the briefs under his skirt. He fumbled for something to say. “H-how would you like t-to go about using those s-supplies?”
Daichi paused his movements below Suga’s skirt with a kiss to the spot he was currently bruising, and though Suga couldn’t see his face, he could hear the grin in his voice.
“Ideally,” he said, with the authority he used with the team during games. “I’d like to fuck you with this skirt on. Maybe the thigh highs can stay too, but we’ll see.”
Suga felt his soul leave his body. He felt vaguely that he could come just by Daichi talking to him like that.
“Why wait till next time?” Suga heard himself saying before he’d even fully formed the thought. “I’m here, in a skirt, right now, wanting to be fucked. You’re here, right now, wanting to fuck me. I don’t see what the issue is.”
Daichi sat up and stared at him, wide-eyed and blushing.
“You’re — you’re serious?”
Apparently, dirty talk had the same effect on Daichi as it did on Suga.
Suga nodded, shrugging.
“I know you’re a virgin, and you know I’m a virgin, so it’s not like we have to worry about STIs or anything,” Suga said bluntly, “and I have lube, which I bought for the times I think about you—” Daichi’s face went brilliantly red, and Suga fought back a grin, “— but I can just use my mouth, if you want.”
He punctuated his statement with a wink, and watched as Daichi stammered in front of him.
“You know, Suga,” he managed, his voice strengthening. “I’ve always known you were at least a little bit corrupt underneath that innocent smile of yours, but I’m not sure where this bluntness is coming from. I think you’re spending too much time with Oikawa.”
“He’s the one who suggested I start wearing skirts,” Suga countered with a grin.
“Comment redacted,” Daichi replied, matching it. He took his bottom lip between his teeth, the only sign that he was thinking hard about something. He looked back to Suga, expression serious, but the smile still on his face. “It’s up to you and how you’re feeling about all of this. I wouldn’t mind replacing ‘next time’ with today, but only if you’re really comfortable.”
Suga lit up. “Really?” He paused for just a moment, thinking about it. He felt he’d been waiting far too long anyway. Another day would be hell. He wanted Daichi, and he wanted him now.
“Let’s do it,” Suga nodded, eyebrows knitting in certainty. Daichi’s smile turned sultry once more, and he leaned forward once again to press Suga’s lips against his. This time, the kiss was slow, as if they were savoring each passing second (which they were), and Daichi dragged his tongue along the seam of Suga’s lips, and Suga parted them obediently. Suga’s hands found themselves on Daichi’s strong back again, running his palms over the bumps and grooves of his shoulders. One of Daichi’s hands tangled itself in Suga’s hair, while the other held his position over Suga. Slowly, he lowered himself to his elbows, taking the hand that was resting beside Suga’s face and slowly dragging a teasing finger down the center of his body. Suga made a small noise against Daichi’s mouth, and let out a downright sinful whine as Daichi flipped up the fabric of his skirt.
His hand connected with Suga’s erection, palming it through his briefs. Suga’s moan was luckily muffled by Daichi’s lips — he recalled vaguely that his brother was home, but he was playing a game with Takeru. Thank heaven for soundproof headphones.
“I used to wonder what you would sound like if I got to touch you like this,” Daichi murmured into his ear. “I’m glad I don’t have to imagine anymore. You sound so good, Suga.”
“Mmm,” he hummed, eyes fluttering closed at the heat of Daichi’s palm against his groin. “There’s a lot more where this is coming from,” he made sure to spin his name into a breathy whisper, “Daichi.”
Suga felt his heartbeat drop down to his stomach when a growl rumbled through Daichi’s throat. God, that was so hot. His grip tightened in Daichi’s hair and his hips bucked into Daichi’s hand, providing himself with the pressure that he needed. Daichi seemed to understand, because he removed his hand for just a quick moment while he hooked his finger into the waistband of Suga’s briefs and pulled them down to his ankles. Suga gasped at the feeling of his freed member against the skirt and the air around him, then stifled a moan with his hand as Daichi’s hands found his member again. He kicked his briefs all the way off and his toes curled as Daichi wrapped his fingers around him and started to stroke.
Suga reached forward, pressing his palm to Daichi’s chest and twisting it as he smoothed it down his abdomen and to the waistband of his shorts. He began to pull, and Daichi went ahead and finished the job for him. Meanwhile, Suga took the opportunity to move forward slightly beneath him so his own dick was in reach. He was hard through the fabric, and big, as Suga ran his palm up and down his length. He shuddered at the thought of what it would feel like inside him.
Suga dipped his fingers beneath the waistband and began to tease the head of Daichi’s already leaking member with his fingers, and Daichi breathed roughly through his nose with his lips pressed to Suga’s. His grip on Suga’s cock tightened, and Suga keened into the touch. He started to stroke up and down Daichi’s length, moving his other hand from Daichi’s hair to the waistband of his boxers, pulling them off to let Daichi’s cock spring free. Daichi sat up momentarily to kick his boxers off all the way, and Suga seized the opportunity. He pulled Daichi to where he had been laying on the bed, taking the brunette by surprise, and he took Daichi’s place by the edge. He slid off and turned around, kneeling on the floor to face Daichi, who was sitting up. Suga took a good look at his member, licking his lips The adorable look of perplexion on his face became one of realization as his eyebrows shot up; wide, brown eyes took in the sight of Suga, flushing and staring up at him on his knees, the skirt sitting neatly in his lap and hair clips just hardly hanging on by a few strands.
Slowly, Suga inched forward, walking two fingers up Daichi’s leg. Daichi’s breath hitched as Suga reached his cock, wrapping his fingers around the base. Tilting his head forward, he placed a soft kiss to the tip, smiling to himself as it twitched. Suga didn’t know anything about actually giving head, but he’d done his research on how it was supposed to go. He swirled his tongue experimentally around the tip, and Daichi gasped, weaving his hands through Suga’s hair. He didn’t push, he just rested them there encouragingly. Suga smiled to himself — always the gentlemen.
Suga slid Daichi further into his mouth, testing the waters by sliding his tongue along the underside of Daichi’s cock. He was rewarded with a noise between a grunt and a groan, and the feeling of Daichi’s fingers tightening in his hair. Suga was starting to find he rather liked that feeling, and so he continued using his tongue to play Daichi like an instrument. He started to pump with the hand at the base of his cock, slowly sliding down to the point where his lips hit his own fingers. This was the first time he’d had a dick in his mouth, and he definitely didn’t trust himself to go all the way down without embarrassing himself, especially since Daichi was just as big as he’d thought. Instead, he settled for hollowing out his cheeks and bobbing his head. He reached to the side and pulled a bottle from under his bed as inconspicuously as he could.
He looked up at Daichi to see that his eyes were squeezed shut, as if trying to hold himself back, and Suga realized he’d gotten him pretty close. He felt a thrum of pride as he gave one final lick and popped off, Daichi’s eyes blinking open in surprise. Suga smiled up at him, maintaining eye contact as he twisted the cap of the bottle and dumped some of the contents onto his finger. He kept eye contact as he moved his hand behind him and slowly, gently, inserted said finger into his entrance. He felt his eyes flutter shut as he relaxed, pushing past the wall of muscle as he fingered himself, making sure to coat himself with a thorough amount of lube. He curled a finger in on himself, gasping of the feeling of it when it brushed his prostate, before adding a second, making sure to stretch himself enough that it wouldn’t hurt all that badly.
He perked open an eye to see that Daichi seemed paralyzed, his entire face brilliantly red as he watched Suga finger himself. His lips were slightly parted, eyes wide with fascination, or admiration, or maybe just awe.
”This is what I do when I think about you,” Suga panted, leaning his head back slightly. “This is what I do when I think about you deep inside of me, making me scream your name while I take all of you. Shit, I want you so bad, Daichi.”
The brunette moved forward suddenly, fighting out of whatever trace Suga had unknowingly placed him in. He rested a hand on Suga’s shoulder, sliding it upward to comb through his hair, the gesture gentle and soothing, but his eyes dark and hungry.
Suga froze his motions, his ears going red at the words that had just met them. Daichi was offering to prep him. Suga tilted his head to the side, a teasing smile on his face.
“Have your fingers been anywhere near an asshole before?”
“They were right by yours about fifteen minutes ago,” Daichi smirked back at him, and Suga acquiesced. Daichi was a quick learner, and Suga was a good teacher. He picked up the bottle as Daichi helped him back onto the bed, looking particularly smug. He lied pointedly on his stomach, turning his head to the side and resting his cheek on the back of his hands, which were stacked atop each other.
“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry,” Daichi assured him. Suga could hear the cap coming off and the sound combined with the thought that holy shit Daichi was about to finger him made his whole body tingle. He gasped as he felt Daichi’s finger line up with his entrance, slowly beginning to slide in. Suga did his best to relax to make it easier for him, but immediately tensed as his finger pushed past the tight ring of muscle. Daichi’s fingers were thicker and coarser than his, so Suga felt a lot fuller with Daichi’s than his own. He hummed pleasantly as Daichi took his time to make sure Suga was comfortable, then he gasped harshly as Daichi surprised him by curling his finger against his prostate.
Daichi chuckled to himself.
“Note to self; do that more often.”
Suga couldn’t help but roll his eyes.
“You are such a captain,” he mused. “Don’t make notes to self out loud when you’re about to fuck m- ah!”
Daichi had curled his finger again, effectively silencing him.
“Oh, Suga,” he sighed dramatically, his tone teasing. “You know being captain means that I know how to keep my team in line.”
Suga felt another finger slowly slide into him, and he whimpered into his hands. This was seriously too good to be true. Daichi was hot either way, but boy did it turn Suga on when Daichi talked to him like that. He scissored his fingers around inside Suga, effectively stretching him and coating his walls with lube. Suga was surprised at the lack of instruction he’d actually had to give — Daichi must have been watching him carefully earlier. Suga was disappointed for a fraction of a second when Daichi removed his fingers, but then remembered what was coming next. He could still hardly believe he was here right now, all thanks to this skirt. He reminded himself to thank Oikawa for suggesting he start wearing them, and he planned to tell him just about everything. He also, of course reminded himself to thank Kiyoko later, though with far less specifics.
“Are you ready?” Daichi asked, suddenly breathless. Suga nodded, turning to face him.
“Do you want me to face you?” He asked.
“I want to see you,” Daichi answered, and so Suga repositioned himself on the bed. Daichi climbed over him, and they took a bit of time to figure out just how and where to put their legs and hands. Finally, they were in perfect position. Daichi leaned forward, meeting Suga’s lips with a tender, warm sort of kiss. There was want, need, but nothing harsh or raw. Daichi was communicating how much he cared for Suga, letting him know that he was safe and that he wanted this just as badly as Suga. Suga reciprocated the action, making sure he put every ounce of tender love for Daichi on display with his lips. His hands moved from Daichi’s hair to rest on his shoulders, rubbing them soothingly. They each took a deep breath in turn, and Daichi began to move his hips forward.
A weak noise escaped Suga’s lips as he felt the head of Daichi’s cock against his entrance. Daichi slowly made his way in, fighting between closing his eyes tightly to hold himself back and watching the way Suga’s face twisted with pleasure as he slowly filled him with his cock. Suga felt so incredibly good and full, despite the initial pain. The pleasure far outweighed it. Daichi was way better than Suga’s fingers in every way — he’d get used to the size over time. Yet, for now, was no fortune teller, but a week or two of taking it easy during practice seemed in his near future.
His thoughts were interrupted by Daichi’s sudden muttered swearing from above him. Hearing Daichi swear made Suga feel butterflies start to overtake his chest — Daichi always tried his best not to curse, but when he did it was intoxicating. Especially when Suga’s name was at the end of it.
“Fuck, Suga,” he said, voice quiet and strained. “You’re so tight.”
“You feel so good, Daichi,” Suga replied, eyes closing and feeling himself clench around Daichi, “and you’re doing great.”
“Thanks,” Daichi exhaled, lightly placing his hands on Suga’s hips again. “You feel really good too.”
The fabric of the skirt was flipped up onto Suga’s stomach, and Daichi slowly began to pull out and push back in. Suga’s walls squeezed around him as he did so, his thighs starting to shake at Daichi’s sides. Daichi moved one hand that had been on Suga’s hip and supported Suga’s trembling thigh, sliding his hand up and down soothingly. Suga moaned, high and needy, as Daichi thrust back into him, this time with more intention. It was painstakingly slow at first, as they both just got used to the feeling of each other. Suga could almost feel tears at the back of his eyes, just because it hurt so good. He gasped suddenly, his vision going white as Daichi’s cock connected with his prostate for the first time.
Daichi’s eyebrows knitted in concern, even as his breaths were labored.
“That was a good sound, right?” He asked.
Suga nodded fervently, panting.
“Yes,” he breathed. “Please, do it again.”
Daichi relaxed, smiling now. He thrusted into the same spot again, his grin widening at the way Suga whimpered beneath him. Daichi soon found a rhythm, hitting his prostate just right with every thrust. Suga made sure that Daichi knew how good he was feeling — not like he could stop himself, as the moans and cries bubbled past his lips and into the hot air between them. His nails started to dig into Daichi’s shoulders, but Daichi didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he was encouraging it by speeding up. Suga’s breaths became quick and uneven, his head starting to spin with pleasure. Holy shit, he could feel pressure starting to build up in his groin. He was close, which made sense after all that beforehand, but he didn’t want it to end, so he held himself back. After all, he’d been waiting for this for far too long. It wasn’t going to end quite yet.
Suga’s nails were starting to leave marks on Daichi’s back, and Suga was looking forward to tracing them later. His skin was hot beneath his fingertips, Daichi’s breath drawing closer and closer to his ear as his movements grew faster and more intense. The bed had started to creak beneath them, but they could hardly hear it beneath the sounds of each other’s moans and heavy breathing. Suga’s vision was honestly starting to spin, but he held on, he had to. He couldn’t let go until—
“S-Suga,” Daichi panted in his ear, his voice close to a growl. “I’m close.”
“M-me too,” he managed a reply. “Fuck, you’re so good at this, Daichi.”
“Only because you t-take me so well,” Daichi huffed, his head falling forward into Suga’s shoulder. Suga’s heart fluttered at the praise, while his nails dragged another set of stripes down Daichi’s back. Daichi opened his mouth to speak again, but was taking a considerable amount of time to form actual words. “Where- where should I come?”
Suga smiled, tilting his head sideways to whisper as steadily as he could in Daichi’s ear.
“Right where you are, sweetheart.”
And just like that, he was gone.
Daichi muffled his cry of pleasure in Suga’s shoulder as he came, hot and hard. Feeing Daichi pulse inside of him while he called out his name is what sent Suga over, his come spilling all over them and making a mess of their chests. He covered his mouth with his hand, as he was practically yelling Daichi’s name, his vision going white with the wave of orgasm threatening to drown him. His legs were still shaking, in fact, his whole body was shaking, because it felt so damn good.
He started to come down after what felt like a lot longer than it actually was, as he savored each second of bliss before returning to reality. Daichi was just barely holding himself up, and Suga invited him to collapse against his chest, which he did gratefully. They didn’t speak, just caught their breath. Warmth radiated off their bodies in the afterglow, and Suga’s lithe hands lazily glided up and down Daichi’s beautiful back, now marred with scratches he still couldn’t believe he’d left.
Oh, the questions he’d get asked in the locker room. Suga couldn’t wait to make eye contact with him while Tanaka or Noya pestered him with questions about them, he couldn’t wait to see the blush on his face when they asked. It’s not like the hickeys Daichi left on him would go quite unnoticed either, but nobody on the team would be able to put two and two together — well, except maybe Asahi, and Kiyoko. Probably Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, too. Those two knew everything, it was kind of scary.
Daichi suddenly left his arms to roll off of him, which was somewhat of a relief. As much as Suga wanted to hold him, they were both sticky and sweaty, and the feeling wasn’t exactly pleasant. Daichi took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling, then back to Suga, then back to the ceiling.
“Holy shit,” he whispered softly, still seeming breathless and in disbelief.
Suga quirked an eyebrow. “What?” He asked, his voice slightly hoarse from whining and yelling.
Daichi chuckled, a dreamy smile slipping onto his face.
“I just fucked my best friend.”
Suga decided it was fitting to smack away his shit-eating grin with a pillow.
* * a few minutes earlier * *
“I’m telling you, Takeru, I’ve gotta get out of this house.”
Kaoru thought he’d had his fair share of shenanigans from his older brother; he’d been in a skirt earlier and now he could hear weird noises coming from the bedroom. Kaoru wasn’t quite sure what they could be, but he sure as hell was not about to go investigate. One time he’d walked in on Suga lipsyncing to Nicki Minaj in front of his mirror and he’d had to scrub his eyes and ears for a week.
“What happened this time?” Takeru had heard all of these stories before, and had plenty of his own with his apparently equally odd Uncle Tooru. Despite their weirdness, Kaoru was glad they’d become friends, because he and Takeru got along really well as soon as they first met.
“They’re making weird noises in the other room,” Kaoru explained.
“What kind of noises?” Takeru inquired.
Kaoru listened carefully for a few seconds, trying and failing to identify a word for the mmms and ahs and nnnghs. There had been a few thuds earlier, like something being slammed into the wall.
“Like, grunts, and stuff?” He made a face. “And some loud thuds. Koushi keeps yelling, it’s getting annoying.”
“Oh, yeah. They’re just wrestling,” Takeru said dismissively. “Uncle Tooru and Iwaizumi-san do that all the time when he comes over. That’s what they told me. Uncle Tooru yells a lot too because he’s a loser and Iwaizumi-san kicks his butt.”
“Oh, then Koushi must be getting his ass handed to him,” Kaoru laughed, and the two of them moved on with their gameplay.
In a way, he was right.
* * *
“So, we’ve still got that paper to write on macrobiology,” Suga mentioned, now joining Daichi in staring at the ceiling. Daichi’s eyes traveled to Suga’s skirt, which was still riding up his waist and teasing him with a generous portion of flushed skin. He swallowed thickly.
“Yeah,” Daichi breathed (he was doomed). “Macrobiology.”
“You wanna shower, first?” Suga raised an eyebrow. “We’re both pretty— well, sticky.”
“Only if you put the skirt back on when you get out,” Daichi insisted. It was unreasonable, but Daichi never wanted to see Suga in anything other than a skirt ever again.
“Fine,” Suga agreed, much to his surprise, “but I’m changing into a t-shirt. The sweater’s cute and all but it’s itchy.”
The two of them hopped into the shower together — well, more like Daichi half-carried Suga, whose legs were still shaking. Once they made it inside, Suga leaned Daichi gently back against the cold tile and fluttered his lips all around his neck while the warm water poured onto his back. Daichi took his sweet time feeling every inch of Suga, sliding his hands over his shoulders, down his arms, moving them back up to his chest, dragging them down his sides to his hips, over the curves of his ass, and finally to knead at his thighs. Suga hummed contentedly, fisting a hand into Daichi’s dark hair. Daichi felt slightly dazed, as if this weren’t real. He wouldn’t be surprised. There was no way Suga could be this perfect. Daichi couldn’t believe he hadn’t fallen for him sooner.
Most guys, Daichi could describe as handsome or muscular, good-looking, etc. But Suga was pretty — so undeniably pretty, with his big brown eyes framed by long lashes, his soft pink lips and that little, adorable mark by his eye that Daichi had dreamed of kissing and now kissed frequently. His silvery hair was silky and soft, his skin smooth no matter where he touched. Daichi had valued a lot of traits in his romantic interests, so he wasn’t exactly sure why he hadn’t seen sooner that all of them ultimately amounted to Koushi Sugawara.
Eventually, they had to actually shower, taking turns washing each other’s hair and occasionally splashing each other with the droplets of water. When they eventually turned the water off, Daichi turned the tables, picking Suga up and supporting him with his hands on his thighs. Suga’s legs wrapped around him as if on instinct, and Daichi turned to press him against the wall this time, trailing sweet kisses down Suga’s neck and enjoying the feeling of Suga’s bare skin against his. He smelled like vanilla and sugar cookies, and Daichi figured it must be his shampoo, because it was especially prominent in the shower. He kissed away a few droplets of water that were running down Suga’s face from the shower before proceeding to get a taste of his lips. Suga practically melted into him, letting out a pleasant hum that made Daichi’s insides thrum with satisfaction. Already, Daichi wanted to fuck him again.
“After we get that paper done,” Suga interrupted with a teasing smile, and it astounded Daichi how easily Suga could read his mind. He made an amused sort of noise as he buried his head into the crook of Daichi’s neck, soft lips pressing sweetly to his skin. “After all, that’s the reason you came over in the first place.”
“Yeah yeah, whatever,” Daichi sighed. He removed a hand from Suga to push open the door of the shower before he put it back on Suga’s thigh. He bemusedly thought to himself how spoiled Suga must be to be carried from the shower, and Daichi was happy to spoil him. He set Suga on the counter to look for his clothes, but realized he neglected to bring them in. He was far too excited at the prospect of showering with the silver-haired boy beside him.
“I left my clothes outside,” he told him. “Just come out when you’re ready, okay?”
“Sure,” Suga smiled, and Daichi detected only a hint of deviousness that the average person would miss. He decided not to think too hard about it — Suga was always up to something — and chose instead to simply change back into his clothes.
He put his boxers and shorts back on, followed by his shirt, and toweled off his hair with the one he’d brought with him from the bathroom. Suga returned soon after, closing the door behind him, and Daichi appreciated just how cute he was with his tousled damp hair and the white shirt he wore slightly sticking to his skin with excess moisture. He really should have figured out he liked boys sooner. Suga shot him another smile — now devoid of all fiendishness — and walked over to the corner to the pile of school supplied by his bag.
Suga daintily bent over to pick up a notebook from a stack of them on the floor, and Daichi slapped a hand over his burning face so he wouldn’t gasp.
Suga wasn’t wearing underwear.
It wasn’t an issue in the slightest, and Daichi surely wasn’t complaining, but he was certainly taken by surprise with the entire fullness of Suga’s ass and his gorgeous, obscenely perfect thighs. Daichi had had a thing for Suga’s thighs for a while now. They were so pillowy and now he knew just how soft and lush they were to touch. He could touch them all day, if Suga would let him, and he’d get to listen to Suga moan all pretty and gasp his name like he had earlier. Daichi shuddered at the thought.
Suga was smirking at him, as if he’d been able to read all of his thoughts. Daichi gulped.
“N-no,” he cursed himself for his inability to speak. “You’re just— you’re not wearing— I—”
Suga pouted, his bottom lip poking out in a way that felt illegal to watch.
“Daichi, sweetheart,” he moved closer, walking the way he had earlier with his thighs brushing together, squeezing when he came to a stand still just a few inches away from Daichi. “What did I tell you earlier about finishing your sentences?”
While staring into Suga’s innocent, brown eyes, then as his gaze drifted to yellow fabric around his hips, he didn’t think he could form an intelligent sentence if he tried. Daichi really should have known Suga liked to tease. Not that he minded, of course, but he could already feel himself getting hard again and that was a serious issue. How the hell was he supposed to focus on his paper knowing Suga wasn’t wearing anything under that damn skirt?
“Hello? Anybody home?” Suga waved teasingly in front of his face. “You’re not the one who just had their brains fucked out.”
And holy shit, when did he learn to talk like that?
“You’re too perfect,” Daichi ended up saying. “It’s not fair.”
Suga blushed, clearly not expecting that answer. He closed the distance between them with a sweet, gentle kiss, pressing his chest against Daichi’s. He wrapped his arms around Daichi’s neck, letting his hand hang off the back, while Daichi placed his hands on Suga’s waist. When they pulled apart after a few moments, Suga was smiling up at him, their noses just inches away.
“I’ve been thinking the same thing about you, Daichi,” his smile widened, and Daichi could practically feel himself melt into the floor. Was this what love felt like? He’d never felt this way about anybody before. Despite having had crushes before, ever since he’d met Suga he’d always preferred to be with him over everybody else. Suga was just so alluring and fun and kind all at the same time, and he met all of Daichi’s requirements. Caring, honest, sweet, funny, beautiful, nice thighs (a recent addition), silver hair (an even more recent addition) and a name that was Koushi Sugawara (the most recent addition). Being around Suga made Daichi feel just so much more alive. He thought he might want to be around Suga forever, but that wasn’t something he wanted to bring up quite yet.
Holy shit. They’d just had sex and neither of them had even asked the question.
“Koushi,” he said, his voice soft. “Would you like to be my boyfriend?”
Suga went a pretty pink at the use of his first name, but his eyes lit up as he nodded enthusiastically.
“I’d be honored, Daichi,” he planted another kiss on Daichi’s lips.
Daichi smiled. Boyfriend. He liked the way it sounded, and especially the way it felt when he associated it with Suga, his boyfriend. Today surely could not get any better (it did).
Suga had a seat at his desk, and Daichi pulled over another chair to sit beside him. Begrudgingly, he pulled out his work, picking up a pencil from the holder on Suga’s desk. His eyes strayed to his now boyfriend as he stared down at his paper thoughtfully, biting the edge of his pencil. He watched as Suga’s hips rolled around as he shifted in his seat, and Daichi vaguely noted that he’d never wanted to be a chair so badly.
“Eyes on your paper, Sawamura.”
Suga was smirking at him again, his voice mocking the authority of a teacher, and Daichi felt his heart go still while a jolt of electricity shot downward and fuck — he was hard again. He decided not to give this away any more than his blushing face already had, and rolled his eyes with a rueful grin.
“You make it hard, Suga,” he replied. Damn accidental innuendo. So much for not giving it away.
It had the desired effect, though, because Suga went pink and his smirk slowly slid into a bashful smile. They set about their work in a comfortable silence. Daichi was able to fight himself through the first few sentences, but the thoughts about Suga that flashed through his mind began to get more and more frequent, until that suddenly became all he could think about and the tent in his pants was growing larger. This was going to be a long night, he could already tell. However, as a plan began to form in his head, he decided he could amend this.
Daichi let the pencil he was holding fall to the floor from his fingers, landing and rolling beneath the desk. He gave a convincingly exasperated sigh as Suga chuckled beside him, the sound of his laughter filling Suga with warmth. Daichi pushed back in his chair. Suga paid him no mind, completely unsuspecting, and continuing to scribble out a few more sentences on his paper. Daichi hid his smirk. He crawled beneath the desk, taking position by sitting on his legs, and pressing his lips softly to Suga’s thigh.
He relished in the way Suga gasped above him.
“D-Daichi!” He breathed.
He didn’t answer at first, instead making an effort to leave as many marks on the vast expanse of his boyfriend’s thighs as he could. He wanted to make entire constellations, and set himself to doing so. He could hear Suga gasp and whimper above him, pressing his lips together so as not to be too loud.
“Don’t act so surprised after you tease me like that,” Daichi drew up a finger from Suga’s knee to his hip on one thigh while he kissed a similar line up the other. Suga was shaking in his chair. He grinned at the way Suga’s pencil clattered to the desk, at the way he groaned Daichi’s name in half-annoyance, half-pleasure.
“Daichi,” his hand took residence in Daichi’s hair as he released a shaky laugh. “You’re terrible.”
“I’d rather do you than that stupid macrobiology paper,” Daichi replied. He experimentally licked a stripe down the side of Suga’s half-hard member, and Suga moaned. Daichi was immensely pleased as he felt Suga’s godly thighs wrap around his body, pulling him closer. His feet crossed at the ankles behind Daichi’s back.
“I’ll take that as invitation to continue?” Daichi smirked.
Suga’s thighs squeezed at his sides. “By all means.”
It occurred to Daichi that he’d never given head before, but he recalled all the things Suga had done that had made him feel so good. He just had to figure out what buttons to press — which spots to linger on that would drive him crazy. He already figured out one; his thighs, which Daichi traced small circles over while he kissed his way up and down Suga’s length. After repeating that a few times and noticing the way Suga was now hard, he took the head of his cock in his mouth and swirled his tongue around the tip, already tasting the salty, bitter liquid coming from it. Suga removed a hand from Daichi’s hair to place over his mouth while he muffled a moan. Ah, so he liked that a lot.
Daichi gradually took more of him into his mouth sweeping his tongue on the underside of Suga’s length. He then hollowed out his cheeks, now actively sucking, and he was rewarded with a muffled “ah!” from his boyfriend. He did it again, pushing himself deeper, trying to get used to the feeling of having Suga in his mouth. He began to knead at Suga’s thighs again with his hand, repositioning them to make sure not an inch of them was neglected. He pulled back slightly on Suga’s length to swirl his tongue again, bobbing his head as he moved forward and backward. By the sounds Suga was making into his hand, he was sure he was doing it right.
He gripped the base of Suga’s cock and started to stroke while he sucked, and felt Suga’s thighs squeeze him tighter as Suga leaned forward onto the desk, now panting. His paper was long forgotten, Daichi was sure. Daichi was getting off to the sounds Suga was making and the feeling of his thighs pressed so tightly to his body. His cock ached for attention, and so he moved the hand at the base of Suga’s cock to his own, using the other to alternate between rubbing Suga’s thighs and stroking his length while Daichi’s mouth continued to work wonders. He was already dripping into his boxers, and when he brushed his thumb against the tip of his aching member the pleasure was intense and immediate. He hummed around Suga’s dick, sending the vibrations up his cock. Daichi began to stroke himself slowly, making a noise every so often just to hear Suga make one in return. He was close, he could feel it, and by the erratic shaking Suga was experiencing, Daichi could tell he was close too, even before he said it.
“Ah! D-Daichi, I’m gonna—”
He popped off with a smirk, watching with amusement as Suga thrusted his hips forward into thin air, his cock covered in Daichi’s spit and a trail of precum. Taking his hand (although regretfully) off of his cock, he grabbed each of Suga’s wrists and held them against the bottom of the desk.
Daichi’s whole body shuddered at the way Suga whimpered, needy and sinful.
“Daichi,” he cried, sounding almost like he was sobbing. “I’m so close.”
“Nope. Macrobiology paper, remember?” Daichi hoped the smirk was purveyed through his voice. “Have fun finishing your work, Suga.”
The other boy groaned. “I can’t finish my work if you don’t let me finish, Daichi.”
“Beg for it.”
He expected some sort of witty retort, or flustered remark, but it seemed Suga was more than prepared for this situation. His breaths came in short bursts, sending heat throughout Daichi’s body.
“Please, Daichi,” Suga whined, and Daichi’s face went red at the need in his voice. “Please let me come. I’ll be so good for you, I promise! I’m all yours. Just please, let me come.” He gasped. “Touch me, please, Daichi.”
His dick twitched, betraying him, because Suga’s voice was just so cute when he begged like that. Daichi gave in. He had to. He blew on the tip of it, just to hear Suga inhale sharply, before taking Suga’s cock between his lips again. His hand resumed stroking himself in time with when he stroked the base of Suga’s cock. It only took a few seconds for the both of them to completely spill over, Suga’s come sliding down his throat and Daichi’s making a mess of his shirt. Suga was crying Daichi’s name into the table, his head resting on his forearm, and Daichi moaned his into his hand. When each of their climaxes had come to a close, they were panting heavily once again. Eventually, Suga found the strength in him to stand, because he pushed his chair back to join Daichi on the ground and press a sweet kiss to his lips.
“Thank you,” he breathed. “That was amazing.”
“I leaned from the best,” Daichi winked, cupping his face and rubbing over the softness of his cheek with his thumb. Suga smiled, blushing.
“You know what? I think we’re both done with homework tonight,” Suga murmured, burying his face into Daichi’s shoulder. “Let’s change your shirt, and then we can cuddle, okay?”
“That sounds great,” Daichi agreed.
He ended up borrowing one of Suga’s larger t-shirts, which was actually one he’d left at Suga’s and forgotten about — Suga hadn’t brought it up, so he must of forgotten too (that’s what he said, but Daichi knew his best-friend-now-boyfriend well enough to know he just kept it because it was Daichi’s. He didn’t bring it up, for Suga’s sake, but he thought it was cute). Their half-finished papers laid on the desk, but neither of them cared. Instead, they settled together on Suga’s bed.
This time, Daichi had his arms around Suga, feeling Suga’s own heartbeat against his chest and smiling contentedly to himself. The bedsheets smelled so blissfully like Suga that he felt he could drown.
“Thank you for today,” he murmured into Suga’s silver hair. “You’re amazing, Koushi. You know that, right?”
He could feel Suga smile against his neck.
“You’re not all that bad yourself, captain,” Suga teased, kissing his jawline softly. “Thank you, for everything. God, you don’t know how scared I was when you walked in. I thought you’d never talk to me again.”
Daichi chuckled. “Quite the opposite, actually. I legitimately thought I was dreaming — you were dressed so cute. Now, as your boyfriend, I have an excuse to spend all my time with you, so I guess you’re stuck with me.”
Suga laughed softly, his eyelashes fluttering shut. “I guess I am.”
“Should I spend the night?” Daichi asked, already knowing the answer.
Suga hummed an affirmative. “Yes, please.”
Daichi felt like he was made of whatever sort of happiness gave light to sunshine. He was floating on something ethereal — something that was probably called love. He wrapped his arms further around Suga, effectively squeezing him into a hug momentarily before releasing him. Suga paid no mind to this, instead kissing him sweetly in response before resettling in the crook of his neck.
God, how could this get any better?
* * *
“So who’s the lucky girl, Sawamura?”
Across the locker room, Tanaka was pointing at the scratch marks on his back, courtesy of Suga himself from the previous night. The second-year’s eyes were as big as dinner plates, practically bulging out of their sockets. Asahi was covering Hinata’s eyes and shoving him out of the locker room, sending a shrewd but congratulatory look Suga’s way.
Well, that didn’t take long.
Luckily, Daichi had them distracted enough that Suga could slip on his practice shorts without any questions about the hickeys down there. However, just as he thought he was safe, a finger tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see Yamaguchi, which wouldn’t have been a cause for alarm, if it wasn’t for the uncharacteristically devious look in his eye.
“It was you, wasn’t it?” He was grinning, as if he already knew. “Tsukki owes me 2000 yen, if that influences your answer.”
Suga was tempted, but he didn’t want to out Daichi to the rest of the team. That is, until he felt a familiar arm slide over his shoulder. Suga looked in surprise to see Daichi grinning secretively.
“It’s okay, you’re allowed to know,” he patted Yamaguchi on the head, who lit up with excitement. “You and Tsukishima both, though I have a feeling you did already.”
This was confirmed with an enthusiastic nod from the first-year.
Daichi chuckled. “I wanna see how long it takes everybody else to figure out, so keep it a secret for now, okay?”
Yamaguchi’s lips tilted into a smirk as he gave Daichi a two fingered salute, zipping his lips, and then jogging over to Tsukishima. The blonde leaned down as Yamaguchi whispered something in his ear, and he rolled his eyes, frowning at Suga and Daichi as if to say, “seriously?” Suga laughed under his hand, turning to Daichi with a grin on his face.
“You’re okay with people knowing?” He asked. Daichi nodded.
“Of course,” he smiled. “I don’t care what anybody has to say, as long as I have you. And I know that the people that matter will support us,” he nodded to the team, which was going through warm ups. He squeezed Suga’s shoulder gently, and Suga felt warmth flood through him.
“Oi! You two gonna warm up or what?” Asahi was jogging over to them, looking slightly miffed. When he reached them, he dropped his voice. “I just distracted Tanaka with thinking about the new ramen place that just opened up, but I swear, you two,” he pointed at them frustratedly, “the amount of times you’ve vented to me about each other. It’s about damn time, I’m telling you!”
They turned to stare at one another.
“You vented to Asahi about me?” Suga asked, awed.
“You vented to Asahi about me?!” Daichi repeated.
Then, so in sync it was as if they were part of the same person, they turned to Asahi.
“Why didn’t you tell me?!” They asked in unison.
Asahi pressed a hand to his forehead.
“You both told me not to!” He reminded them. “Like I said, took you long enough!”
From the corner of his eye, Suga noticed Kiyoko approaching them. As she brushed by, she patted Suga on the back.
“Nice work,” she said, her face completely devoid of incriminating emotion, besides the small smirk that tugged at her lips. Suga went red, fumbling for words but finding none. Daichi was rendered equally speechless.
“H-how did she—”
Asahi gestured to his own collar, and immediately the two of them blanched. The hickeys were just about impossible to hide, despite being somewhat covered by the collars of their shirts. Well, Hinata and Kageyama were about as observant as a pair of bricks when it came to anything but volleyball. Tanaka and Nishinoya were certainly more to worry about, but they were currently giving their daily dose of flattery to Kiyoko. Suga had a feeling Ennoshita, Narita, and Kinoshita would figure it out all around the same time, probably sometime before the other four fools.
For now, it was a waiting game.
Around dinner time, Suga got a text from his second-favorite captain.
i heard you finally got
your back blown out
should i bake you and
sawamura a congratulatory cake?
you can’t even make oatmeal
without setting the house on fire
i don’t need to
that’s what iwa-chan
don’t make iwaizumi do your
im making a cake, not
committing a murder
you might as well be, with
the record time you’ll set
your house on fire
takeru will be devastated that
his console will go up in
flames and he’ll hate you forever.
how’d you even find out,
he said kaoru heard the
two of you “wrestling” in the
is that what you tell takeru
when iwaizumi comes over?
what else am i supposed
to tell him????
thank you, finally.
now im making that cake.
ill drop it by sometime this
what should i write on it?
i hate you.
you don’t mean that, kou-chan
“Who’re you texting?” Daichi asked. He’d come home with him after practice, the two of them sitting alone at the kitchen table and munching on the shoyu ramen the two of them had made as a joint effort. It was Daichi’s favorite, and it was pretty close to the top of Suga’s list too.
“Oikawa,” he replied, amusedly. “He wants to make us a cake congratulating us on getting together.”
Daichi seemed surprised.
“That’s thoughtful,” he said.
“He’s going to write ‘just fucked’ in disgustingly pink icing,” Suga replied, watching as Daichi’s cheeks went red. He chuckled. “Very considerate of him, isn’t it?”
“Can’t say I’m surprised.”
Suga reached for his hand across the table, and Daichi took it in his, their elbowed bent on the table and their wrists against each other. Suga admired the features of Daichi’s face as he began to finally take in that this boy was his. Even if only just for the time being, though he hoped for forever. His to kiss, to hold, to touch, to comfort, to care for and love unconditionally. Daichi was his, and he was Daichi’s. They’d always come in a pair, ever since they’d met. It only made sense.
Kaoru stumbled into the kitchen, making a disgusted face at the two of them before grabbing a bowl of ramen they had set out for him and proceeding back up the stairs to his room. Suga would have teased him about his manners, but he looked disgruntled enough as it was, so he let his brother be.
* * *
god, save me takeru.
they’re holding hands and
making faces at each other
across the table.
they must be arm wrestling!
or having a staring contest!
you’re probably right
you’re so smart, takeru.
wanna play minecraft?
i’ll be on in a bit.
uncle tooru is trying to make
a cake but he’s kind of helpless.
i don’t think he knows the
difference between a teaspoon
and a tablespoon.
iwaizumi-san is trying to help,
and so am i.
last time he tried to bake
he forgot the oven was on
and if i wasn’t home then
the house would have caught
the cookies he was trying to
make were burnt, though.
i wonder what this cake is for
good luck with that, it
sounds crazy over there.
save me a slice, if it ends
up coming out okay.
he says it’s for your brother
anyway, so i won’t have to
worry about that.
it’s not his birthday or anything,
he won’t tell me what it’s
for, just that it’s important
who cares as long as
i get cake.
that’s a good mentality
don’t worry, i’ll sneak some
over for you.
* *about 5 hours later* *
YOU WILL NEVER GUESS
WHAT’S ON THE CAKE