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It's well past midnight when Sachirou's phone lights up, and somehow, even before he checks, he knows who's messaging him.
Sachirou thinks about what he wants to say next. This is... more serious than Kourai usually allows himself to be, and that deserves something in return.
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It's less than a week later before he gets another text in the middle of the night.
It takes a while for him to respond, typing and backspacing and chewing on his lip. He hopes Kourai's watching him type, hopes he knows his best friend is just... working on it.
He doesn't get a response in return, though, for long enough that it's actually worrying.
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This time, Sachirou's the one reaching out, when the darkness presses in on all sides and he has to do... something.
Now he's sad and guilty.
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Sachirou shifts to glance over his shoulder. Kourai's facing away, one leg under the blankets and one on top as always, and his shoulders hunch over the glow of his phone screen. He looks... small, in a way that makes Sachirou's heart ache.
"Kourai..."
Instead of a response, he gets another text.
Sachirou huffs a laugh and moves, rolling over until he can tuck his knees under Kourai's butt and put his face in his hair. He has just enough room to type back.
He can feel Kourai laugh through his chest, can hear the catch of his breath and the way he moves his feet, legs always restless.
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Sachirou lets out a laugh. Out loud and everything. He lo—
Oh.
He loves Kourai? Well. That explains a lot.
He loves him. It's an easy thought to have, easier than he might have expected. It's just the truth, after all.
Sachirou laughs hard enough that his roommate almost wakes up.
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Sachirou stares, in shock. He'd managed to unlock his phone just in time to read it all, before Kourai deleted it.
Fuck. Fuck.
What was he supposed to do now?
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It's not, technically, wrong. That message sure was weird all right.
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They're losing.
They lost the first set, and the second set isn't looking much better. It doesn't help that the other side features Sakusa Fucking Kiyoomi, if Kourai had known that he would have. He would have.
Okay he wouldn't have done anything different but mentally he'd have been prepared!
It's a kind of 'first-and-second-years-only' type of thing, to try out their newer talent and see how it fits together. So Kourai's got Ushijima and some other randos, while Waseda has… Sakusa. And a lanky middle blocker with bad hair that looks vaguely familiar. And probably the best fuckin' libero of their generation, if that strawberry-blond in the back is who he thinks it is.
But they're the pro team! They should not be losing to a bunch of college kids who have school in the morning. That made no sense at all.
Not for the first time, Kourai wishes Sachirou was here. Standing next to him at the net, being able to rely on his perfect defense and flawless reaction time… yeah, he'd gotten spoiled all right.
I mean, Fukurou was a pretty close second, but. Fukurou wasn't here! It was one of the new guys who wasn't doing very well, and uh… shit… what's his… Takuto? Tatsuto! Yeah. Something Tatsuto. He was all right.
Kourai braces his hands on his thighs and pants for breath. If he's being honest… it's not that Sacchan was any better than either of these guys. No worse, but. Probably not better.
It's just… when he's around, Kourai feels. Invincible.
"Hey. Chibi-chan." The middle blocker with the hair is gesturing at him, pulling him close to the net. Scowling, Kourai goes, making it very clear how much he is hating this.
Kuroo-senshu—that's his name—leans close. "You've got a fan, you know."
The scowl only deepens. "What's that supposed to mean? Huh?"
Kuroo points, past the net. Over his shoulder.
Kourai turns. Oh, he's expecting this to be nothing more than a prank. Fully, one hundred percent ready to get laughed at, by his own teammates if nothing else, but.
There's a face in the stands that shouldn't be there. (Well, a fuzzy blob, but he'd know that fuzzy blob anywhere.) It's a face Kourai knows better than his own, a face he's been missing like crazy every damn second. They saw each other last week. There's no reason for this, his heart shouldn't be pounding at the thought of getting to see him again so soon.
He takes two steps back toward the stands before he can stop himself. The fuzzy blob he knows is his best friend moves, lifts a hand up probably, and Kourai can feel a flush rising in his cheeks. God. Just kill him now.
Something Tatsuto taps him on the shoulder, grabs his attention back. "We're back on, Hoshiumi."
Right! Right. He's here to play fucking volleyball, not have a gay crisis or whatever they're calling it these days. He could sort the rest out later.
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There's no response to that. Sachirou hides a smile, and watches from a distance as his brother talks with the team. Kourai's there, of course, glancing around a few times, but even with his sunglasses on he probably can't see Sachirou at all in the bright sunlight.
"All right, that's it. On the bus, get home. Not you," and Fukurou catches Kourai by the back of the t-shirt. "You're coming with us."
He throws himself into Sachirou's arms when he can finally get close enough; Sachirou tries not to be too giddy about it. They tumble into the middle seat of Fukurou's mom van, legs colliding and Kourai almost crawling into his lap with pure eagerness.
"Okay, not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but what gives? What's going on?"
Sachirou shrugs. "My class tomorrow got canceled, so… I have two days free in row for once. I wanted to come see you."
"You… you know I'm in a dorm, right? And my roommate isn't gone all the time."
Fukurou adjusts the mirror so he can glance at them. "Actually… that's what I wanted to talk to you about, Kourai. I was hoping you and Sachi-kun could watch my apartment and take care of Koutarou overnight."
"He's got a date," Sachirou says dryly.
"Oh, god." Kourai wrinkles his nose, appropriately horrified.
"Yeah." His fingers curl a little, flexing where they rest on Kourai's side, pinned in place for the ride. He just… scoots even closer.
Fukurou sighs dramatically. "Hey, we can't all meet our soulmates in middle school. A guy's gotta get out there if he wants to find love."
Both Sachirou and Kourai make identical gagging noises.
"Yeah, yeah, we'll watch the dog," Kourai drawls. "You better not come home early and make us comfort you if it goes bad."
"It's not—oh my god." Fukurou shakes his head. "It'll be fine. It's not our first date, we already had this sleepover planned."
Sachirou watches as Kourai pulls his phone back out.
He bites his lip against a grin. He can't reach his own phone like this, so he just leans in and puts his lips to Kourai's ear, responding in a low murmur. "Maybe she's into it."
"Ew! Sacchan!!" Kourai shoves at him, squawking, and in the front seat Fukurou sighs the sigh of the long-suffering.
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"Just don't make me have to disinfect my house," Fukurou mutters as he finally starts heading out.
"What's that supposed to mean??" Kourai calls, loud and quizzical.
Sachirou has a good idea of what it means, and it makes the tips of his ears burn. Whatever their families have been saying all this time, they are not dating, and he… well, he might be in love with Kourai but he doesn't think he's ready for anything… unsanitary.
"No, I'm serious! Fuku-nii get back here what the fuck does that mean!!"
The door closes shut behind him without an answer.
"Ugh." Kourai flops back down on the couch. "Grown-ups are so weird."
Sachirou gently sits at the edge of the couch that Kourai is so joyfully claiming the entirety of. "You know," he murmurs, reaching up to pet a hand through his friend's thick, wiry hair, "you're an adult now. You've been an adult for… more than a year now."
"Bullshit. Nineteen is a teenager, everyone knows that." He makes to pull his hand away, but Kourai's shoots out and grabs him by the wrist. "Hey. Don't stop."
The wave of fondness threatens to bowl him right over. "All right, I'm sure you'll magically attain adulthood in ten months."
Kourai cracks an eye open, glaring balefully up at him. "I get the feeling you're making fun of me."
"A little." Sachirou keeps petting. "Mostly because I love you."
His hand freezes. That... was not what he meant to say. That was not when he meant to say it, not at all—he had a plan, okay? And then he had to ruin it by opening his big mouth and—
Kourai yawns. "Yeah, yeah, love you too. I guess it's fine."
Sachirou can still feel his heart thundering away in his chest. Crisis... averted? His fingers shake as he curls them back into Kourai's hair. "Do you... um. Are you hungry? I can order something for dinner, or we can go out..."
Kourai shakes his head. "Order. Please. Too many fucking lights out there."
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Fukurou has a guest room. Theoretically, they don't need to share a bed.
But it's not like that's ever stopped them, or ever would. They pull out a futon and make themselves comfy on it, Kourai's head pillowed right on Sachirou's chest. He can see his screen perfectly well, as he checks Twitter and likes a few things and gets distracted by JVA articles. The lights are off, and Sachirou's starting to let his eyes close when his phone buzzes in his hand.
He suddenly feels entirely, incredibly awake.
Kourai doesn't turn, doesn't move. Doesn't make any indication that he's sent anything, except their message window is still open on his screen and his thumb taps the empty text box with a nervous energy.
He can feel the tension in Kourai's body, now, the little hissed intake of breath as the word goes through. He's... anxious, Sachirou thinks. But in what way? Because he doesn't know how to let you down, or...
...Or because he's happy? Because he can hardly believe it, either?
Sachirou sighs. He curls an arm around Kourai's waist, ignoring the coiled spring of his muscles to hold him anyway. To show him, what it means.
Kourai chews on his lip as he reads the message over, once, twice. He takes his time tapping out his response.
Sachirou feels... a little light-headed, to be honest. It's not that they're moving fast—Fukurou's right, they've been together since middle school in every way that matters. This is just... icing, on a perfectly good cake.
When that comes in, Kourai lets out a huff of air. "You're such a jerk," he hisses, and Sachirou takes that as his cue to lean in and bury his face in the crook of Kourai's neck, kissing the soft skin there for the briefest moment. It makes Kourai twitch and slap at him, but he's not letting go now. Not when he finally, finally has him.
"I want to hear you say it," Sachirou murmurs, as he trails more little kisses up Kourai's neck. His captive yelps and his ears are furiously red but he's not actually trying to get away.
"No way! That's embarrassing!"
"Since when have you been embarrassed of anything?"
"Since you, okay?? Since it was someone that matters!!"
Oh. Sachirou's heart does a backflip into a sit spin of pure joy. Oh.
His arms loosen, letting Kourai roll over, finally looking him in the eye. He was so used to thinking of Kourai as fearless, as this brave bird who never felt shame or loneliness or doubt, but.
After midnight, he's been showing him. Kourai has insecurities, too. He's as human as any of them.
He touches the little bow-curve of his lip, right where it splits in the winter and Kourai never has chapstick so Sachirou always lends it to him and he can only wonder if he tastes—
He has, maybe, been thinking about this a lot longer than he realized.
"…Sacchan," Kourai murmurs, his pink lips brushing soft against Sachirou's callused fingertips.
He swallows, dragging his eyes up by force. "Yeah?"
A look comes over Kourai's eyes. Smug and calculating, like he's got your number and he's coming for you. He parts those lips, nips at the edge of Sachirou's finger with his teeth, which sends his stomach swooping.
"Kiss me," he states, and Sachirou is helpless to resist him, as always.
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"I hate you," Kourai snaps by way of greeting. He's keeping his voice low, out of respect for his roommate, but Sachirou honestly doesn't care. He just needed to hear him.
"Sorry," he whispers, only for Kourai to hiss in his direction.
"You'd better be fucking sorry. Well? Do you want to be boyfriends or not?"
Sachirou sighs, a smile spreading over his face. "…I want to be boyfriends, Kou. I swear I do. I'm not just… it's the opposite, you know. I like you so much I'm afraid I'll scare you off."
He can hear a staticky noise, like something dragging over the speaker, then when Kourai's voice comes through it's close and quiet and… intimate, somehow.
"…You can't scare me, Sacchan. I'm not saying I'm not scared—I'm scared of a lot of things, but. Not you. Not anymore. There's too much to be anxious over out there, let's just… let's just agree that we can count on each other no matter what. Okay?"
Sachirou wonders if he pulled the blanket over his head. If they're having this conversation in a little world, all their own. If Kourai feels like it brings them closer.
"…Okay," he whispers. "Okay. I promise."
It's quiet between them for a long few minutes, and Sachirou's head feels blissfully clear, like an untouched lake in the early morning, before anything's awake to disturb it.
"...Kou?"
"Yeah?"
He licks his lips, and swallows. "...Say it again?"
Sachirou can hear it—the soft, fond exhale on Kourai's lips; and he knows, now, how those lips feel beneath his own.
"...Love you, Sacchan," Kourai whispers, and Sachirou feels it like a shiver down his spine.
"Love you too," he says, quiet and sure. "...Go to sleep, Kourai."
"Don't wanna."
"Kourai."
"I want to stay up all night with my boyfriend."
"...Oh my god."
He hears a soft little giggle, something snide and delighted at the same time. "Fine, Sacchan... I'll go to sleep if you will."
They're up for another hour, laughing into the night.
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