“Oh no oh no,” Asahi mutters to himself, rushing in an awkward run-skip-walk off the train platform. The sidewalk is crowded, and his mantra changes to a mumbled stream of “Excuse me, I’m trying to -- excu -- sorry -- sorry, excuse me --” as he shoves his way through the throng.
He’s late. He’s so very late. He’d told Suga he’d be by at five-thirty, six at the latest. It’s pushing eight, now, thanks to a minor emergency at work and a surprise meeting with his boss and a flirty secretary he couldn’t escape from, followed by not one but two breakdowns of public transit (his tax dollars at work, he thinks unkindly).
Finally, he makes it to Sugawara and Daichi’s apartment building, and presses the buzzer.
“Asahi? That you?”
“Yeah. Sorry I’m late.”
“I’d assume you’re breathless with excitement at the thought of seeing me, but you ran here, didn’t you?”
The tinny voice is disapproving, and Asahi winces. He automatically scratches at the back of his neck. The action dislodges what was left of his bun and his hair flops against his shoulders when the elastic gives up with a quiet snap, and he winces again.
Suga’s voice sighs loudly at him through the speaker. “You didn’t have to do that. Well, come on up, then, you big goof.”
Asahi doesn’t manage to reply before the door unlocks with a loud burr of sound, and the entry speakerphone hangs itself up.
Suga and Daichi live on the tenth floor, and Asahi spends the minute-long elevator ride fidgeting anxiously. He’s so, so late, and no matter what Suga says, he’s embarrassed. And frazzled, though, really, that’s been his default state for about a year and a half, now, since his girlfriend -- ex-girlfriend -- had up and left and he’d somehow thought that taking a new job in a new city would be a good idea.
Asahi can barely take care of a plant by himself, he still has no idea what he’s doing trying to care for a tiny human being.
Said tiny human screeches excitedly the minute Asahi enters the apartment, and leaps off of a chair in what is clearly an attempt to give Asahi a heart attack.
There’s a blur of orange and a fast-tempo patter of feet, and then Shouyou wraps himself bodily around Asahi’s leg. He tilts his head back to give Asahi a toothy grin. “Hiya Papa! Guess what we did today! First me’n’Suga-oji went to the park and we played bol… volleyball and it was like fwoosh and hwaaah an’ then I did a spike and it was like busheew an’ did you know Suga-oji is a setter, that means he throws the balls up for the, uh, for the spikers to smack down, and, and --”
“And you need to give your silly Papa a minute to catch his breath,” Suga breaks in, swooping in to give Asahi a kiss on the cheek and a jab to the ribs. Asahi yelps in surprise and Shouyou laughs at him. He doesn’t really mind; it’s Asahi’s favourite sound in the world. But he does lean over to swing Shouyou up into a hug.
“Papa, your hair is tickly,” Shouyou informs him, and Asahi retaliates by scratching his stubbly chin along Shouyou’s baby-smooth cheek. Shouyou shrieks and giggles and accidentally kicks Asahi in the stomach as he squirms. Asahi feels some of the tension fall out of his shoulders and he breathes in Shouyou’s comforting little-boy smell.
“Sounds like you had a good day,” he says. Suga watches from over Shouyou’s shoulder with the smirk that always makes Asahi feel… well, “warm and squirmy,” as Shouyou would put it.
“Yeah!”
“Did you at least let Suga-oji get any work done?” Asahi asks, struck with a sudden worry that doesn’t abate at all when Suga makes a dismissive noise and waves his hand. “Suga…”
“Don’t mind,” Suga insists. “Daichi’s working late this week, I have time to make it up.”
“Can I…”
“Asahi. If you try to offer me money again I am going to kick you in the face.”
Shouyou giggles. Traitor, Asahi thinks. But, he smiles and wonders fervently how he managed to be lucky enough to find friends like Suga and Daichi in the first place, and how much luckier he was to find them again, almost ten years out of high school.
Suga claps his hands. “Well. Shouyou and I have already had dinner --” Asahi feels another all-too-common twinge of guilt “-- so, Asahi. Drink?”
Shouyou wriggles again, his patience for the adults abruptly waning, so Asahi sets him down and waves his hands quickly. “Oh, no, I couldn’t --”
“Let me rephrase that. Asahi.” He grabs Asahi by the shoulders and pushes him into a chair, then pours two glasses of sake from the fridge. “Drink.”
Well. When put that way…
Shouyou is making an appropriate level of noise in the attached sitting area, enough that Asahi isn’t concerned over what he’s doing, but not loud enough to be disruptive, and Asahi watches as Suga regales him with tales of the day. He sips at his drink and contemplates buying a child-sized volleyball kit. That would be fun. He imagines taking Shouyou to volleyball practice and his heart flips.
Suga makes a cooing noise that breaks into Asahi’s thoughts and causes his entire face to turn red.
“Aww. You get the goopiest expressions when you look at him. I should have known you’d be the most embarrassing dad on the planet.”
“Hn,” Asahi says eloquently, sinking further into his chair.
Suga whacks him. “That was a compliment.”
“Your compliments are terrible.”
Shouyou yawns loudly, and he runs across the room to leap into Asahi’s lap and curl up like a kitten. He declares, “Papa, I’m tired now,” and tugs Asahi’s arm insistently for a hug.
Asahi automatically obliges, and looks up at the clock. His heart drops. “Oh no. It’s so late. I should…”
“Stay the night.”
Asahi blinks. “What?”
Suga gets up, taking the empty glasses back into the kitchenette and returning with a severe-looking stuffed anime character and a blanket. Shouyou reaches for the plushie with eager hands, and Suga tucks the blanket around the both of them.
“Oh. I thought we’d lost him,” Asahi says, looking somewhat apprehensively at the plushie. It has a very stern expression. It makes Asahi uncomfortable. Shouyou loves it, for some inexplicable reason.
“Nah, he’s been here since about Tuesday. Really,” Suga insists, when Asahi starts to stammer excuses, “we have a spare room, it’s past both of your bedtimes, and tomorrow’s Saturday.” He addresses the next part to Shouyou. “Whaddaya say, shrimpy? Sleepover?”
“Not shrimpy,” Shouyou mutters, and he bumps his head against Asahi’s jaw in sleepy, misdirected retaliation.
“That’s settled, then,” Suga says brightly, even though as far as Asahi can tell, nothing’s been settled at all. “I’ll make up the extra bed for Shouyou. You can choose which room you want to sleep in.” His voice drops to a purr, and he nips at Asahi’s neck as he goes by.
Asahi jumps and yelps. Shouyou mumbles a complaint. Suga laughs.
Asahi is still considering that when the front door opens and Daichi announces a tired but relieved, “I’m home.”
“Um,” Asahi says eloquently.
Suga pokes his head out from the bedroom. “Hey Daichi! The whole family’s here! We were just getting ready for bed.” The double-meaning to his words is quite clear and Asahi refuses to consider that in too much depth. At least not until Shouyou is asleep.
He also refuses to acknowledge the warm, comfortable feeling that comes from being referred to as the whole family, but, well. There will be plenty of time to think about that later. A whole lifetime.
FILL: TEAM KOZUME KENMA/KUROO TETSUROU, G
No tags
“Oh no oh no,” Asahi mutters to himself, rushing in an awkward run-skip-walk off the train platform. The sidewalk is crowded, and his mantra changes to a mumbled stream of “Excuse me, I’m trying to -- excu -- sorry -- sorry, excuse me --” as he shoves his way through the throng.
He’s late. He’s so very late. He’d told Suga he’d be by at five-thirty, six at the latest. It’s pushing eight, now, thanks to a minor emergency at work and a surprise meeting with his boss and a flirty secretary he couldn’t escape from, followed by not one but two breakdowns of public transit (his tax dollars at work, he thinks unkindly).
Finally, he makes it to Sugawara and Daichi’s apartment building, and presses the buzzer.
“Asahi? That you?”
“Yeah. Sorry I’m late.”
“I’d assume you’re breathless with excitement at the thought of seeing me, but you ran here, didn’t you?”
The tinny voice is disapproving, and Asahi winces. He automatically scratches at the back of his neck. The action dislodges what was left of his bun and his hair flops against his shoulders when the elastic gives up with a quiet snap, and he winces again.
Suga’s voice sighs loudly at him through the speaker. “You didn’t have to do that. Well, come on up, then, you big goof.”
Asahi doesn’t manage to reply before the door unlocks with a loud burr of sound, and the entry speakerphone hangs itself up.
Suga and Daichi live on the tenth floor, and Asahi spends the minute-long elevator ride fidgeting anxiously. He’s so, so late, and no matter what Suga says, he’s embarrassed. And frazzled, though, really, that’s been his default state for about a year and a half, now, since his girlfriend -- ex-girlfriend -- had up and left and he’d somehow thought that taking a new job in a new city would be a good idea.
Asahi can barely take care of a plant by himself, he still has no idea what he’s doing trying to care for a tiny human being.
Said tiny human screeches excitedly the minute Asahi enters the apartment, and leaps off of a chair in what is clearly an attempt to give Asahi a heart attack.
There’s a blur of orange and a fast-tempo patter of feet, and then Shouyou wraps himself bodily around Asahi’s leg. He tilts his head back to give Asahi a toothy grin. “Hiya Papa! Guess what we did today! First me’n’Suga-oji went to the park and we played bol… volleyball and it was like fwoosh and hwaaah an’ then I did a spike and it was like busheew an’ did you know Suga-oji is a setter, that means he throws the balls up for the, uh, for the spikers to smack down, and, and --”
“And you need to give your silly Papa a minute to catch his breath,” Suga breaks in, swooping in to give Asahi a kiss on the cheek and a jab to the ribs. Asahi yelps in surprise and Shouyou laughs at him. He doesn’t really mind; it’s Asahi’s favourite sound in the world. But he does lean over to swing Shouyou up into a hug.
“Papa, your hair is tickly,” Shouyou informs him, and Asahi retaliates by scratching his stubbly chin along Shouyou’s baby-smooth cheek. Shouyou shrieks and giggles and accidentally kicks Asahi in the stomach as he squirms. Asahi feels some of the tension fall out of his shoulders and he breathes in Shouyou’s comforting little-boy smell.
“Sounds like you had a good day,” he says. Suga watches from over Shouyou’s shoulder with the smirk that always makes Asahi feel… well, “warm and squirmy,” as Shouyou would put it.
“Yeah!”
“Did you at least let Suga-oji get any work done?” Asahi asks, struck with a sudden worry that doesn’t abate at all when Suga makes a dismissive noise and waves his hand. “Suga…”
“Don’t mind,” Suga insists. “Daichi’s working late this week, I have time to make it up.”
“Can I…”
“Asahi. If you try to offer me money again I am going to kick you in the face.”
Shouyou giggles. Traitor, Asahi thinks. But, he smiles and wonders fervently how he managed to be lucky enough to find friends like Suga and Daichi in the first place, and how much luckier he was to find them again, almost ten years out of high school.
Suga claps his hands. “Well. Shouyou and I have already had dinner --” Asahi feels another all-too-common twinge of guilt “-- so, Asahi. Drink?”
Shouyou wriggles again, his patience for the adults abruptly waning, so Asahi sets him down and waves his hands quickly. “Oh, no, I couldn’t --”
“Let me rephrase that. Asahi.” He grabs Asahi by the shoulders and pushes him into a chair, then pours two glasses of sake from the fridge. “Drink.”
Well. When put that way…
Shouyou is making an appropriate level of noise in the attached sitting area, enough that Asahi isn’t concerned over what he’s doing, but not loud enough to be disruptive, and Asahi watches as Suga regales him with tales of the day. He sips at his drink and contemplates buying a child-sized volleyball kit. That would be fun. He imagines taking Shouyou to volleyball practice and his heart flips.
Suga makes a cooing noise that breaks into Asahi’s thoughts and causes his entire face to turn red.
“Aww. You get the goopiest expressions when you look at him. I should have known you’d be the most embarrassing dad on the planet.”
“Hn,” Asahi says eloquently, sinking further into his chair.
Suga whacks him. “That was a compliment.”
“Your compliments are terrible.”
Shouyou yawns loudly, and he runs across the room to leap into Asahi’s lap and curl up like a kitten. He declares, “Papa, I’m tired now,” and tugs Asahi’s arm insistently for a hug.
Asahi automatically obliges, and looks up at the clock. His heart drops. “Oh no. It’s so late. I should…”
“Stay the night.”
Asahi blinks. “What?”
Suga gets up, taking the empty glasses back into the kitchenette and returning with a severe-looking stuffed anime character and a blanket. Shouyou reaches for the plushie with eager hands, and Suga tucks the blanket around the both of them.
“Oh. I thought we’d lost him,” Asahi says, looking somewhat apprehensively at the plushie. It has a very stern expression. It makes Asahi uncomfortable. Shouyou loves it, for some inexplicable reason.
“Nah, he’s been here since about Tuesday. Really,” Suga insists, when Asahi starts to stammer excuses, “we have a spare room, it’s past both of your bedtimes, and tomorrow’s Saturday.” He addresses the next part to Shouyou. “Whaddaya say, shrimpy? Sleepover?”
“Not shrimpy,” Shouyou mutters, and he bumps his head against Asahi’s jaw in sleepy, misdirected retaliation.
“That’s settled, then,” Suga says brightly, even though as far as Asahi can tell, nothing’s been settled at all. “I’ll make up the extra bed for Shouyou. You can choose which room you want to sleep in.” His voice drops to a purr, and he nips at Asahi’s neck as he goes by.
Asahi jumps and yelps. Shouyou mumbles a complaint. Suga laughs.
Asahi is still considering that when the front door opens and Daichi announces a tired but relieved, “I’m home.”
“Um,” Asahi says eloquently.
Suga pokes his head out from the bedroom. “Hey Daichi! The whole family’s here! We were just getting ready for bed.” The double-meaning to his words is quite clear and Asahi refuses to consider that in too much depth. At least not until Shouyou is asleep.
He also refuses to acknowledge the warm, comfortable feeling that comes from being referred to as the whole family, but, well. There will be plenty of time to think about that later. A whole lifetime.