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Of coming together (and other fuckery)

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As it turns out, everyone's completely exhausted.

After they have a quick breakfast, courtesy of Kuroo knowing how to make food out of anything in less than what it takes for Kei to change into pajamas and leave his suitcase in the master bedroom, Akaashi explains that none of the actually slept last night.

They’re sitting at the breakfast table then, and Kei wonders if saying yes was the right thing, if he’s not imposing, if maybe taking things slower might be a better choice.

But then, what was he supposed to do in that magical, glittery little moment when Kuroo asked Kei to give them something that’s been theirs for years? Kei wanted to come here, Kei doesn’t want to leave.

Bokuto yawns. “Bed? He asks, bleary eyes darting between the other three men in the room, bangs obscuring them slightly.

“Bed.” Kuroo agrees. 

Akaashi turns to look at Kei with this little questioning look in his eyes. “Do you want to come?” he asks, and Kei doesn’t really need to sleep but…

It's a Sunday and it's winter, and he's happy.

“Sure.” He answers, trying not to show how jittery the request makes him feel. He still hesitates when they all stand up, Akaashi gently wraps a hand around his wrist, reassuring, yet loose enough that he could always break the hold with little effort. 

The blankets in the room are messed up, Bokuto pulls them all off. “Get in, all of you!” He exclaims, excited for some reason.

“Come on,” Akaashi says. Kei takes another look at Bokuto and wordlessly follows Akaashi to the center of the bed letting his head fall back on the fluffy pillows. Kuroo climbs in on Akaashi’s other side, grinning brightly at Bokuto. 

Kei kind of wonders what the hell is going on.

Bokuto then proceeds to make the bed over them and tuck the blankets in, there’s something painfully sweet about it. 

“The cats like to sneak up the covers,” Kuroo explains, arms already pulling Akaashi close. “And when they get playful they also get bite-y”

Kei nods, as it is, one cat -Lord Byron, he remembers- has already climbed on the bed and is sniffing around, making biscuits with his paws like he’s trying to find the softest place. Bokuto rounds the bed and slips into the covers beside Kei. 

There’s a short second when they’re both stiffly staring at the ceiling like cliched characters in a TV show. Kei turns to look at the Owl and is met with a particularly intense stare in those wide eyes. 

There are about five centimeters between them. Kei inches closer, only so that the lengths of their arms are pressed together. Bokuto narrows his eyes. “Want cuddles?” he asks, a little smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth.

Kei glares at him, pressing closer still.

“Gonna have to say it Tsukki.” Bokuto laughs.

Kei thinks of a second, he could say it -he’s here already, isn’t he?- but then he gets a less embarrassing idea. He quickly shifts so he has an arm wrapped around Bokuto’s thick torso and a leg thrown over his thighs. “What do you think?” he asks with a smug smile.

The older man makes this little, whine-like sound on the back of his throat and then Kei’s being jostled and there are way too many limbs. It results in him being caged in basically all of Bokuto’s limbs. “Tch, so stubborn.” He says into Kei’s hair.

He hears Kuroo and Akaashi laugh behind him and then there’s a warm weight settling on top of their joined forms. “Kou is a cat hog.” Akaashi calls, voice sleepy. “Hope you don’t mind, they like to sleep on top of him.”

Kei sighs, feeling himself get sleepier against all odds. “He’s the bed’s warmest spot.” He says, cheek rubbing on the soft skin of the other’s arm. “No wonder.”

Someone hums behind him, and Kei would turn around but he’s just found the perfect position for his head. He peers up at Bokuto’s face to find half-lidded bronze eyes watching him. “Glad you’re back.” He murmurs.

Kei smiles, he wants to kiss the other but maybe it’s not the time yet. “Sleep.” He says, with a small smile.

It takes a while, but he falls asleep too. 

And blissfully, dreams of nothing. He wakes up feeling slightly cold, there’s something warm at his feet, but no trace of Bokuto’s large body covering his. Kei turns around, eyes opening. 

The first thing he notices is the tenderness of the gaze on him, though it’s still blurry. “Kuroo.” He mumbles. “Where-“

“It’s their weekend to make lunch. “Kuroo answers, yawning. “Well, Bo’s, but you know…” 

Kei smiles, sleepy and content. “Yeah.” He says, and he’s itching to pull closer, though he’s not sure why it’s so hard this time. 

Kuroo looks away, his eyes drifting to the ceiling, he has that look on his face. The one that betrays when he’s overthinking something. “Are you really alright with this?” the older man asks. “We came on a little strong.”

It’s not like Kei can blame him for the trust issues, his inability to just come out and say things is what caused this whole mess in the first place. Add that to Kuroo never wanting to assume things are happening to his benefit and… Oh, he might as well.

His face burns as he sleepily drags his body close to the other’s. “You caught me off guard.” He says, the fabric of his pajamas barely brushing Kuroo’s side. “But I think I needed that.”

Kuroo shoots him a curious glance, body still stiff. “Why?”

“I couldn’t-“ He says, turning his red face into the pillow. “It felt too good to be true.” he mutters into the fabric.

The older man huffs. “Tell that to me.” His head turns to Kei, eyes capturing his. “I thought I wouldn’t see you again.” He says, voice soft and sad.

There’s so much weight to that statement, Kei knows, he presses himself closer to the other, after all, he knows Kuroo thrives off contact. The man’s eyes are conflicted, but in the end, he turns on his side, body curled into itself. “I didn't think you would want to.” Kei whispers. “I wrote letters and all. Just in case.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows rise. “I mean I was mad… but I wouldn’t have just… shut you out.” He says, arms still flexed over his chest.

Kei sighs. “I wish I could make it up to you.” He lifts a hand to brush over Kuroo’s knuckles, trailing over them reverently, then up, over his collarbone and neck, the contact sends sparks racing down his skin. 

Pressing the side of his face into the pillow, Kuroo looks at him for a moment, longing filling his eyes. “Don’t disappear again,” he says, and Kei can’t help his hand coming up to brush over the tanned skin of his cheekbone, brushing away imaginary tears. “And kiss me, please.” 

It’s almost a whisper into the pillow, but Kei hears it just fine.

He leans in, stretching his neck because of the way Kuroo’s body is bent, he can’t really reach the other’s mouth with the way his head is pressed into the pillow, but he brushes his lips softly over the place in Kuroo’s collarbone that his fingers were just touching. 

Kuroo turns his head to meet him, and it’s only right, only perfect, like he’s tasting stardust and drinking in liquid warmth. Their lips meet, soft and unhurried, again and again, Kei props himself up on his elbow and steals Kuroo's breaths, his other hand buries in soft black hair smoothing it back in long, caressing strokes.

It isn’t hard, he knows the dark-haired man like the palm of his hand, and though the kisses never cross the line from tender to heated, Kei can feel the earlier tension melting away both from his body and Kuroo’s.

It's how it should be, he pulls the other closer, kisses those cheekbones, the tip of his nose, the small furrow between his brows. Breathes in the distinctive scent of his skin. He’s hungry for the other, not just in the sexual way -well, that too- but more as in he could keep doing this for hours and hours until the very fabric of reality frays.

And it’s right.

.

.

“They’re still making out.” Koutarou stage-whispers as he returns to the kitchen. “Do I interrupt them?”

Akaashi looks up at him with this little, self-satisfied smile. “No, they needed that.” He says. “The burritos taste just as good reheated.”

“'Kay.” Koutarou goes to open his takeout box, he turns to Akaashi, grinning impishly. “We could wait for them.” He says wiggling his eyebrows, tearing a peal of laughter from his boyfriend's throat.”Or join them…”

“Are you jealous Kou?” Akaashi steps forward, hand sliding up Koutarou’s arm. His blue eyes are clear, and he’s biting that plump lower lip of his.

Koutarou feels blessed, however cliché that may sound, one of his hands trails over the curve of Akaashi’s waist, thumb rubbing softly at his ribcage. “More like it’s really hot.” He says, leaning down to press his forehead to Akaashi’s. “And you’re pretty, wanna make out?”

Akaashi leans up, lips pressing briefly against Koutarou’s arms hooking around his neck. “Kou, we’re adults, I don’t think making out is the correct ter-“ he lets out an undignified squeak when Koutarou bends and picks him up, thick arm under his knees.

“Sure it is.” He laughs, kissing Akaashi deep, slipping his tongue in the other’s mouth, carefully mapping out the roof of it.

Akaashi moans into it, letting himself be carried off down the hall. His arms tighten around Koutarou’s neck, and it’s a wonder they even make it to the bedroom when neither is paying much attention to the way.

Koutarou spares a look at Kuroo and Tsukishima as they walk in. The blond is placing little kisses along the column of Kuroo’s throat, a smile on his lips. Kuroo looks relaxed, blissful even, his hands are fisted loosely on the back of the sweatshirt Tsukishima uses for pajamas. 

They both lift their heads as he walks in with Akaashi in his arms. Koutarou sticks out his tongue playfully as he lets himself fall on the bed, maneuvering Akkaashi so he ends up sitting in his lap. “Figured we’d join.”

Tsukishima drops his nose back to the crook of Kuroo’s neck, nudging the other to extend his neck. “Were you two expecting this?” he asks, nuzzling Kuroo’s pulse, drawing a little moan from the dark-haired mans mouth

“Not quite.” It’s Akaashi that answers, lips drawing a hot line over Koutarou’s cheek and down, down, down. “Kou peeked in about three times, I guess you two didn’t notice.” He says the last word against Koutarou’s collarbone, lips brushing soft and enticing. Koutarou’s hands are already sliding under Akaashi’s shirt.

Tsukishima hums, but he doesn’t stop sucking softly at Kuroo’s neck, Koutarou can already see a few little bruises forming in their path. Kuroo moans again, blissed out and probably on the cusp of being too relaxed to move and too aroused to fall asleep.

Koutarou relishes on the look of Tsukishima’s long limbs half-draped over his boyfriend’s body.

Kuroo sighs, contented. “Jealous?” he says, a half-smirk on his face. 

Koutarou reaches or a hand to cup the other's cheek, thumb sliding over his lip. “Nope.” He says, low and rough, feeling Akaashi’s long fingers slide up under his shirt to trace patterns on his back. “But you two are too hot together.”

The blond has moved on to tugging impatiently at the collar of Kuroo’s pajamas -he’s the only one who owns actual, proper pajamas- when he can’t reach enough skin, Koutarou sees him tugging them over Kuroo’s head, at just about the same time that Akaashi rids him off his t-shirt.

Koutarou notices when a little, wild look is exchanged between Tsukishima and Akaashi, there’s something like a smirk on Akaashi’s face, and Tsukishima lifts his eyebrows smugly. Koutarou knows something has just passed between them, some sort of unspoken challenge-thing.

But then Akaashi’s kissing down his chest with a renewed determination, and Tsukishima is doing the same to Kuroo.

And Kuroo looks far gone, blissful and happy, he and Koutarou share a short look that says both too much and too little. The takeaway, is, however, that Kuroo, at this point in time feels loved and happy and Koutarou can only share and relish in that.

When Akaashi’s fingers hook over the waistband of his sweatpants and teasingly drag them down over his hips, Koutarou’s knuckles brush against Kuroo’s -as he’s in much the same state- and it’s perfect.

.

.

The bed shifts.

Kei isn’t a light sleeper, but having slept so much yesterday is probably at fault.

As it is, he sees the figure get up slowly, careful not to disturb the bed too much. “Hey! No, Coco.” Bokuto whispers, shaking his foot. “Not playing.”

In Kei’s arms, Akaashi grumbles. One of Kei’s hands rises to brush soothingly through his head, letting him drift closer to Kuroo.

Bokuto slides out of the room without any more noise. Once he has left both his other lovers in each other's arms, Kei follows. 

He finds Bokuto in the kitchen, mixing up a protein shake and for a second Kei feels like he never left. “You’re off-season and you still work out this early.” He says, voice low and still scratchy from sleep.

Bokuto jumps, startled “’m used to it.” he says, turning around to look at Kei. “You’re awake pretty early.”

It's a bit weirder with Bokuto, this whole thing, although in his defense, Kei has only been here for like literally a day. Still, maybe it’s because they never were intimate before, or because Bokuto is so sunny and optimistic and sometimes he's not that sure what to do with himself around him.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to, he’s just not used to being close to Bokuto in that way.

He actually does want to.

Very much.

“I slept too much yesterday.” Kei yawns, pushing himself up to sit on the counter, he feels a surge of ongoing lance through him t the sight of Bokuto’s back, finishing his preparations. “Can I come?”

Bokuto turns around to look at him, eyes wide, grin wider, revealing the extra packet of protein powder in his hands. “Of course, baby.” He says, with that low voice that he only uses when he’s either just woken up or terribly aroused.

A little smile takes shape across Kei's mouth. “I’m going to need some sweatpants, though.” He says, and Bokuto comes closer, pressing his hips against the counter beside Kei's legs, he’s so close now, so close, Kei’s closed his eyes before he knew it, awaiting a kiss that’s about two years overdue.

Only, Bokuto kisses the tip off his nose and hoists him off the counter like he isn’t six feet five inches tall and fairly muscled to match. “Most of mine are in Kuroo’s old room.” He says, letting a cackle loose at Kei's red face and affronted expression. “Hurry along, it’s Monday and I want to go to the gym after.”

Kei glares at him for a second then hurries for the clothes.

.

.

They do make it to the gym, only about an hour late.

Koutarou hasn’t done this since two years ago, but Tsukishima starts down their old route and he follows, transfixed.

It’s a Monday morning of one of the last days of the year and it hasn’t snowed yet though it probably will have by new years.

Tsukishima looks lovely in one of his hoodies -bright purple with a little owl on the front- and Koutarou notes that he fills it a bit better than he would’ve before. 

He definitely has to get into drawing again.

His old works that Tsukishima stars in are still carefully stored in the back of the cat room closet, but he could always take them out too, the blond should see…

He should see.

The scenery goes by the at a leisurely pace and there’s no way he can stop looking at the other. Until he trips over a step of course. Tsukishima stops, bending down to look at Koutarou, those golden brows furrowing tersely over golden eyes. “Did you hurt yourself?” he asks, always direct.

“I barely stumbled,” Koutarou says, rising again, and then, because he hasn’t got a filter anymore. “You’re cute, you know.” 

Tsukishima sputters, turning red. “Well then, let’s go.” He says tapping him on the shoulder almost noncommittally. Still, Koutarou notices the hands turning into fists and the frustrated tilt to the blonds head.

Bah, he is cute.

Koutarou sets a leisurely pace, waiting for the exact moment, they reach a certain path. It doesn’t really have good memories for either of them, but that’s about to change, and who cares anyway? They’re here now.

Once they’re halfway down, and he has checked that there’s no one else around, he grabs Tsukishima by the wrist. “Hey!” he says, and it’s not as loud as usual, but in the quiet of the early morning, it feels like it.

Tsukishima’s eyebrows rise. “Uh? Is something wrong?” he asks, with that pink nose, thin pink lips. Koutarou brushes a drop of sweat from his temple, coming closer, closer. “I can, right?” he asks and it wouldn’t matter anyway because their lips are already like an inch away and Tsukishima murmurs the ‘yes’ into his mouth, soft but unyielding. 

Koutarou snakes his hands around the blond, pulling him in by the waist and he feels like a teenager again when his heart starts beating like he’s playing in the Olympics or something.

Somehow they end up at that bench -if anything they are consistent-. But it doesn't matter much, to Koutarou at least. What was that slogan from TsumTsum’s school ‘who needs memories?’ well when he has any of his loves in his arms he definitely doesn't.

Especially when this is the first time they really kiss, Tsukishima’s nose is cold and he’s sitting on Koutarou's lap though his legs are entirely too long for that, and they touch the floor beside them. He tastes like winter and a little like salt, like everything he knows he’s been missing for a long while.

It isn’t until some passing jogger scoffs at them that they part, Tsukishima’s face is a fiery red and he slides down from Koutarou’s lap to sit more respectably on the bench. “Should’ve done this before.” He mutters, so low it’s hard to hear.

Koutarou presses himself close, an arm falling around the blond's shoulders, he turns his head towards him and grins. “Damn right. You owe me a few.” And then presses such a wet kiss to the blond’s cheek that it has him laughing breathlessly and wiggling in his grasp. 

“Kou, no-“ stiffens, golden eyes turning to him again..

Koutarou pauses for a moment, breathes in the scent of Tsukishima’s hair. “Say that again.”

The blond buries his face in Koutarou’s hair. “…Kou.” And from where his lips are poised, Koutarou can feel Tsukishima’s face burning, he can see the blush spreading down his neck, probably down his chest too.

Koutarou lets himself be enchanted, he looks up and kisses Tsukishima again.

.

.

 

Can one develop a habit in less than ten days? Because Kei already feels like he’s going to miss this and it’s just the second day they do it.

It’s lucky that he has a lot more stamina then he used to, a side effect from throwing himself into training with the frogs with a large degree of abandon for the last two years.

Because Bokuto has also gained stamina and he’d feel pretty puny if he couldn’t at least, sort of keep up with him.

Also, making out behind trees in the park really makes the frigid air and the early hour worth it, especially since there are few people around, so he’s subject to a minimum amount of embarrassment. 

He’s going to have to be more careful in the gym though. Watching Bokuto do weights is… something else.

Maybe just not stare at him while Kei himself is using the machines.

As it is he finds himself compelled to lick the other sometimes and that is not a safe thought while benching.

It is all still very nice, and for a few minutes during their walk home Kei wonders if everything can really be so perfect? There have been certain moments of awkwardness in this short time, but he often finds himself feeling like he never left the warm apartment and its occupants. Even the cats sort of like him and that’s -if Kuroo is to be believed- not something that happens often.

God, he doesn’t deserve them.

But he has decided that as long as they want him it’s fine.

He has been… happy.

Of course, just as he thinks this, something happens. They arrive at the apartment and it’s almost lunchtime, Akaashi has a half day so he should be here or at least on his way. But as they enter, the place is quiet, both cats greet them at the door, meowing insistently.

“I’m gonna check their bowl,” Bokuto says, disappearing into the cat room while Kei sets their stuff down. “Akaashi.” He calls, though he doesn’t really expect much of an answer, seeing as the racket when they came in was significant and no one called for them. 

Kei heads into the master bedroom, Akaashi must be held up at wo-

No, Akaashi’s there, sitting on the far end of the bed that is not visible from the hallway, hunched over, hands coiled so tight around each other that his knuckles are white, and when he lifts his head there are trails of dark eyeliner all over his cheeks, stark against the pale skin.

The sight makes Kei’s heart lurch.

He rushes over to the other, feeling his hear race. But when his hands reach for Akaashi, the older man straightens up anger taking over his features. “Don’t.” he says and it’s quiet and resolute and a scream would hurt more. “Don’t…” he says again, softer, more watery, keeping his gaze well away from Kei’s.

“Why?” he crouches, trying to find that gaze. “What happened?” Akaashi’s breathing fast, his hands are shaking and Kei doesn’t know if it’s anger or sadness that’s making him like that. He’s fast enough to grab a hold of the man’s hands though, they’re terribly cold.

Akaashi laughs, hollow and sad. “You’re leaving again.” He says, hoarsely. “You were going to leave without saying anything again.”

“What no-“ Kei defends, his hand’s squeeze Akaashi’s. “I’m not, you’re not making sense-“

“Is that true?” he turns to find Bokuto on the doorway again, hand clutching at the doorjamb so hard that Kei thinks it might splinter. “Tsukki you’re-“ his face is the picture of despair.

“No!” Kei exclaims, his own voice hoarse now. “I—why are you saying that?” he asks turning to Akaashi again. “What did I do?”

Akaaashi takes in a shaky breath. while Bokuto slides across the bed towards them. “I found-“ he opens his hand to hand Kei a crumpled piece of paper, and then slides two envelopes from under his body. -these in your coat while doing laundry.” He shakes as he hands Bokuto one of the envelopes. “Mine reads like a goodbye just fine.”

Kei doesn’t have to look to know what they are, but Akaashi -rational, calm Akaashi- getting like this and believing he would leave just from that? It's strange, and though he knows the contents of the letters by heart – he rewrote all of them, at least twice- and yes, they, especially Akaashi’s which is vaguer could give that impression. This is the reaction he would expect from Bokuto, maybe even Kuroo.

But not him. 

“Those were in case you guys didn’t want to talk to me.” He says softly, a hand coming up to wipe away the tear tracks. “I forgot they were there.”

Akaashi looks up at him, blue eyes wide and still filled with hurt. “I keep thinking I'm going to come home and you are going to be gone again.” He whispers. 

And Kei's heart breaks a little.

.

.

He hears Tsukishima sigh. “I won’t leave like that again.” His golden eyes are remorseful. “I promise, ok?” he says, warm hands still in Keiji’s face, thumbs soothing at his skin.

Keiji nods, letting his head fall on the blond’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, I freaked out.” He says and two pairs of arms wrap around him, one from each side. A feeling of safety falls over him like a warm blanket and he takes a shaky breath, wondering how he lost control that way. “It’s fine.” He says, not wanting to impose. “I'm fine now.”

But neither of them lets go. “Nuh-uh,” Bokuto says besides his ear. “You’re still all sad.”

“And stiff,” Tsukishima adds, squeezing him tighter. They both smell like sweat but that's not something he really cares about, Tsukishima is here, solid against him. “Lie down for me?” It’s a request but Keiji doesn’t think twice about doing it. Bokuto disappears from his back and then he’s practically being laid down into the bed’s soft pillows. 

Tsukishima smiles. “I meant on your front.” He says, and Keiji bolts up, leaning on his elbow.

“Sorry.” He says, and then Tsukishima’s so close. Keiji knows it’s completely cliché, but he’s overcome by déjà vu from their first kiss. And clichés are cliches for a reason, he wants a kiss and he’s been denied from it for too long.

So he leans forward, relishing in the warmth radiating from the blond’s skin, the way his lids fall closed, and his skin flushes, everything, everything.

Their lips meet, soft and innocent Tsukishima braces himself on the bed, letting Keiji take control, letting his tongue delve in deep, hungry, and wanting. Reminding him that Kei has promised some sort of permanence and Keiji wants to trust him, every little fiber of him wants to be assured that the blond will stay. But that’s hard, it needs to be built and cared for, he can’t just blindly trust like Bokuto or just bravely hope for the best like Kuroo, he needs these reassurances, he does.

They only part because Bokuto clears his throat, he’s watching, dumbfounded with a strategically placed pillow over his lap. “I- umm can I draw you two?” he says and then his stomach growls. “After lunch tho’”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “You don’t ask most of the time.” He says.

“Hey, I asked you to model for my group.” Bokuto snaps back.

The blond. “And then I found your sketchpad, you had been drawing all of us for ages.” He says. “It’s fine by me.”

Keiji just smiles and nods, eyes meeting Bokuto’s happy, excited ones. “I’ll go heat up the leftovers.” The owl says, bouncing off the bed. “Don’t get naughty without me!” he calls from the hallway.

Tsukishima snorts leaning down to lay his head on the pillows too. “I mean it.” He says, eyes determined.

“I know you do.” Keiji sighs. “It’s just taking me a while to process.”

One of the blond’s hands comes up to lay on Keiji’s chest. “That’s fine.” He says, and then looks away, face flushing. “I love you Keiji.”

The confession is amazing for what it is, but also for what he knows lies behind it. Tsukishima still isn’t someone to spell out his feelings often, and he probably ever will be, but Keiji can see the promise behind the words. He can hear the ‘good mornings’ and ‘good night’s, taste more and more kisses to come.

After all the letter did make it clear. “I know, I love you too Kei.” He says.

A small crash and some cursing break the moment. “Are you sure we don’t have to check on him?” Tsukishima asks, head craning up.

“He stubs his little toe on the fridge door often,” Keiji says, "I think that was it." He pauses. "I’m surprised he didn’t ask to join us.” He says, and it is a little uncharacteristic, but then, another of Bokuto’s great motivators is food. 

A blush rises to the blond’s cheeks. “Ummm…”

“I know you two made out.” Keiji points out. “You didn’t have that hickey this morning.”

Tsukishima still squirms, then he looks away, lips pursed into the most adorable pout. “Just turn around, your back is all stiff.” He grumbles.

And Keiji does, but not before stealing a kiss -or two, or three- from the blond first.

.

.

Tetsuro is the second to say it, they’re in bed and it’s late, Akaashi and Bokuto are peacefully asleep and only Bokuto’s soft snores fill the room.

He’s breathing quietly, staring at Tsukishima’s face, trying not to disrupt him.

Behind him, Bokuto turns in his sleep, throwing a leg around Tetsuro’s hips -they haven’t figured out who should sleep where yet, so far it’s been however circumstance arranges them- scoring Coco into jumping off the bed and startling Tsukishima awake. Those golden eyes snap open, confused as he takes in their position and the way he’s being hugged close to Akaashi’s chest.

They meet Kuroo’s next. “Can’t sleep?” He whispers hand coming up to brush the knuckles of Tetsuro’s. It is something he’s been doing frequently, those shy touches like he's going to end up being some sort of cruel hallucination.

Not that Tetsuro’s complaining, the deepest, most denied parts of his dreams the past five years have been about Tukishima touching him like he’s something worthy of reverence -though Bokuto and Akaashi have taken pretty good care of that when he’s awake lately-, worthy of care.

Tetsuro interfaces their fingers. “A little,” he says

The blond frowns, shifting closer, their noses so close they’re almost touching. Tetsuro closes his eyes, content to feel the other’s warm breath on his skin. A few minutes pass and Tsukishima’s breathing evens slightly. “I love you.” Tetsuro says, not thinking much.

Tsukishima’s fingers tighten lightly around his. In the darkness, he can barely see but Tetsuro knows his cheeks are that faint pink. “Love you too.” Tsukishima answers, face half-buried in a pillow. Eyes closed.

Tetsuro takes one last moment to trace the blond’s lovely features with his eyes.

And he closes his eyes.

.

.

Shopping for new years dinner is… how Kei imagined it, really. 

He and Akaashi are actually looking at the list that Kuroo made earlier this morning, while Kuroo and Bokuto are alternating between highjacking the shopping carts and looking at Christmas sweaters for the cats even though it’s a week past Christmas. 

Kei tells them as much. “That only means they’re cheaper.” Bokuto howls, clutching several to his chest. “And we always have next Christmas, Tsukki.”

It might be worth a mention that his mom is totally going to be knitting sweaters for them and probably even the cats, but then, that’s not something he wants to get into today.

Akiteru is usually right about their parents, that doesn’t mean the initial news aren’t going to hit hard.

Beside him, Akaashi smiles, he and Kei share a look -that look, ‘that’s our over-excitable idiot’-. “Did I ever tell you how we ended up keeping the cats?”

Kei shakes his head, though he already has a pretty good idea. It’s nice to hear the story from Akaashi, even if that little -stupid- voice in the back of his head curses him for missing it. The cats are an addition to life he never actually thought he needed -he never really thought it would mean anything more than just added work-, but it’s frankly quite funny to see Kuroo annoy them until he ends up swatted, or Akaashi reading with one of them purring on his chest. Lord Byron, particularly likes Kei's feet, it’s like he can tell when they are cold, and decides to warm them up with its squishy body.

That’s definitely an upside.

“’Kaashi, look at this cat bed!” said cat bed is violently lemon yellow and fuchsia, and also big enough for a great dane. With Bokuto holding it up it actually looks proportional to size.

Kuroo comes up behind him. “Bo! I found some fish-shaped scratchers.”

“Are they always like this?” Kei mutters into Akaashi’s ear.

“The cats are their babies, why do you think we have an entire room for their stuff?” the older man whispers, and then turns to Bokuto. “We’re not taking the bed, you’re the one who refused to train them to sleep outside the room.”

“’Kaashi they were sad!” Bokuto whines. “Oh fine! I like them sleeping on top of me anyway.” And he goes, presumably to return the bed to wherever he actually gt it from.

Kei snickers, and Akaashi sighs. “We’re not leaving here without at least the sweaters.” But he’s smiling as he says it, and that makes Kei want to smile too.

He has an image to maintain though. “What do you mean he refused to train them?”

Akaashi scoffs, picking up some spices and throwing them in the cart. “Oh, they manipulate him.” He directs the cart to the next aisle. “We tried to teach them to sleep on their furniture. You know, the three towers and four cat beds they have?” He laughs. “Kuroo’s idea, actually. But by then they were already used to our bed and they would cry and scratch at the door to be let in.”

The picture is clear in Kei’s head, Bokuto tossing around, annoyed and pouty. “How long did he last?” he asks.

“Three hours.” Akaashi answers. “Kuroo was about to go get them too, he thought something had happened. He even looked them over when we opened the door… can you give me that?” Kei grabs a can from the highest shelve and hands it to him. “But they’re just spoiled.”

Kei refrains from saying anything, deep inside, he understands the cats all too well… but that one also goes to the bucket of things that he’s not going to admit, ever.

And in the end, he votes to get the cat sweaters, much to Akaashi’s dismay, so…

.

.

So maybe he’s showing off a little.

What the hell, he’s happy, happy in a way that he didn’t think he would be again for the longest time.

Not that Bokuto and Akaashi aren’t amazing, not that they don’t make him feel the way that shutting down some wicked spikes did back when he was in the university’s team. But this is something else, there’s a sense of wholesomeness to this day -Bokuto’s smile is wider, Akaashi’s shoulders are looser, Tsukishima is actually humming and Tetsuro himself feels a lot brighter-. All of it, he had the day off, their new years' shopping was fun and then Tsukishima and Akaashi helped make dinner.

The cats are in their little Christmas sweaters.

So yeah, Tetsuro does show off with his cooking and he’s proud of the outcome.

Especially with the way everyone’s faces light up while eating, conversation flowing smoothly across the table.

He takes a second, once everyone’s done to admire the satisfied expressions on his partners' faces -partners? Boyfriends? They haven’t really discussed a title, the commitment is there though- the way Akaashi’s and Tsukishima’s cheeks are flushed fro the wine, how Bokuto is just a little more excited and eager and-Oh he’s in love, so in love.

Bokuto disappears to the kitchen for a second and comes back carrying a second bottle of wine -the good bottle of wine that Akaashi’s mom gave them last year- a grin in his face that is bright enough to rival the sun. “I think t’s just the occasion.” He says.

“Bro, yes.” He answers, standing up to take the bottle from the other’s hands and uncork it -sharp objects and his boyfriends lovely, thick hands are not to be trusted together- “Now move to the sofa, all of you, I want to cuddle.” And no one objects

He pours each of them a glass, it’s not midnight yet, but who cares? He’s here, with them, Tsukishima is leaning into Akaashi's arms, looking oh so pretty in a cashmere sweater that’s a little short and a little tight on him,. Akaashi’s arms are around his wrist, and he’s resting his chin on the blond’s shoulder, looking positively content. Bokuto’s sitting beside him, one of his strong hands on Tsukishima’s thigh.

Once his own glass is filled, Tetsuro sets the half-empty bottle on the coffee table and sits down. Bokuto receives him with open arms and a kiss to his neck. “So, what are we toasting to?” Tetsuro asks.

It’s Akaashi, surprisingly, who takes the lead. “To a New Year.” He says, and then looks at Tsukishima with all the tenderness that exists in the world. “A very happy one.”

“To Tsukki.” Koutarou hoots, turning his head to press a kiss to the blond’s cheek.

Tsukishima laughs, soft and giddy, his cheeks the color of pale pink petals. He looks down, bashful for a moment. “To this.” He says, voice low. And everyone drinks, loose and happy.

There might be moments, Tetsuro thinks, when doubt takes a hold of them, as it is fair and to be expected, but there’s no doubt when they are like his, no insecurity because they choose to believe in each other and that’s enough, everything else can come after.

And it will. 

He connects his phone to the speaker -the one Tsukishima got him all those years ago- and lets the music play, setting the shuffle feature because this evening couldn’t be more perfect anyway so who cares what’s playing on the background.

There's a moment, a shift in the ambiance of the room, and then he’s being pulled on Bokuto’s lap, like he barely weighs anything and he's enveloped in the heat of the owl’s arms and lips and tongue.

Bokuto is a messy kisser, but he also has a way to make it not matter at all, his tongue invades Tetsuro's mouth, mapping out his teeth and the roof of his mouth with expertise. Tetsuro groans into the kiss, hands tangling in the other man’s hair, destroying the carefully constructed hairstyle.

They part when there’s a sound from the right, a needy moan of the likes that he has rarely heard before. He pulls away, dizzy and already more aroused than should be legal to find Bokuto’s hungry gaze set o their partners.

Tsukishima is sitting backward in Akaashi’s lap, legs spread open by the dark-haired man’s while hickeys are sucked into his neck.

Akaashi’s whispering too low, too fast, and Tetsuro can’t really make it out. His hands are under Tsukishima’s clothes, one snaking under the borrowed sweater, the other in the blond’s pants.

Tsukishima’s face tells him everything he needs to know though, his eyes are glassy, his cheeks bright red and his mouth is hanging open just so… he looks delectable, edible. “Watcha whispering over there?” he asks, the words loaded and breathless, all while he can feel Bokuto making quick work of the buttons of his shirt. 

“Oh, nothing,” Akaashi says, with that innocent voice that isn’t innocent at all. His hands do something under Tsukishima’s clothing that makes the blond gasp. “Just telling Kei here a couple of things.”

“Teasing me, you mean,” Tsukishima grumbles, though his hips are bucking into Akaashi’s hands. “You’re fil-“ he’s cut off with another moan.

Tetsuro crawls the short way towards them, he pauses for a second, to capture Tsukishima’s inviting pink lips, already shiny with spit. The blond’s mouth is pliant and greedy, sucking Tetsuro’s tongue in a way that makes a surge of possessiveness rise up his throat.

One of those nights, isn’t it?

Then he leans forward, sucks the lobe of Akaashi’s ear into his mouth until the man moans and then asks. “What were you saying?” He asks, Akaashi whispers it back and Tetsuro’s eyes widen a wave of arousal washing over him.

“Guys!” Bokuto whines behind him, hands grab at Tetsuro’s hips, pulling him back into the owl’s lap. ”If you keep being all cagey I’m taking Tsukishima and leaving,” he says, though he’s working on ridding Tetsuro of his shirt, so it’s not like he sounds too serious.

Tetsuro turns to grin at him. “Sorry babe.” He says, nuzzling Bokuto’s neck. “Keiji was just wondering how good Tsukki would look spread on your cock.”

For a second Bokuto just stiffens, eyes wide open, pupils dilating almost slowly, breath catches in his throat and Tetsuro can feel him harden against his thigh.

Tsukishima shivers under the intense stare, he throws his head back over Akaashi’s shoulder, gasping again. The dark-haired man chuckles, dark and sensuous. “So, wanna do it, Kou?” he asks, the hand under Tsukishima’s sweater slides out, it grabs Tsukishima’s chin forcing him to look forward. “He wants to, we’ve talked about it, haven’t we, Kei?”

Still not that far gone, the blond hisses. “Shut up.” He moans. “Stop teasing.”

“So…” Tetsuro smirks, eyes trained on Tsukishima's conflicted face. “No then?” his hands cup Bokuto’s face. “I’m happy to take him, baby.” He says, trailing his lips over the other’s cheekbone, Bokuto shivers.

Meanwhile, Akaashi slides his hand out of Tsukishima’s pants, a small smile on his face. The blond whines at the loss of contact, thighs shaking. “Keiji…” It’s breathless and haughty and Tsukishima still has the energy to try and glare at Akaashi, though the dark-haired man just looks at him, eyebrows raised-

Tsukishima bites his lip, turning to look at Tetsuro and Bokuto, whose eyes are still trained on him like he’s prey. “Tsukki…” he says, trailing off as Tetsuro grinds down against his hardness. 

Tsukishima turns away, cheeks growing redder until even the tips of his ears look warm. “C’mon,” he says, flustered. “C’mon Kou.”

Tetsuro barely has time to slide down on the sofa when Bokuto surges forward, grabbing the collar of Tsukishima’s sweater and kissing the blond like he’s claiming him, like he wants to mark Tsukishima. And the blond gives as good as he gets, legs rising up to wrap around the owl’s middle as well as they can in the awkward position.

It’s one of the hottest things Tetsuro has seen. He lifts his eyes to meet Akaashi’s which convey a similar feeling. “Maybe we should move to the bed,” Akaashi says, voice soft yet somehow commanding. “Someone’s bound to fall off the couch at some point.”

They leave a trail of ¡clothes leading up to the bedroom.

.

.

He’s being taken over, burning up, and being remade there is no other way to say it.

-technically there is, he’s being collectively ravished by three men whom he all happens to love, but that sounds too clinical, too clear for the transcendence of what Kei is currently feeling-

There are hands everywhere, there are lips everywhere. His arms are clinging to Akaashi’s neck while the man holds him steady, eyes trained on Kei’s face as he falls apart. 

He wants to, no, he needs to surge forward and kiss him, to muffle the moans that Bokuto’s hands and mouth are tearing from him, but Kuroo’s hand holding his chin prevents him for it, even as the two thick fingers delving deep into his hole curl just the right way and Kei’s pretty sure his eyes roll back in his head.

In this position he gets no friction, and Bokuto is taking his sweet time, he tries to spread his legs further so he can rub into the bed, but Bokuto’s hand on his hips won't let him. It feels good, god, too good but Kei’s beginning to think he’s going to self combust. Eyes dating between Akaashi’s hooded, blue ones, and Kuroo’s sinful gaze, he opens his mouth. “Keiji… Tetsu...” He says, and then presses his lips shut, knowing he’s about to beg, and knowing that’s exactly the reason for the twin smirks on their faces

Kuroo’s large hand comes up to cup his jaw, making sure Kei’s staring deep into his eyes when he speaks. “Anything you need baby?” his voice is low and rough.

“Just tell us Kei.” Akaashi leans forward to whisper in his ear, while one of those graceful hands moves from their place holding him steady to trail down to his ribs to tug and pinch at his already sensitive nipples. “We are all ears.”

It’s followed by a particularly vicious press at his prostate, Kei’s sure he’s leaking pre-cum all over the sheets and Akaashi’s leg at this point but he can’t look down to confirm. Bokuto’s hand squeezes at one of his cheeks, hard, spreading him open. “Ahnn.. just, touch me, he keens, and then when those two faces remain impassive. “Ple- ah please.”

Akaashi and Kuroo turn to look at each other, Kuroo grabs Akaashi’s face and pulls him in for a short kiss, then he looks at Kei. “Sure baby.” He says. “But I want to see something for a bit too,” he says, and then the hand on his jaw is trailing up, up, up, tangling in his hair. Kuroo tugs lightly, just enough that it stings and Kei can’t help but moan, and then the hand is guiding his head down, to where Akaashi’s cock is standing, red and hard. “Suck.”

It’s more of a command than anything, and Kei would, even if not given it. He shifts his weight to his knees, and opens his mouth to lick a long stripe up the shaft, under his forearms, Akaashi’s thighs quake.

He hears that angelic voice cry out above him. Kei looks up to see Akaashi’s head thrown back, Kuroo’s sucking at the side of his neck like some sort of vampire.

Kei can play too. He takes Akaashi in his hand, take a deep breath and swallows as much as he can of him, cheeks hollowing out

Kuroo’s hand disappears from his head, but then the older man is whispering at his ear as he bobs his head up and down Akaashi’s cock. “That’s it, Tsukki.” He says, a hand trailing down his spine, gathering the electrifying bolts of pleasure that Bokuto is sending up with his fingers.

The hand slides down, down, fingernails digging into his skin and leaving actual ed trails on their wake, until finally, finally, it comes to wrap around Kei’s own neglected hardness. He moans around Akaashi, just as Kuroo’s other hand gabs the back of his head and starts guiding him up and down Akaashi’s cock. 

He barely has time to breathe but Kei hasn’t been this aroused since… well, ever.

There’s a hoarse peal of laughter behind him, and he feels Bokuto’s fingers spread him, already pliant, ready, why- “You’re mean Tetsu.” He hears, and then Bokuto’s fingers are 

relentlessly pressing at that spot and Kuroo’s hand speeds up.

“You like it,” Kuroo says.

Akaashi’s hands come up to his shoulders, he’s moaning, and crying out, and Kei feels the way his balls tighten before he spills into his mouth and Kei struggles to swallow. 

It’s lucky he does though, because it's too much, Kei can't think. The next second the coil in Kei’s stomach snaps too, he’s thrusting into Kuroo’s hand, jerky and more than a little desperate, and then Bokuto presses at his prostate again and he’s spilling on the sheets under him, back-arching, lights dance across his vision. He finds himself all but collapsing, thighs twitching, head on Akaashi’s thigh.

He’s lightheaded, breathing hard and fast. Strong arms pull him back over Bokuto’s lap to rest against his warm chest. In turn, Bokuto is leaning against the headboard, breath coming in warm puffs against Kei’s shoulder. “You already look too pretty, Tsukki.” He says and Kei doesn’t have the breath to reply.

Not that he would if he did, the scene in front of him is enough to leave his mouth hanging open. 

Kuroo has Akaashi all but bent in half. One of his forearms keeps Akaashi in position, while he places teasing bites at the younger man’s shapely ass, a finger already knuckle-deep in the other.

He just came, hard at that, but Kei feels himself begin to get hard again. They’re beautiful, Akaashi’s all lean lines, stretched in ways that should hurt but Kei knows they don’t thanks to how much he’s trained. Kuroo’s all tanned skin and rippling muscles, he leans down to press his tongue to Akaashi’s hole and Kei can sympathize with the drawn-out groan that these tears from the younger man.

There’s a small thrust behind him Bokuto grunts against his shoulder. “God, why are you all so hot.” The owl mutters, hands roaming over Kei’s chest, warm and calloused and thick. 

Like all of him, all of him.

Kei’s not that sure how that’s going to go, but at least he is well prepared. With what little space he has, he thrusts his hips back, feeling Bokuto’s hardness rub against his lower back. 

And Bokuto moans. It goes straight to Kei’s dick.

There’s a small growl beside his ear. “Tsukki,” Bokuto says, breathing hard. “You sure?” and there’s so much need in that voice, so much heat, that Kei just nods, suddenly frantic and wanting. 

He lifts his hips with what little strength his legs still hold. Bokuto’s hands help him steady himself and Kei reaches back to line Bokuto’s cock with his hole. “Shh,” Bokuto says, thumbs rubbing soothing circles over Kei’s hipbones. “Go slow.”

And he does, he takes a deep breath and sinks, feeling so absolutely filled and surrounded by heat. Bokuto murmurs sweet things in his ear -some mix of his name and how good, how pretty, how warm he is- and Kei comes apart. 

He moans with abandon as Bokuto bottoms out, legs shaking, his head falls back on the owl's shoulder, mouth seeking the other’s while he adjusts. Bokuto’s tongue invades Kei’s mouth, wet and relentless, searing him, and Kei lets it, he’s soaring he’s- he. “I love you.”  

The words escape his lips against the owl’s, eyes meeting the other’s bronze ones. The hands at Kei’s hips tighten and Bokuto smiles, such a beautiful smile, it takes Kei’s breath away even before he hears the words. “Love you too Tsukki.” Bokuto says.

And then, Kei’s being pushed on his front, a strong hand between his shoulder blades, and Bokuto is railing him, pushing deep and hard and brushing over that spot inside Kei with accuracy that seems unreal.

Kei feels his eyes roll back into his head, his fingertips dig into the sheets trying to find purchase or something to ground him. “Kou- ah, Kou-“ he keens over and over, moaning lewdly, but he’s way past the point of caring.

Something grabs hold of one f his hands, Kei barely manages to open his eyes to meet Akaashi’s lust-filled ones, that close and his face twists into the most exquisite expression when Kuroo enters him.

Their fingers tangle together, and Kei fells heat start to coil low in his belly.

It doesn’t take long from then, seeing Akaashi's body seizing up and trembling, and moaning. And Kuroo with his razor-sharp smirk, stealing the sounds right out of Akaashi’s mouth, teasingly pumping his length until Akaashi is arching into his body, legs pulling him closer.

Kei squeezes hard at Akaashi’s hand when he comes untouched, just as he feels Bokuto groan, and collapse on top of him, breath hot against Kei's neck.

.

.

The world is melting at its edges.

It’s all Keiji can say, after seeing Tsukishima and Bokuto come apart, Kuroo redoubles his efforts, thrusting faster, harder, a hand wrapped around Keiji, driving him to the edge and over with little trouble.

The older man s closer too, Keiji can tell, his thrusts are less rhythmical, he pulls him closer, closer and closer still, wrapping his limbs around him, relishing in the sting of that mouth biting at his shoulder to muffle the sounds of Kuroo’s climax, while Keiji comes apart in his arms too. “I love you.” Barely intelligible against the other’s skin.

He takes a second to get back his breath before movement beside him catches his eye.

The degree of care with which Bokuto scoops Tsukishima up is almost painful to watch. The blond is all but limp in his grasp, long limbs relaxed, and eyes still glazed over, lips bitten red.

He carefully places the blond at the head of the bed and wraps himself around the back of his body, pulling him close.

Kuroo lifts his head to take a look at them again. “Definitely gorgeous.” He says.

And Keiji agrees, love filling him everywhere.

.

.

The seventh of January arrives before any of them realizes. 

One day, Kei is under a pile of blankets, limbs tangled with Akaashi, watching some drama series and he notices the date on the corner of the computer screen.

Ten days have felt like an eternity and also like barely more than a few hours.

He presses himself closer to Akaashi. “I have to pack.”

“I know,” Akaashi says softly, letting Kei burrow his face into his chest. “But at least you don’t have that much.” He laughs. “It’s going to be a lot more stuff in spring, but we’ll come up and help.”

“Thanks.” Kei takes a deep breath. “You’re all going to have to have dinner with my mom before that.” He says. “She’s already suspicious enough. I’d rather it be me that tells her.”

Keiji kisses him then, soft and warm. “Your mom is nice.” He says. “And she’s going to love us, you’ll see.”

And Kei knows it's true.

He doesn’t actually get to packing until late that night, he finds himself leaving the two sweaters he brought anyways, because his boyfriends have provided nice smelling, warm, oversized alternatives of theirs in exchange.

It feels good, it feels like things that last.

They say goodbye to him altogether at the train platform the next day. With the crowd, they can’t really kiss, but Koutarou hugs him so hard he swears he feels one of his ribs crunch. “Bye Tsukki, love you.” 

Keiji holds his hand all the way to the train doors, silent but smiling. 

And Tetsuro kisses him on the forehead when no one is looking. “See you, moonshine.” He says softly.

“See you.” Kei says, feeling light.

.

.

Today is the day.

Keiji tugs at the fabric of his scarf, the material has kept remarkably well despite it being in a drawer in Kei’s house in Miyagi for the past few years.

He asked for it back yesterday after dinner with Kei’s parents -and extended family, seeing as his sister-in-law is six months pregnant and wanted to be there, Keiji has a feeling that very few people can say no to that lady-, only because it felt a little bit poetic to wear it today and, as his partners know, he’s actually a bit of a sucker for things like this.

Bookends, huh?

Beside him, Tetsuro is holding a bouquet, of all things, and Koutarou is somewhere -probably with Hinata- holding a giant stuffed dinosaur.

It is a bit over the top, but then again, they are all excited -Keiji himself has a little box in his hands, a watch-. After Kei went back home for the season to finish his last year of university his absence was more palpable than ever, and though the apartment was no longer permeated by that insidious longing from before, it definitely wasn’t the same.

Even the cats went through a couple of days where they searched for the blond on the bed or the couch.

But they managed, Kei went to Tokyo, they came here -Hinata and Kenma were happy to catsit-, and there were many Skype calls and even a couple of letters.

And now Kei is graduating.

There weren’t enough seats for them all to attend, and then Kei’s parents -and his brother, god, his bother has been an angel- have been quite decent so…

“Hey, they’re coming out!.” Koutarou, who -giant dinosaur and all- has somehow snuck up on him exclaims.

Indeed, people are starting to flit out of the building’s main entrance, the graduates in their black robes. “Do you see him?” he asks.

Koutarou stands on his tiptoes. “Nope.” He turns to Tetsuro. “Bro, lift me.”

Keiji rolls his eyes and Tetsuro laughs. “I’m not sure I can.” He says. “And he’s almost two meters tall, we’ll see him, knowing Tsukki he’s just avoiding the crowd.”

They wait for a bit longer, until a group of very blond heads becomes visible at the building’s entrance, Kei, of course, is instantly recognizable, so much taller than the rest, and blond to boot. 

His eyes search them out, it doesn’t take very long, probably because of the dinosaur.

As he sees Kei approach, face as open as it gets, glowing in a way only they can spot, Keiji can’t help but feel like it’s all going to be alright. There’s an even bigger bed waiting for them at home, the cats have probably already left their hair all over it and none of them would have it any other way.

There are no cherry blossoms blooming here, but as he glances at Koutarou and Tetsuro, seeing the pure love filling their faces he figures they don’t need them.

This is the day the rest of their lives together start.