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i. magician
Their height difference is nothing new to Suna - in fact, he dwells on it so much it’s pretty much second-nature at this point, focusing mostly on all the body parts he can rest on Kita’s head (his chin, when he gets tired; his elbow, at an uncomfortable 45º angle just to annoy Kita). He thinks about it when they shower together and and Suna has to practically squat so his boyfriend can wash his hair (he usually ends up kneeling on the floor), when they’re lying on the couch together and Kita’s feet brush his shins, when they kiss and they both must compromise - Suna leans down like a weathered tree as Kita slightly rises onto his toes like a sprouting flower. They meet in the middle. It works.
Suna is also reminded of their difference in stature when Kita asks him to please grab a mug from the top cabinet, as the rest are in the dishwasher. Suna immediately agrees, but as he’s reaching for the mug, mischief tugs at the corner of his lips.
“What makes you think it’ll be so easy, huh?” Suna sniggers as he wraps his fingers around the handle, flashing Kita a toothy grin. He raises the ceramic receptacle into the air, waving it above Kita’s head beyond what he could reach even if he jumped, like one offers a treat to a dog. A very unimpressed dog.
“What are you on about?” Kita asks, eyebrows drawn to the centre of his forehead in confusion. He’s pretty used to Suna’s antics by now, but non-compliance is a first.“You need to say the magic words.” Suna touts in an almost sing-song voice.
“What magic words,” Kita deadpans. Suna is enjoying this. “May I pretty please have the mug?”
“Uhhh…” Suna hadn’t gotten this far in his plan yet. He scrambles to think up the most ridiculous sentence in the world, scratching his head with his free hand. “Um… Suna Rintaro is the - uh - best boyfriend in the whole entire world and I uh…. love him more than - than - than rice!”
“Than rice?”
“Than rice.”
What ensues is a very long (30 seconds approx.) staring contest, with Suna’s honour on the line and Kita unaware they are battling for anything at all.
“But Rin, I don’t love rice.” Kita explains casually, like he’s explaining how the Earth spins or how the seasons change. “And you are the best boyfriend in the world. I think. To me, at least.”
A pang of guilt strikes Suna like lightning when he sees the sincerity in his boyfriend’s clear irises. His expression still bears a confused look to it, what with the furrowed brow and pursed lip, but Kita wasn’t lying when he expressed his feelings towards grains or towards one Suna Rintaro.
He waves the mug a few more times, but the look in Kita’s eyes spells defeat for team Suna, and if he knows anything it is when to quit while he’s ahead.
“Fine,” the taller man sighs as he breaks eye contact, waving his white flag and putting down his ceramic one, offering the mug to his boyfriend without looking at him. “You win. There you go. You’re welcome.”
“Thank you,” Kita says, still somewhat confused as he goes to make his tea.
“You’re no fun,” Suna grumbles under his breath when he thinks Kita is out of earshot. He just wanted to see his cute, short boyfriend jump a little, is that too much to ask?
“What?” Kita’s genuine curiosity makes Suna melt, if the immediate flush of his cheeks and the heat that floods his body is anything to go by. Some of it might be panic, too.
“I just - uh - I wondered if you wanted any gum. Heh . ” The taller of two smiles sheepishly, attempting to hide the slight tremble in his knees.
Kita’s mouth opens like he’s about to reply, but it falls shut once more. “Are you okay?”
The genuine concern in his boyfriend’s voice makes Suna wonder if this is how criminals feel on the stand, staring their victims in the face. He cannot bear to look. “Yeah I’m fine, nothing to worry about, really, I swear! Don’t know what you’re talking about.” He leans an elbow on the cabinet to help support his very believable claim, forgetting that the aforementioned cabinet was open and only realising once he’s falling, blinded by a pain that explodes from his temple when he slams his head into the bottom of the furniture. “Fuck!”
Kita is beside him in a split second, one hand gently cupping his face as the other reaches to give his shoulder a reaffirming squeeze, words flying out of his mouth. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? Is it bleeding? Let me see - ”
“I’m fine,” The taller man huffs a laugh despite the pounding in his craneum, waving Kita’s hands away with another Sheepish Suna Rintaro™ smile.
“No you’re not,” Kita says, leaving no room for comment nor rebuttal. “You’re bleeding.”
“Oh.”
Suna allows himself to be ushered to their bathroom - again, Suna cannot help but notice how Kita sits him on the toilet seat to be able to dress the wound (maybe he could even if he wasn’t sitting down, but having Suna squat seems a bit ridiculous).
The sting of cold water seeping into the open gash elicits a hiss from Suna, who instantly grips onto Kita’s shirt like a lifeline. It’s a medium-sized wound, not too painful, from his hairline to around halfway down his forehead.
“I can’t do this properly if you don’t sit still.” Kita admonishes, dabbing at his forehead with a cotton pad.
“Fine.” Suna pouts (he’s not a child, he swears). “But only if I can get one of the fun plasters. One of the dog ones.” Again, not a child, it’s basic logic - why have plain, boring, brown plasters when you can get funky plasters with tiny dogs printed on them? Plus, they have to use them up anyway - they had been Suna’s idea in the first place, Kita unwilling to spend extra on them (“Rin, they’re plasters, they all do the same job.”) and Suna insisting otherwise (“But babe, the brown ones don’t match my vibe.”). The older man had sighed and shaken his head, pulling the box out of his boyfriend’s hands and putting it in the cart.
Kita raises himself on his toes to reach the top shelf of the bathroom cabinet, and the sliver of exposed skin revealed when his shirt rides up makes Suna’s mouth go dry.
“Magic words?” Kita invites, looking back at Suna with a smirk that doesn’t really reach his eternally kind eyes.
“Please?” Suna replies, unable to hold back a smile with the familiar honey taste creeping its way up his throat and into his mouth. His boyfriend is just the sweetest.
Wait-
Did he just say what Suna thinks he’s said?
“There, all bandaged up.” With the very loud static playing at full volume in Suna’s brain, the middle blocker hasn’t even noticed his boyfriend placing the plaster on his forehead, only barely registering the soft kiss pressed to the top of his head. “No more leaning on open furniture, yeah?”
Suna knows Kita is talking to him, but he can’t really make out the words he’s saying - his brain is currently a broken record, replaying the image of Kita saying ‘Magic words?’ with that damn smirk of his that could bring a man to his knees, over and over and over again.
“Huh?” Suna asks, hazy and unfocused. It’s like he’s hearing everything through cotton.
“I said, no more leaning on furnit --” Kita tries, but something stops him from finishing his sentence. Instead he sighs, brushing Suna’s hair back before pressing a kiss to his hairline. “Just be careful, okay?”
The middle blocker is still shellshocked, and hardly notices the lips on his forehead despite how they always send scattered tingles under his skin.
His boyfriend then turns and leaves (after putting the plasters and cotton back, of course). Just like that. So much for a caring, thoughtful boyfriend - who just gives someone a heart attack and then just leaves?
Even by the time Suna rises from the toilet seat and stumbles out of the bathroom, there’s still ringing in his ears.
ii . long days and even longer nights
Suna closes the door behind himself, slowly pressing it shut to be as quiet as possible. He toes his shoes off before tiptoeing through the pitch-black hallway into the moonlit living room. Huh. That’s odd.
No one’s home.
No matter how much his boyfriend harps on a good sleep schedule being part of a healthy lifestyle, Kita always waits for him to come home. Every single day for the past three years, no matter how tired he was, even if Suna found him asleep on the couch with a dim light on, he’d be there , waiting to give him a kiss before sleepily murmuring “Good night,” against his lips and heading to bed.
Suna’s heart speeds its rhythm, his breathing suddenly picking up as his eyes dart around the empty room. Suna isn’t usually one to jump to irrational conclusions, but he’s exhausted and it’s very late at night and this has never happened before, so logically, his mind runs through all of the worst possible explanations, making anxiety rise like bile in his throat.
A quick survey of the kitchen reveals a tupperware with a sticky note attached on the countertop, but a suspicious lack of grey-and-black-haired farmers. That doesn’t help the growing pit in his stomach, something awful twisting in his gut like a knife. Suna considers grabbing a pan/spatula as a potential weapon, but ultimately decides against it - he’s never been too good at the whole ‘violence’ thing.
With blood rushing in his ears and his own heartbeat as loud as a drum, he takes increasingly fast steps to the bedroom, silently praying that nothing’s wrong. He tries running through his non-existent martial arts skills, or kicking ability, or remembering the last time he got in a fight (once when he was eight) - I’ve got good upper body strength, I should be able to land at least like one good punch - followed by But what if they’ve got a gun you idiot , phone gripped tightly in one hand, emergency number dialed and ready. The door has been left slightly ajar. Suna reaches for the doorknob with a trembling hand that slips around it from the accumulated sweat, wincing how it creaks as it opens, heart beating impossibly fast when he hears rustling from the bed.
“Shin?” He whispers into the dark, but gets no reply. Fuck, fuck, fuck-
He treads into the room and cautiously leaves his bag on the floor, wincing again when the zippers clink together. He whips his head around, breath caught in his throat, but finds no sign of movement.
As if stepping on incredibly thin ice he makes his way to the side of the bed, where a sleeping Kita Shinsuke lays bathed in silver light. The tremors in Suna’s body leave in a rush, the tension released from his muscles as he heaves a relieved sigh, wiping the sweat off his brow. He didn’t want to have to cross ‘fighting trespassers’ off his bucket list.
Suna should be used to the sight by now, but despite it being a daily occurrence, he never fails to be taken aback by the sheer beauty of his boyfriend’s sleeping form. The usually serious man looks like he did when he was seventeen, hair mussed up, his features soft and relaxed, mouth open a fraction - just enough for a little drool to dribble down the side of his cheek. Suna is certain he’s one of the seven wonders of the world.
“G’night love.” Suna murmurs, leaning over to press his lips to Kita’s forehead just barely, trying his hardest not to awaken him.
Kita stirs somewhat, mumbling something under his breath that Suna doesn’t quite catch.
After (quietly, nearly holding his breath) changing into more comfortable clothes, he heads back out the room and into the kitchen, where there is food waiting for him alongside a note.
I’m really sorry I couldn’t wait for you tonight, I was absolutely exhausted. Got these from Osamu today (rice delivery). Hope you enjoy them!
Love, Shinsuke <3
Suna sighs his relief with a smile before digging into his (well-deserved) onigiris.
iii. help
“Shin, fuck , there, oh -”
Kita nods and sinks his teeth into Suna’s shoulder before picking up the pace, fucking into him with renewed vigour, aiming for the spot that sends electricity up Suna’s veins.
Sundays are Suna’s favourite day of the week - not just because his favourite K-drama is on, that too, but because neither of them have work on Sundays, which means spending the entire day joined at the hip. It doesn’t always mean sex - in fact, it usually means Suna hugging Kita from behind as he cooks, or falling asleep on the couch together, or visiting Kita’s grandmother, fingers interlocked while Kita drives with one hand on the wheel.
However, today it did mean sex, Kita’s hand lazily climbing higher and higher Suna’s thighs, pushing up the hem of his shorts. Suna’s eyes darted over to the side, surprised (but not complaining), only to find his boyfriend’s eyes glued to the screen, a faint blush dusting his cheeks, the perfect picture of innocence (as if he wasn’t rock hard and kneading his hand into Suna’s thigh, dangerously close to the edge of his underwear).
“Shin?” Suna says, eyebrow raised.
“Yep?” Kita shoots back, still not facing him. Suna almost (almost! but not quite) misses the tremble in his voice.
“Are you trying to tell me something?” Suna asks, corners of his mouth upturned into an amused smile. It’s not that Kita never initiated - of course he did sometimes, but it was more of the pushing-Suna-up-against-the-door-after-a-night-out variety, slow and sweet and to the point. Kita Shinsuke was a lot of things: rice farmer, occasional volleyball player, good grandson, even better boyfriend, amazing cook - but never a tease. That said, he was also a bit like a dodecahedron - no matter how many times Suna rolled the dice, he always found a new side.
Kita doesn’t even answer - he rolls his head to the side, slightly tilted, pressing his lips together nervously and blinking up at Suna like a child asking for candy.
That small, wild voice inside Suna that suggests things like jumping off the edge of a building and wonders what would happen if he flung his phone onto the train tracks is almost tempted to say no and wait for the reaction he’d get - would he beg? Would he purse his lips and move his hand up higher? Would he hold his breath, waiting on every word out of Suna’s mouth?
Those could happen, sure. But in all likelihood, Kita would move his hand away, apologise for assuming or making him uncomfortable (as if such a thing were possible) and go back to watching the show, a little crestfallen about suggesting something Suna might not have liked. And Suna, a righteous man with unwavering morals, absolutely cannot let that stand.
And that’s how they ended up where they are now, Suna’s legs wrapped tightly around Kita’s hips as the older man thrusts into him in uncoordinated bursts. That’s new too.
Kita, as with everything else he put his mind to (and some things he didn’t), had become good at sex - and by good, Suna means absolutely fucking brilliant. He learnt how to keep up a steady, unwavering pace, pushing up against every one of Suna’s sweet spots, coaxing moans from him until he was a writhing mess on the sheets. So when Kita’s thrusting starts getting erratic and irregular but he doesn’t have the tell-tale look on his face that he’s close to his climax, Suna finds it jarring.
“Shin,” Suna gasps around a whimper, trying very hard to form a coherent thought. “Shin, are you okay?”
Kita stops. Suna inhales sharply at the sudden halt in motion, but his boyfriend is still balls-deep in him, pressed right against his prostate, making just breathing a herculean feat.
“Why do you ask?” Kita raises his head from where it was leaning on Suna’s shoulder, fixing Suna with a concerned look, eyes soft and eyebrows meeting in the center of his forehead.
“Something seemed-- off,” Suna manages, breathing in hard through his nose.
“Oh,” Kita says, seeming pensive for a moment before realisation gleams in his eyes. “I sprained my leg yesterday in the field, and it still kind of hurts.”
The taller’s eyes widen almost comically, mouth dropping open as he’s flushed with shock and concern all at once. “ And you couldn’t have said so earlier? ” For all his boyfriend’s intellect and self-care mantra, he really did contradict himself sometimes.
“I thought it’d be alright.” Kita explains, a lilt of guilt in his voice that tugs at each and every one of Suna’s heart strings. “Does it not feel good?”
“No no no no that’s not it!” Suna hurries to clarify, cupping his boyfriend’s face and brushing the hair away from his eyes. “I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He raises himself on his elbows (in this process, accidentally clenching around Kita, pulling another choked gasp out of him, if a very quiet one).
A few beats of silence pass between them before Kita leans his forehead on Suna’s, closes his eyes, and whispers, “Help me,” into the space between them.
Well then. Suna is nothing if not merciful (kinda, sometimes, but now is not the time to tease), and with a kiss to the bridge his boyfriend’s nose, he uses the leverage he has with his legs and pushes on his boyfriend’s shoulders, flipping them over so the younger of the two is on top, sat astride Kita’s lap, staring down with focused emerald eyes.
The last time Suna rode Kita like this was when he took Kita’s virginity, in a situation not unlike this one; his boyfriend had been pushing into him hard and fast, hitting Suna’s prostate at irregular beats, but Suna wouldn’t have had it any other way, arching his back up and pushing back on Kita’s cock, until -
“Why’d you stop?” Suna asked, confused, swallowing thickly. “Is everything alright?”
“Yeah, just,” Kita began, explaining around heavy breaths. “I know it’s my first time and I’m probably not doing the best job and I want you to feel good and I don’t know how to-”
“Whoa,” Suna interrupted the spiel Kita was on, a bit dismayed. “Don’t know where this is coming from - it feels amazing, Shin. You feel amazing.” And he wasn’t lying. Sure, Suna had had better theoretically speaking, but nothing could beat the satisfaction of knowing he was allowed to share such an intimate moment with someone he loved this much .
“I - I know, just -” Kita’s eyes softened and broke through any opposition Suna could have put up, slicing clean through protest and debate. “Help me,” and then softer, down by Suna’s ear, “Please.”
He probably wasn’t doing it on purpose, the pleading was legitimate, but something about Kita’s voice going up an octave as he begged Suna to let him make him feel good sent blood rushing straight to his dick (and a little to his heart, as it skipped a beat dangerously in his chest).
“Yeah, yeah, alright.” Suna said before flipping them over and riding him so hard he came untouched, shaking on Kita’s cock like an autumn leaf.
Suna, guided by pleasure and muscle memory, raises himself on his knees, before coming back down slowly, hands pressed to Kita’s sweaty abdomen for purchase.
Suna’s breath hitches, as he makes contact with Kita again, and again, and again, gaining speed and confidence as he shifts his hips to find that spot inside him that makes his toes curl and makes him forget his name.
Kita’s hands grip his hips tightly, trying to aid him as best as possible, but his bad leg means he can do little more than observe and take what Suna gives him, mouth wide open as he stains the pillow with sweat and drool.
“Rin, Rin, oh -” Kita gasps, fingers digging into soft skin and sinew when his boyfriend clenches just right around his cock on a downward thrust.
“What, old man?” Suna laughs as best as possible around a moan, breathy and high in his thoat. “You gonna come already?”
Kita tries smiling, but Suna slows down his pace to a halt and squeezes around his cock again, using the opportunity to regain some of his breath. He lifts a hand to slick the curtain of black hair back and away from his forehead, not missing Kita’s sharp inhale when their eyes meet once more - it makes the air in his lungs rush out all at once, chest compressed inwards like he’s been sucked dry, but he’s not about to say so out loud - instead, he smirks, hand still nestled in his hair, and rolls his hips in the way that makes another stuttered gasp tumble out of his boyfriend’s mouth.
“Not until you do,” Kita pants, breathless, corners of his mouth tugging up into a smile.
“You better do something about it,” Suna shoots back, a classic tongue-in-cheek Suna Rintaro™ kind of reply. He’s so sure he’s got him where he wants him now, eyes wide and sparkling as he nods his assent to anything that comes from Suna’s lips, “Yes Rin, I will, whatever you want -” (to be fair, Kita always surpassed expectations, he just had more dignity than Suna’s ego would like to admit)
“I thought,” comes Kita’s serene voice, the calm of it as dangerous as the one before a storm. He leans up on his forearms, the intensity in his eyes threatening to bore holes through Suna. “You were supposed to be doing that.” Kita breaks his gaze to look down at his injured leg and then back up at him.
The taller man blinks twice before realising why he’s here in the first place, sitting astride his perfect boyfriend, cock nestled deep in his ass and thighs burning as he rocks his hips - his perfect farmer boyfriend, his subconscious supplies, and the leg cramp hits him like a tonne of bricks, red flushing up his face and down his chest. “Uh, yeah, right… ” Suna says sheepishly, slightly embarrassed as he scratches the back of his head.
Kita laughs, his genuine laugh like a burbling stream, crystal clear and joyous, breaking through the haze of embarrassment quickly clouding Suna’s mind. Seeing Kita smile like that could dispel any of Suna’s worries instantly, and this was no exception.
Wordlessly, Suna flashes Kita another small smile before concentrating on the task at hand and beginning anew, this time with a fire lit and growing within his stomach, the urge to finish and make his boyfriend come now more present than ever.
He pushes his boyfriend until he’s flat on his back once more and then really picks up the rhythm this time, fucking himself down with renewed vigor, high-pitched mewls and choked moans escaping him every time Kita’s cock slams home. A loud whine of Kita’s name tears out of him when he finally, finally hits his prostate, eyes clenched tight and head thrown back as he aims for that same spot with every move.
“God, Rintaro, you’re gorgeous.” Kita exhales, and if Suna wasn’t exhausted and inches away from orgasm, the adoration in his boyfriend’s eyes might have made him cry.
“Sh- shut up,” Suna pants, slapping Kita’s chest lightly, trying very hard to remember how to put words together. “Flatterer.”
“It’s true,” Kita says, because of course he thinks it is - he is incapable of speaking anything but the absolute truth.
Suna feels his purchase on Kita’s torso slipping the more they move, both their bodies covered in a sheen of sweat and Suna’s achingly hard dick dripping precome onto Kita’s abdomen, but as he scrambles for a stable hold to aid his momentum, he takes notice of the burning in his thighs - and not the good kind. Usually, Kita helps, thrusting up as Suna rocks down, guiding him with his strong beefy arms so most of the effort doesn’t fall on Suna alone - however, he now feels the consequences of this solo journey he’s embarked on, and the near-unpleasant ache in his muscles makes trying to go harder almost unfeasible.
He’s so tired (when it’s the other way around, how does Kita do this for so long?) but he pushes through if only for the little gasps and choked moans emanating from Kita’s mouth with every roll of his hips down.
Another whine escapes him almost without him realising. Kita, Boyfriend of the Year 2021, has come to his rescue just when the world needed him the most - he’s got a hand playing with Suna’s nipple, teasing the bud and squeezing, and the other wrapped around his - until now untouched - cock, stroking him fast and twisting his hand just right, curling on the upstroke and squeezing at the base .
“Fuck,” Suna groans for what must be the millionth time, slumping forward slightly. “I’m going to come, I’m so close, I’m so so close Shin ,”
“Come on,” Kita encourages, “You’ve done so well.”
Suna doesn’t need anything else: he uses all his remaining strength to rock his hips once, twice, three times, before he feels fire licking up his veins and another scream rips its way out of his throat as he spills all over Kita’s hand and chest, some of it reaching his chin, and the sight could make Suna hard again if he hadn’t just come.
Kita allows him no respite - he loops the hand that was on his nipple around Suna’s neck and pulls him down to kiss him, open-mouthed and sticky and messy as he yelps (Suna isn’t entirely sure whether it’s the orgasm or the cramp), gives an aborted thrust upwards that sends tremors of pleasure and pain from Suna’s overstimulated prostate, and reaches his climax.
“‘M so tired.'' Suna mumbles afterwards, lying on his boyfriend’s chest, head tucked under his chin.
“You’re a professional volleyball player.”
Suna pointedly ignores this. “Don’t get used to this.”
Kita laughs softly. “Thank you.”
“No problem,” Suna grumbles into his neck. “Just - warning next time. Don’t attempt sex if you’re injured.”
iv. love comes in all shades (of pink)
Focus, focus, focus... their ace hasn’t spiked the ball in a while, but the setter has had his eye on that one middle blocker for a while, and it would be objectively for him to hit it right now, meaning the ball is going - there!
“And EJP Raijin’s number 7 successfully blocks another ball! Ladies and gentlemen, Suna Rintaro is on a roll, shutting the other team out for the fourth time consecutively!”
Suna’s eyes lock with the opposing team’s middle blocker, who narrows his eyes at him with a mix of anger and frustration as they both wipe the sweat off their foreheads. It’s a look Suna is accustomed to, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t send a rush of satisfaction down his spine. He offers the other man a sly smirk, before having it wiped off his face when his breath is suddenly cut off.
His teammates clap him heavily on the back, showering him with praise, which would be fine until Komori slings an arm around his shoulder and all but wraps it around his neck, aiding to his general suffocation, even as Suna laughs and tries to cough out a “Thank you,” and “Can’t breathe”.
“ Whoooo! Nice block Rin !” Comes the shout from the stands, breaking through the suffocation-induced haze. He whips his head around as best as possible, attempting to push Komori’s strong arm off his shoulder, and sure enough, Kita Shinsuke stands in the first row, hands cupped around his mouth. Suna feels one of the cogs in his brain halt, a special kind of warmth flooding his veins and filling his head with fuzz as his world singles down to his boyfriend, tunnel vision focused on the immediate deep blush that rushes to his cheeks when they lock eyes, smiling sheepishly and turning away. All while wearing Suna’s jersey.
The particular shade of red gives Suna whiplash, as the middle blocker is brought back 6 years to a sunny morning in Hyogo in a flurry of red and pink and black and white.
“I- I’m going to miss you guys so much! I can’t imagine what it’s going to be like with- withous yuguysdbhekvj- ” Atsumu cries incoherently, breaking into uncontrollable sobs as he wraps his arms around both Aran and Kita while attempting to reach Akagi, who quickly steps back, using his libero reflexes to stay out of Atsumu’s reach.
“It’s not like we’re dying Atsumu,” Aran reprimands him, hitting his junior on the head.
“I know but -” Atsumu says between sniffles, attempting to speak around the evident knot in his throat. “But I’m going to miss you guys so much.”
“Let them go, dumbass.” Osamu grumbles under his breath, pulling (or attempting to) pull Atsumu away by the back of his collar. “You’re going to ruin their uniform!”
“It’s okay,” comes Kita’s soft voice, straightening his jacket once Atsumu lets go. He reaches a hand up to ruffle the blonde curls with a kind smile. “I’m glad you appreciate us this much.”
Akagi leaps out from behind Aran and Kita to sling an arm around Atsumu’s shoulder, rubbing the top of Atsumu’s head with his knuckles. “Plus, we’re still going to come visit! You won’t get rid of us that easily!”
To Osamu and Aran’s dismay, and everyone else’s amusement, the third years’ attempts to cheer Atsumu up only served to destabilize him even further, lip quivering for a few short seconds before bursting into tears all over again, clinging to the three graduating boys once more.
Suna laughs as he observes all this go down through his phone’s camera, making sure to zoom in on Atsumu’s blotchy, teary face as he weeps about “Volleyball never being the same,” and “Making shrines for all of them”.
Kita whips his head around slowly, making eye contact with the camera, and once he notices he’s being recorded, his cheeks dust the faintest shade of pink as he breaks into a grin. Suna’s heart skips a beat. He lowers the phone to observe the third years with his own eyes now, a knot twisting in his gut and not just because of their departure.
He had practised in the mirror and promised himself (and Atsumu and Osamu and Ginjima over the group chat, receiving encouraging messages from the latter two and a bunch of funny/pervy stickers from the former) that it was now or never, all or nothing - and yet when push came to shove, he found himself rooted to the ground, unable to move despite willing his legs as hard as possible, a deer caught in the headlights of Kita’s smile.
He plays it all out in his mind - all the times that have given him hope, the constantly asking him to stay behind with Kita when he cleans up after practice, the constantly asking if he’s feeling okay when he gets tired, the time Suna complained his hands were cold and Kita took them between his own and breathed on them to warm them up - before his subconscious crushes his fledgling dreams, insisting he’s looking too far into things, it’s never going to happen, how would he ever be into a guy like Suna Rintaro, does he even like people-
“Go on,” Ren’s deep voice murmurs in Suna’s ear, making the younger man jump in surprise, nerves already on edge. “You only get this chance.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Suna shoots back, turning his head away.
“I know a thing or two,” Ren starts again, smile evident in his voice. “And I think you’ll be fine.”
Suna hasn’t interacted with Ren much before - he was quiet and reliable and quite close to Kita, as evidenced by Atsumu’s belief that they’re “ ‘totes married dude”.
“But what if -” Suna starts, now allowing the fear and anxiety he’d bottled and pushed down into his stomach bubble up his throat, twisting deep in his gut, fraying every nerve in his body. Ren chuckles to himself, deep and full in his chest.
“Shhh, no buts,” the older boy says, offering an encouraging push to his kouhai, who stumbles forward before nearly tripping on his own feet. “He doesn’t bite.”
I know that much, Suna thinks to himself, but shakes his head anyway in an attempt to clear the anxiety clouding his mind. He walks almost in a trance, barely registering the twins' antics nor Aran’s annoyed yelling before he suddenly finds himself standing before his (ex)captain, gazing down at him with unfocused eyes.
“Oh! Hi, Suna.” The older boy greets him with his familiar honeysuckle smile, and Suna has to do everything in his power not to melt.
Suna takes a deep breath, steeling himself with his eyes closed. He doesn’t bite, he doesn’t bite, he doesn’t bite. When he opens them again, everything is clear as day, and he almost loses himself in the stray hairs on Kita’s forehead that he’s just itching to brush away.
“Kita-san,” he says, shaky yet determined. If he doesn’t rip the band-aid off now, he might fall apart in an entirely different manner. “Can you come with me for a moment?” He breathes hard like he’s just finished a match before he remembers his manners. “Please.”
The older boy blinks a few times, seemingly startled, before nodding, smile ever present on his sunshine face.
The others don’t seem to have noticed, making it easier for the both of them to slip away from the crowded courtyard, though when Suna whips his head around for a second, Osamu shoots him a subtle thumbs up and mouths ‘You got this’. Suna swallows thickly.
Suna leads his senior behind the school to a smaller area hidden amongst the tall buildings. They’re far away from everyone else, Suna has made sure, the rest of the school only barely in earshot.
“So?” Kita asks, expectant but never urgent, never patronising, just genuinely curious. “What’s this all about?” He asks with a laugh.
The younger boy has to shake his head again to remind himself why he’s here in the first place, but Kita is hardly ever in such a good mood and his laughter rings like bells in Suna’s ears, drowning out the rest of his thoughts.
“I, uh -” for a moment, Suna feels like he does when he’s reading an opponent’s next move - everything feels too loud and too quiet at once, he’s painfully aware of all of his surroundings and yet the edges of his vision blur more and more the longer he’s concentrating, world reduced to a dizzying tunnel vision but his sight is clearer than ever. Every breath matters. Every joule of energy he channels into his muscles matters. And just as the person on the other side of the net is about to spike, when he’s correctly guessed who and where and he’s preparing for the jump, a thrill of excitement and satisfaction and an insane amount of pressure crushes his chest and he forgets how to breathe for a single second - “I like you, Kita-san.”
And then Suna is witness to the most beautiful sight he’s ever been lucky enough to lay eyes upon. He will thank the Gods every day for granting him such a vision until the day he dies.
Kita’s eyes widen, his breath stutters in his chest, and then his cheeks flush the brightest shade of pink Suna has ever seen, rivalling the cherry blossom petals that float around them like it’s a damn shoujo anime. To be fair, Suna had never seen his captain blush before. Suna’s brain shortcircuits at the sight of The Kita Shinsuke being flustered, his perfect lips separated ever so graciously when his mouth falls open, and despite how many times he blinks slowly, nothing stops Suna from noticing how the older boy’s pupils grow.
“Oh.” is the first thing out of Kita’s mouth, and Suna feels his heart falter, about to jump down into the pit of his stomach from its place in his throat. “But I’m graduating, Suna.”
That’s not a no, Suna thinks, both a fact and a great aid for self-conviction. “Don’t you think I know that? That’s why I’m here.”
Suna takes a tentative step forward, and Kita doesn’t step away. Good sign. Suna drops his gaze, slightly embarrassed about the corniness building up inside of him, threatening to leave through the space between his teeth. “I couldn’t bear to see you go and not tell you.”
Suna can’t see Kita’s reaction, but he can see when a calloused yet delicate hand wraps around his wrist, and he wonders whether it’s for reassurance or as an anchor to steady himself. Either way, it doesn’t fail to send chills down Suna’s spine, and he hopes to whoever’s listening that this isn’t a rejection because he’s at his wit’s end.
“I…” Kita begins. Suna doesn’t miss the tremble in his voice. “I like you too, Suna.” The younger looks up then, meeting Kita’s gaze straight on, something awful and wonderful wrapping around his ribs and constricting his throat, his heart about to beat itself out of his chest. The entire world stills, and the knot in his stomach gets tighter and tighter and tighter until it releases, leaving a wonderful emptiness in its wake. “But -”
“But what?” Suna counters, a little too animated as he takes another step forward. He’s waited - no - hoped, ached, for this for too long.
“But I’m leaving, and you’ll be in your last year of high school, and I’m going to be a farmer. I can’t see this working out easily.” Kita’s tone is calm and collected, as always, Suna doesn’t miss the lilt of disappointment in his voice either. Kita is right though, and the sobering weight of the truth is the needle that bursts their ephemeral bubble of happiness.
“We haven’t even tried.” Suna mumbles, taking Kita’s other wrist in his own hand with trembling fingers.
“I’m just being logical.” Kita offers, almost like an apology. That’s just so you, Kita-san, Suna thinks, fondness and sadness welling up in his eyes.
They stand like that in silence, staring at their shoes, for a moment that stretches forever, before some light slips through the cracks in Suna’s darkening mind, a ray of sunlight in the cloudy gloom.
“What if…” he starts, facing Kita once more. “What if we wait?”
“What?”
“I…” Suna takes another deep breath and hopes he doesn’t jumble up his words, all racing to come out first and lift the new weight placed on both their chests. “I really like you. Like a lot. Even the twins know.” Suna giggles at the near-comical surprise on Kita’s face, but every constriction of his lungs hurts. He’s almost breathless. “And I have for a very long time. What’s another year? We have the rest of our lives after that.”
The older boy’s expression changes completely - Suna guesses he’s not used to being on the other end of a genius idea.
“Okay,” Kita agrees simply, slowly, after a couple minutes where Suna could see the cogs in his captain’s brain turning, trying to find hitches in the plan. “We wait.”
Suna’s heart swells once more, chest almost puffed in his glee, an unstoppable bright smile spreading across his face, almost rivalling Kita’s. He’s sure the butterflies in his stomach might just burst out of his abdomen. He takes one final step forward, until their chests are nearly pressed together and the only way for them to face each other is for Suna to bend his neck down and Kita to crane his neck up. Whenever Suna breathes, the hair on Kita’s forehead billows slightly, and Suna has to bite his lip to keep himself from screaming.
“Well, Kita-san -”
“Call me Shinsuke.”
Suna’s mouth goes dry. He tries to say it, but the word feels too big in his mouth and his tongue can’t seem to shape around the syllables properly, the magnitude of it weighing heavy on his lips.
“Well, Kita-s - Shinsuke. You said you liked me.” Suna teases with a smirk he doesn’t feel confident enough to be sporting.
“Yes, I did.” Kita agrees, his pearly whites beaming up at Suna, the gleam in his eyes so bright that Suna might just be blinded by his overall radiance . “I like you, Suna Rintaro.”
“Say it again,” Suna murmurs, closing his eyes and leaning down. He really really really hopes he’s reading this moment right.
Any other person might have chuckled, or slapped Suna’s arm and teased him back, called him a narcissist or flipped him off, but Kita can’t lie and is incapable of refusing a kind request. “I like you, Rintaro.”
The kiss is short and sweet and Suna absolutely does not feel tears rolling down his cheeks. It’s not his first kiss by any means, but it is Kita’s, and it’s the only one that’s ever mattered. A cherry blossom petal finds its way down his shirt collar, but he can’t feel how it tickles when Kita Shinsuke’s lips are on his and pure unbridled joy sweeps through his body like a tidal wave. He just might die. At least he’d die a happy man.
“Thank you,” Kita murmurs, polite as ever. He reaches a thumb up to wipe the tears off Suna’s face, but doesn’t comment on it.
“You’re welcome,” Suna replies, trying as hard as possible to keep his voice smooth and not just - scream. “Would you like a repeat demonstration? They’re for free.”
Suna’s a jackass, he knows this, he’s a complete idiot but he’s in love and Kita probably doesn’t know better, just nods his enthusiastic consent before he wraps his arms around Suna’s shoulders and pulls him down until their lips meet again, and again, and again.
A year later, Suna spots Kita outside the graduation assembly hall and runs into his arms (which have gotten significantly bigger after just one (1) year of farming), peppering kisses all over his face before kissing him square on the mouth like a man starving, uncaring for the twins’ yelling “Get it Suna!” and “Suna you horndog, defilin’ the captain in public!” nor the surprised onlookers staring because they’re still young and in love and Kita waited - painfully, painstakingly waited, as did Suna, but now the floodgates are open and they’re both adults and it’s still complicated but at least they have something.
“Yo, you okay?” a deep voice rumbles, slowly breaking the moment and pulling Suna back into the present.
“Hellooo? Earth to Suna Rintaro?” Komori shakes him back and forth, gripping his shoulders. “Buddy, where are you? The timeout’s almost over!”
The world is brought into painful focus, the glaring lights of the gym suddenly too bright and the crowd too loud. Suna is suddenly filled with purpose.
“Just - just give me a moment. There’s something I need to do.”
His teammates blink at him and they’re left gaping at him as Suna rushes off the court.
“It’s those damn jelly things he eats. They’re messing with his brain, I swear,” He hears Washio sigh.
Suna’s legs burn as they’re halfway through the fourth set already, but he doesn’t let them stop him from reaching the stands, where his boyfriend shoots him a perplexed look.
“Rin, what are you doing here, the match-” He never gets to finish his sentence, the tall middle blocker having grabbed his cheeks and smushed their lips together in a semblance of a kiss. It’s quick and messy and middle-school-y but Suna felt he might have died if he didn’t satisfy the urge in his veins to just get close to his boyfriend, to make as many of their atoms meet as possible - if he could, Suna would melt into Kita and disappear.
“Rintaro, what -” Kita sputters, brow furrowed in confusion.
“I love you.” Suna smiles at him like he’s hung the moon before kissing him again and rushing back to his teammates, barely aware of the commentators gushing about the “sudden and unexpected display of affection from the usually cold middle blocker” and his entire team looking at him like he’s grown a new pair of arms.
All he cares about, as he looks back at his boyfriend, is the deep flush of red on his face, visible even from where Suna stands.
(If Suna had looked at himself in the replay screen, he’d have noticed his cheeks are the same colour too).
v. the marshmallow incident
As soon as Suna lays eyes on her, he knows he’s fucked.
Her soft cries draw his mind out of his thoughts on his way home from practice, stopping dead in his tracks and straining his ear to attempt to hear her again - he isn’t sure if he’s heard right, and he wanted to make absolutely sure.
When the whining starts again, there is no doubt about it - there is a kitten somewhere calling out for help, and if Suna has any weaknesses, one of them is for sure a love of small animals.
(When asked to comment on this by his former teammates, he simply explained that big animals were intimidating and messy, but the small ones were perfectly pocket-sized, making them convenient (and cuter). Atsumu, with his love of big dogs, was ready to fight him over this.)
He follows the desperate mewling all the way to a back alley, where the animal’s whining echoes off the dirty brick walls. As he closes in on a dumpster can, the sound gets exponentially louder, until finally he reaches the source - a tattered cardboard box containing a blue rag and one small grey kitten.
“Awwww, poor baby,” Suna whispers, moving the trash can out of the way and crouching down close to the box. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.”
He tentatively places his hand in the box. The kitten seems to calm down as it senses the middle blocker’s presence, looking up at the human with its big blue eyes.
Rintaro, don’t, you know better than this , Suna reprimands himself, shaking his head.
The kitten presses her tiny paws against his fingers, testing the waters, before eventually climbing onto his hand. Concern about her scratching Suna and possibly infecting him flashes briefly in Suna’s mind, and he sighs to himself with the weight of realisation - The responsible thing to do is to take her to a vet and leave her there, they’ll know what to do.
As Suna raises the little ball of fluff to his face for closer inspection, he realises a) that she’s a female (or so he thinks) and b) that her fur is actually white and not grey, she’s just covered in grime and filth.
“You poor thing,” Suna coos, using his knuckles to rub her from her head to the end of her spine. She’s also greatly malnourished. “Someone awful did this to you, but it’s over now, yeah? I’m going to take you to the vet, and they’re going to take good care of you, hmm?”
The kitten looks at him again with almost pleading eyes, round and big and blinking a few times, tugging at Suna’s heartstrings and tearing through his resolve with every second they hold eye contact. “None of that now,” Suna argues with the cat. “I can’t possibly take you home - I haven’t told Shin, and I don’t know where we’d keep you, and I don’t know how Shin even feels about cats -”
The animal blinks up at him once more, head tilted slightly to the side. “Don’t look at me like that.” Suna reprimands softly. “I’m really sorry, but this just isn’t going to work out.”
Suna is absolutely resolute about taking her to a vet and leaving her there, running through the entire list of arguments against keeping her and pointedly ignoring the solutions he comes up with -
Until the kitten starts nuzzling his hand and purring contentedly.
Suna breaks.
“I’m home!” Suna calls, toeing his shoes off.
“Welcome back,” Kita says softly as he crosses the room. He kisses Suna’s cheek with a smile, before realising that there’s an object between them.
“Rin,” Kita begins, eyebrow raised. “Why are you carrying the picnic basket?”
Upon entering his car, Suna realised that he had nowhere to put the cat, and front seat with a seatbelt - despite being hilarious - probably wasn’t the best option. He rummaged through the trunk until he laid his eyes upon the picnic basket they’d used last time they had been on a picnic, which they had forgotten to take out of Suna’s car. It was a little bigger than cat-sized, but it should work.
“Okay, look, I have a really good explanation for this, just hear me out -” Suna tries, but before he can even begin to explain himself, a muffled soft mewl comes out of the basket, stunning both men into silence.
“Suna Rintaro.” Kita’s voice goes low - he’s not upset, merely concerned. Suna knows this but it still chills him to the bone, just as it did when he stepped on the court all those years ago. Kita’s unwavering boldness never failed to put people in their place, even if he didn’t mean to. “There isn’t a cat in there, right?”
Everything Suna was going to say, his whole rehearsed explanation and 20-slide powerpoint presentation leave him in a rush when he sees the look on his boyfriend’s face. There’s no arguing with that. With a dejected sigh, he opens the lid of the basket, revealing the kitten, curled up in a ball.
Kita dips his hand in the basket and pulls her out, gently resting her in his palm. “We can’t keep it Rin, and you know that.”
“Why not?” Suna asks, careful to keep his tone steady. “We’ve got more than enough space for her.”
“But we’re never home.” Kita argues back. Suna stopped thinking Kita was a robot a long time ago, his shaking shoulders and quiet sobs when he was given his captain jersey more than enough proof that he had some degree of human emotion - and over the years, the notion’s been dispelled completely. Suna has learnt that it’s not that his boyfriend doesn’t have/is incapable of emotion, he just keeps them in check most of the time. However, a fledgling thought in that vein that had laid dormant now lingers at the edge of his mind - how could someone be petting the most adorable little ball of fluff in the world and not want to keep it? That surely can’t be human.
“But we are on the weekends, and there’s so much room for her to play here! We live In The Middle of Nowhere, Hyogo - you can’t deny that she’ll be happier here than in some cramped apartment in the city.” Suna pleads, hoping his arguments will knock some sense into the other man.
“I don’t know, Rin…” Kita sighs. The uncertainty in his voice is almost enough to make Suna crumble, even though he knows his boyfriend is trying his hardest not to hurt his feelings. “I’ve never been too good with animals, and this is so sudden…”
Despite his previous statement, Kita seemed to be fairing just fine, dangling his fingers in front of the cat for her to reach for with her paws.
Suna doesn’t want to keep pushing his luck. “Don’t worry, I get it. We have to take her to the vet in the morning anyway.”
Kita offers him and apologetic look, and Suna can’t help but get behind Kita and kiss the top of his head.
“I’m sorry,” Kita murmurs. “I know you want to keep her.”
“It’s alright,” Suna offers, head nestled in the crook Kita’s shoulder as they both look at the kitten together. Suna glances up at his boyfriend’s face, and for a moment where he must be dreaming, he thinks he sees a flicker of sadness dance across it.
Sunday morning. Suna’s favourite. He stretches out his arms over his head, smiling when he feels the early morning sunlight on his face. With a yawn, he rolls over, trying to find the warmth of his boyfriend beside him as usual, since most days they’re out of bed at the same time - Sundays are the only days they can laze around in bed with each other. Finding the other side of the bed cold and empty shocks Suna out of his sleep-addled haze.
He throws the sheets off and all-but stomps down the hall, ready to demand an explanation for why he was deprived of his early morning cuddles, until -
“Hey there little one,”
Suna stops dead in his tracks. He plasters himself against the wall of the hallway, holding his breath as he turns his head towards the source of the noise.
“You’re so cute, aren’t ya? Who’s the cutest wittlest baby? You are, yes you are -”
No.
This isn’t happening.
Suna’s palms twitch as he resists the urge to slap himself awake. He must still be dreaming, that’s the only logical explanation as to why Kita Shinsuke is in their living room right now, playing with a kitten and using baby talk with it.
He slowly approaches, making sure his footsteps are as soundless as possible, before he peeks out the doorway and sees his prayers answered - there his boyfriend is, crouching down in his sleep shirt and boxers, playing with the kitten and calling it all sorts of adorable names.
Suna’s phone sits heavy in his pocket, the lightbulb in his brain pinging as it lights up and he takes his phone out.
He presses record and watches the scene unfold from his screen, heart growing ten sizes and chest flooding with warmth every time Kita laughs or calls the cat something embarrassing like “sweety little peachy pie”. He zooms in on Kita’s smiling face, on his shining eyes and the way his calloused fingers tenderly run through the soft white fur.
Suna’s thumb hovers over the send button for the old Inarizaki group chat - but he ultimately decides against it; some things he prefers to keep to himself. He also questions whether or not to tease his boyfriend about it - it’s no secret that he’s always wanted to catch his boyfriend off-guard like this, and Suna would die for the flush on his cheeks as he denies any and all accusations of going soft on the cat - but it might also make him put his guard up, and that helps no one.
“She’s cute, huh?” Suna asks instead, voice low - it’s too early, and he doesn’t want to startle the cat.
“I have to admit, she really is.” Kita replies without looking up, stroking the kitten as it continues to purr and rub up against his hand.
Suna crouches down beside the other man, and they pet the cat together. “Shame we have to take her to the vet. And then to a shelter. It’s a pity.”
Kita stops his ministrations to the cat to look directly at Suna with a knowing expression. “I know what you’re doing.”
Suna leans forward to rub their noses together like the sly dog he is. “Okay,” he murmurs into the space between them, resting their foreheads together. “But is it working?”
Kita hesitates for a moment, eventually sighing, “...yes.”
Suna rejoices with a grin, pressing his lips to Kita’s properly, slotting together perfectly, as they always do.
“We should name her Marshmallow.” Suna suggests on the drive back home.
“If you want.” Kita says, flashing him a smile and lacing their fingers together in his lap.
vi. acceptance
Every time Suna sees Kita leave for the fields in the morning, or come and kiss him good night, or make green tea in a specific way, his way, or stare at him all confused because he doesn’t get a joke Suna’s made, or fix Suna a look of pure adoration just because Suna has made dinner even if it’s a bit burnt, he doesn’t just realise, he knows - he loves Kita Shinsuke just as he is, and he wouldn’t have him any other way.