Chapter Text
It was a good day in Tokyo.
Or, at least, as good as it could be on one of the coldest days October had seen that year, when outside the heavy rain clouds threatened to flood the city at the wrong sneeze and when the bitter wind threatened to lift you off the ground, Mary Poppins style.
Daichi had made his way over to the pet store at Ass in the Morning, having the privilege of working the opening shift for the rest of the week. With Takeda-sensei being out of town on whatever wildly inconvenient business trip he was on, Sawamura had been left in charge of the morning shift (granted, the sole reason he did that was because “as much as I trust Kuroo’s hands around animals, I sure as hell don’t want to catch him around the desk for more than 5 minutes at a time, and Ennoshita is busy enough during the afternoon shift with Hinata there”, or so he had said.)
Which is why our dear Sawamura Daichi could be found on that chilly morning, caffeine-deprived in a tiny pet store filled with various sounds: from parrots screeching whatever swear word they learned this week when Daichi stubbed his toe on the desk, to Kuroo yelling from the back that “THE BAG OF DOG TREATS JUST GOT TORN, DAICHI!” and the other critters wisely minding their own business.
Luckily for Kuroo - and for the wellbeing of the store and Daichi’s sanity - he had 3 appointments scheduled today, which left Daichi most times alone at the desk, helping children and their parents in picking a fluffy or scaley friend to take care of and cherish for whatever time they had, or helping the elderly with buying treats for their companions using - infuriatingly - nothing but spare change.
In all honesty though, Daichi loved his job. He had taken it on a whim when Kuroo mentioned it, after being fired from a popular fast-food restaurant whose name Will Not be mentioned, with the classic “that’s just business, kid. No hard feelings.” He came in for the interview, Takeda-sensei basically hiring him on the spot. Kuroo really wasn’t kidding when he said that the store was in need of help, with its decline in clients after a new, more mainstream pet store opened just over a year ago a few blocks away from them (Fuck Mainstream Stores Lives).
Maybe it was a bit cliché, but Sawamura had felt for a while now like something was missing from his life. Although, seemingly, he had everything he’d ever need from life: a somewhat stable job with good pay, a few close friends that he liked spending time with, a pretty normal life - excluding whatever bullshit Bokuto and Kuroo were getting themselves involved in at any given moment, with him and Kenma and Akaashi having to act as damage control.
And yet, something was… off, in a way.
Perhaps there was something he’d been neglecting for a while, but he didn’t really want to think about it.
By either some miracle or just plain bad luck, depending on how you looked at it, the store was pretty much empty, save from the animals waiting to be taken in by a loving person - read: another twat who’s barely able to keep a plant alive, but that has decided they Need a chihuahua to carry around in a purse for tinder dates and other inappropriate situations.
And you know what? It was early as All Fuck, he was tired and severely in need of caffeine. And, convenience had it that just a week or so ago a new coffee shop had opened its doors just across the street.
Daichi went in the back of the store where Kuroo was finishing his last check-up for the next hour or so.
“I’m going to get some coffee, you want some?” Dachi asked, knocking on the open door and drawing his friend’s attention.
“Yeah man, I’d fucking love some,” Kuroo answered gratefully, looking like he’d gotten a bit of spring in his step after hearing the word ‘coffee’. “Wait for me though, I’m almost done with this little guy and I’ll be right with you,” he added, taking the patient’s - an adorable puppy named Mittens, due to the white spots present on his paws and tail - face in his hands and carefully cleaning his eyes.
“Alright, I’ll be waiting at the desk, let me know when.” And with that, Daichi left the medical office and returned to his desk.
Fuck knows how many minutes had passed until Kuroo followed out the puppy and his owner with a small smile on his face, reassuring them that their tiny fuzzy friend was doing better and better by the day, and waving them off as they exited happily.
As soon as they’d left, Kuroo turned to Daichi with a glint in his eye. “So, I was promised coffee. Where are we headed, captain?”
Daichi would’ve normally winced at the nickname Kuroo gave him - he used to be the captain of the volleyball team back in high school, and the nickname just fit; that, and Kuroo was a Dickhead - but it was too early to be alive, therefore it was too early to give half a flying fuck.
“Just across the street; that new coffee shop just opened.”
Before he had the chance to finish his sentence, Daichi was already getting his coat and was handing Kuroo his, tucking himself in like he was going to die from whatever impersonation of a blizzard Mother Nature felt like sending their way. And honestly, who could blame him?
“Oh yeah, Kenma mentioned some sort of partnership between “Cat’s Nest” and this coffee shop.”
“Cat’s Nest” being the bookstore Kenma worked at, Daichi felt the slightest bit confused. He gave Kuroo a questioning look.
“What do you mean ‘partnership’?”
Kuroo shrugged. “Hell if I know, something about giving clients of the cafeteria the chance to read or buy a book while they get a coffee, I think. Thrilling stuff.” Sawamura hummed absently in response.
Leaving and locking the door behind them, they made their way to the coffee shop.
When they entered, the sweet smell of pastries and the strong aroma of fresh coffee filled their senses, the warmth of the place helping them warm up from the coldness of the wind from the other side of the door. As they made their way to the counter, they studied the place’s surroundings: pastel yellow walls with vintage posters hung on them - from whatever band that your dad used to like that broke up after whatever tiny misunderstanding they had at the time, to the political bullshit of the 1800 and what the town’s people had to say about the gay couple living in London who never seemed to age - to the counter’s window showing pastries, from golden croissants, to soft muffins and chocolate cookies, all beautifully arranged on the pink-stained glass.
Looking behind the counter, they both spotted the baristas: one of them tall, with his hair tied into a tight man bun and a small goatee on his chin, his apron sprinkled with what appeared to be powdered sugar - or, at least what Daichi hoped was powdered sugar, with his apron looking like a clean-up party gone wrong. The other…
Daichi’s breath mysteriously left his lungs. So mysteriously, in fact, that it came back just in time for him to choke on it.
“Whoa, you okay man?” Kuroo’s worried expression was enough to tell Sawamura that yes, he did in fact just choke on nothing after seeing… him.
The other barista was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. With ash-blond hair, clean face, tiny mole under his left eye and his apron, too, covered in hopefully-sugar, he was… Well, Daichi’s brain seemingly went on vacation, his vocabulary along with it, because he was hot.
He hurriedly tried to stand up straight (hah) and cleared his throat, with a slightly confused/concerned Kuroo next to him.
“Yeah. I’m uh. Fine?” He nonchalantly attempted to pass off whatever happened as normal as if choking on Fuck All after seeing probably the most gorgeous man he’s ever encountered was anything but the ordinary. Obviously, his friend wasn’t buying it.
“What in the ever-loving mother of Hell was that, Sawamura. What in the ever-loving mother of Fuck with Jesus on a pogo stick in the middle of summer was that.” It sounded less like a question and more like a demand. Daichi gestured as vaguely as possible and not even daring to look in the direction towards the counter.
Kuroo, slightly annoyed, looked in its direction and then raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Daichi emphasised. “‘Oh’ just about sums it up I’d say.”
At that, Kuroo started hyena-laughing like a bastard.
“So you’re trying to tell me that your brain fell out of your ass for two solid seconds because you saw the hot barista?! You really are something, Daichi.” He more howled ‘Hot barista’, prompting Daichi to shush him so they wouldn’t get kicked out. Or, god forbid, attract the attention of the hot barista in question.
“I fucking hate you.”
“You love me.” Kuroo straightened his back, grinning at his friend.
“You wish.” Daichi lightly shoved him with his elbow, smirking up at him. Kuroo pretended to be wounded for dramatic purposes then ruined the whole effect by shoving him back harder. “Now come on, we don’t have much left of our break. Let’s get you some coffee before your brain cells decide to go on another hiatus.”
Making their way to order, Daichi made a mental note to stare anywhere but at the gorgeous barista. His brain, however, didn’t get that memo, because as soon as his eyes averted to the vintage newspapers on the walls, they were right back at the barista. He’d be reading about the gay couple from earlier where one of them kept calling the other “angel”, but his eyes were always magnetically drawn back to the man in front of him.
Getting to the counter, the pretty barista finally seemed to take notice of them, as he dusted some sugar off his apron and cleared his throat. You know the bullshit cliché of pink sparkly backgrounds behind people you find attractive, angels singing and making you think that you just saw what looked and felt like heaven? Yeah, Daichi didn’t think it was that bullshit anymore.
The tag on his apron read “Suga”, and Daichi decided that that was now his favourite name of all time.
“Hi, what can I get you guys?” Daichi was pretty much hyper fixated on his tiny, polite smile and the way his eyes crinkled. ‘Well, shit.’
“Black coffee for me.” From somewhere on his right, he barely registered Kuroo’s voice.
“Name?” Grabbing a black marker, the barista - Suga - went to write Tetsurou’s name on a paper cup.
“Kuroo’s fine.”
“Alright. And for you?” He barely realised that Suga had turned to him, having one Hell of a Heavy Eye Contact moment. Daichi was positive that he forgot his name.
“Uh… a hot simple latte, please.” He mentally congratulated himself for not sounding like a complete moron. At least he had some dignity left.
“And your name…?”
“Uh. Daichi.” Yeah, no. Dignity was out the window, on a vacation in the Bahamas, enjoying a nice cocktail on the beach, not-being-an-idiot be damned.
The barista smiled softly as he wrote the name, narrowing his eyes. “Da-i-chi. Awesome. Anything else?” They thought about it for a moment; those cupcakes looked really good, but then decided against it. After paying, Suga pointed towards the end of the counter. “They’ll be here in just a bit then.”
“Thanks.” As he said that, Kuroo almost pushed Daichi to where their drinks would be waiting for them.
“Wow, you really are whipped huh.”
“Can you blame me?! Have you seen his eyes? His hair looks so soft? And that tiny mole under his eye? The stuff of fairy tale princes!” Daichi made sure they were out of Suga’s hearing range as he raised his voice to such a level that he almost sounded strangled, but his dignity was long gone, probably surfing and enjoying its existence away from Daichi. To be completely honest, there were a million things that mattered to him far more in that moment. Although, the way his name rolled off of Suga’s tongue like honey definitely made him feel Special Feelings.
Around a minute or so later, the drinks slid across the counter to them and Daichi’s head snapped up to see Suga’s smiling - and awfully attractive - face directed at them. ‘Terrible. Do it again.’
“Here they are! Enjoy them, guys.” He handed them their respective drinks and then, get this, winked. If Sawamura wasn’t a goner until then, he sure was now.
“I’m sure we will. See you.” Daichi smiled as he waved at him with whatever was left of his confidence, with Kuroo following close behind and saluting like a Moron. Suga waved them off, smiling even wider than before.
What Daichi didn’t know, was that on the bottom of his cup, written in black marker, a phone number sat, waiting to be noticed.
***
“Ugh, stupid keys.” Suga fiddled with the bent keychain where over the years he had accumulated so many useless keys (one from his parents’ apartment, one from that one time Oikawa found it while spring cleaning and asked Suga to “have it for safe-keeping”, one from the coffee shop, one from this apartment and about ten from Asahi’s place - as much as Suga loved his friend, Asahi’s keys disappeared so often he might have to open a case file on a mass key disappearance case). Making a mental note to sort it at some point (he would Not), he finally found the key to his apartment and shoved it in the lock.
Opening the door, he was greeted with smoke. A lot of smoke, and the loud blaring of the smoke alarm. ‘How the hell did I not hear that through the door?’
“Oikawa?” He coughed, trying in vain to waft the heavy fog away from him but only achieving the effect of looking like a bird flailing its wings that would’ve made any bystander crack up at the sight.
Through the dark clouds a figure came into view, holding what appeared vaguely to be a tray with the pair of neon orange kitchen gloves that Suga had gotten for them when he moved in (Oikawa had told him that they were hideous and they “ruined the kitchen’s aesthetic”, but Iwaizumi had said that he secretly really liked them, but that he wouldn’t let anyone know).
“Kou-chan, you’re home early!” Setting the tray down on the table, Oikawa hurried to open all of the windows he could get to and then trying - and failing - to look as casual as possible, leaning on the table next to what appeared to be a failed batch of… something. Something very charred, at that.
“What the fuck happened here.” Suga frowned at his friend, who was nervously shifting guiltily from one foot to the other.
“Uh… would you believe me if I said cupcakes?”
The two stared at each other like they were having the most Intense staring contest the world’s ever seen, with Suga glaring in a mixture of disapproval and sheer disbelief and Oikawa nonverbally trying to convince both Suga and himself that he didn’t just fuck up royally.
After what might as well have been forever, Suga blinked and pinched the bridge of his nose, faintly hearing Tooru mumbling “I won,” childishly in front of him.
“I’m too tired for this. Alright, I’m going to go take a nap, pretend none of this ever happened and let Iwaizumi deal with it when he gets home.” Then Suga turned on his heel, made a strong attempt at finding his room through the smoke clouds and upon finding it, shut it behind him in a resigned sort of way. His bag found itself being tossed unceremoniously to the floor and Suga sighed.
“Mean, Kou-chan!” came Oikawa’s muffled yells from behind the door, only making him sound, not unfairly, like a pouty 10-year-old. “Now who’s gonna help me clean this up…”
Suga couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Oikawa was one of his best friends for many reasons, but everyone knew that anything that led him within a five-mile radius of a spatula or a baking tray wasn’t one of them. (Everyone remembered to this day the Chicken Accident when Oikawa tried to cook some chicken nuggets he got from Asda and ended up 1) turning them into tiny charcoal-like pieces of burnt meat and 2) ruining his oven in the process.)
He checked his phone only to find no texts from the cute guy that came into the coffee shop this morning - Daichi. Slightly bummed and just a tad pissed off about it, he rammed the charger in the phone like it had personally offended him and hurriedly started covering himself with as many blankets as he could find in his drawers. Even if it was just the middle of October, it had gotten so cold he was sure he was going to freeze to death if he didn’t have at least 20 of the world’s fluffiest blankets on him. And with that, he softly fell asleep, with the face of a pretty stranger ingrained in his mind.
***
Sure, time flies by when you’re having fun, but it flies by even faster when you sit on your ass for 6 hours a day, 5 days a week, listening to the same squeaking hamster wheel that tiny Bob kept running on like he was training for the local hamster marathon - which, Daichi thought, sounded like an interesting idea for an event that could be real at this point in time - to the same Kuroo screaming from the background that he “needed 5 more needles” and he “needed them NOW, Daichi”.
He’d leave the keys to Ennoshita for his afternoon shift, greeting Hinata when he’d come in to replace him at the desk and then headed back to his apartment. Occasionally he would glance in the cafeteria’s direction hoping to catch a certain Barista’s eye, but that’s for him to know and for the world to find out. He would get home, staying in for his daily session of playing nothing but Minecraft for 4 hours straight - he just built himself a nice cobblestone tower and Rufus, the Love of his Life and the Doggo of his Dreams, seemed to like it.
(After Hinata and Kenma taught him how to play, he started to like it more and more.
Well, save from the few times when he went to get some Quartz and fell to his death in lava, at which point Hinata served as moral support while Kuroo laughed at him like the dick that he was.
“Did you REALLY lose your diamonds because you fell through a hole in LAVA? I can’t believe you, captain.”
“I’m going to tear off your nipples and shove them up your ass if you keep that up, Kuroo.”)
So when Kuroo called him up on a quiet Saturday evening to ask him to watch the practice match on Sunday, he was more surprised than anything, but excited to finally break the routine.
“Come on man, for the sake of old times, right?” Kuroo sounded like he was almost begging him, with the way he whined. “And I’m playing against Oikawa, we finally matched our schedules to have that practice match I - we’ve - been wanting to have for so long. I need to get my revenge on the bastard.”
“Fine, fine, I’ll be there. And if you lose, you owe me a drink.” Daichi couldn’t help but smile while saying that, earning him his - admittedly deserved - “fuck you” from his friend.
After hanging up on Kuroo, Daichi took the time and look back and reminisce about the good old days of high school. On how much fun he had when he played volleyball, how good it felt when they won games together, and how awful and frustrating losing was. He occasionally joined Kuroo and his team on practice, but he hadn’t been doing that in a pretty long time. Maybe he could ask if he could join him next time.
And if not now, then when? He hadn’t seen one of Kuroo’s matches in forever, and it was a bit overdue at this point. Besides, if he said that he didn’t want to see Kuroo’s rematch with Oikawa, the Great King himself, the setter extraordinaire, he’d be lying.
***
Somewhere on the other side of the town, a tired Sugawara looked and felt like he needed a long, long vacation somewhere exotic, away from the constant stress factor in his life named Oikawa Tooru.
“But why? I’m pretty sure I have work this weekend, and if I miss one shift I’m not sure if Kiyoko or Ukai-sensei would forgive me.” Suga was slightly annoyed at the fact that for the past five or so minutes, Oikawa has been asking - read: actually begging - him to watch his practice match with an old friend/rival from high school. Kuroo, if he remembered correctly.
For whatever reason, that name sounded familiar, but at this point it would be weird for it to not sound familiar, considering that Tooru’s being saying it over and over again, usually accompanied by various lines such as “that fucking pain in the ass” or “I want to wipe that smug look off his face so badly, Kou-chan, you have NO idea” or something along those lines.
“Come on, Kou-chan! It’s about time you came to see one of my matches, you’ll even get to see me beat Kuroo’s ass like the last time!” Oikawa shifted his position to give Suga his signature puppy eyes and put his hands together, continuing his - admittedly convincing - speech. “Besides, who’s going to be there to help me when Iwa-chan’s big strong muscles will be on display? And his ridiculously thick thighs and have you even seen his abs oh my God-- ”
“Yeah, I get it.” Suga let out an exasperated exhale, shooting his friend a disapproving and extremely tired look. “You guys are dating, and have been doing so for 5 years. Why would you need me there for that?!”
“Well yeah, but he can’t know that I like him, that would be very embarrassing.” Oikawa dramatically pointed at Koushi, then crossed his arms with his signature fake-pout and closing his eyes, reminding Sugawara of an angry toddler. (It would’ve been funny if he hadn’t been so tired of Tooru’s shit by this point.) He eventually opened one eye to see Suga’s reaction, only to be greeted by his friend’s deadpan look.
Oikawa squinted at him, and Suga followed suit, ending up in another seemingly endless staring contest.
Eventually, Suga gave in, Oikawa quietly going “I won again, Kou-chan”. Suga made a mental note to have an Actual staring contest with his friend, just out of pettiness. “Ugh, fine, but only because I know you’ll be insufferable if I don’t.”
Oikawa put his hands on his hips and leant in closer to his friend, displaying a triumphant, shit-eating grin. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that last part because my dear friend would never say that.”
Sighing, Suga took out his phone and pulled up Asahi’s contact info. He waited for his friend to pick up, hoping to every deity and religion out there that Asahi wouldn’t be upset with him for asking him to fill in for his Sunday shift.
“Suga, hi!” Asahi picked up, sounding more chipper than usual.
Koushi smiled. “Hi, Asahi. What’re you up to? I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”
“No, not at all! I’m just baking a nice small batch of muffins for myself. I’m putting that cookbook you gave me to good use.” At that, Suga smiled even wider.
A few months ago, Asahi had told the coffee shop’s crew that he suffered from anxiety. Suga wasn’t surprised really - it wasn’t a surprise for anyone, but having it confirmed by Asahi himself made it feel a bit more real - but he took everything Azumane said very seriously and promised to help however best he could. (They all gave him a big hug after the fact - even Kageyama, who wasn’t very keen on physical contact, joined in, with a quiet, tiny “Thank you for telling us Azumane-san” that made Asahi’s heart melt.)
Two weeks ago Suga had told him that cooking usually helped him calm down, and so he gave Asahi a copy of one of his favourite cookbooks of all time, marking the recipes he thought Asahi might like, so hearing that it was “being put to good use” put a big smile on his face.
However, the word “muffins” made him wince even the tiniest bit, after Oikawa’s stunt from earlier in the week. Since, you know, coming home from a Tiring Day of Work to see every single corner of the house being filled with smoke because Your Friend and Flatmate went to bake some Muffins when he has close to No Cooking Skills and had never touched a whisk in his Life. (‘Seriously, how does Iwaizumi deal with this?!’)
“I’m glad to hear that then, sounds great.” Suga cleared his throat. “I have a favour to ask of you.”
A clanking sound came from Asahi’s side - probably setting down one of his utensils. “Sure, what can I help with?”
“I have something to take care of on Sunday and I can’t come in for my shift.” Suga paused. “Can you please fill in for me? I mean it’s fine if you can’t, but I was just wondering—”
“Yeah, sure! I don’t have anything going on, so I think I’ll be able to fill in.”
Suga let out a relieved breath, relaxing immediately. “God thank you, I really appreciate it. I promise I’ll make it up to you, I’ll work one of your shifts or—”
“Suga, it’s fine, really.” Asahi paused, seeming to think about something. “Hmm, although, now that I think about it, your chocolate chip cookies don’t sound so bad. If that works for you.” Asahi smiled.
“You know what, that seems fair. You’ll have them on Monday morning, warm and chocolatey.”
“Perfect then!” A ding could be heard through the phone. “Those are my muffins. I should probably go before they get burned. See you on Monday, Suga.”
“Absolutely, thanks again! I’ll see you.”
Suga hung up, turning to Oikawa’s - still - smug face.
Koushi squinted. “I hate you, do you know that?”
Oikawa crossed his arms. “I’d say that’s mean, but that’s just about the biggest lie you’ve ever come up with. That and maybe that one time when you tried to convince me that circumcision meant having a big dick.”
At that, Suga burst out laughing. “You bitch,” he said, lightly punching Oikawa’s shoulder. “You were close to believing that one, too. Iwaizumi was probably laughing for 20 minutes straight afterwards.”
In typical Oikawa fashion, he was being fake hurt and dramatic about it, only to then shove Suga harder with a wide smile on his face. “Not my fault you two are complete dickheads and scaringly convincing!”
Suga laughed again. “Whatever you say, Oikawa.”