Chapter Text
If Daichi walked around in only those gray sweatpants one more time, Suga was going to die. That was it. Tell his mother that he loved her, and Oikawa that he could have his Taylor Swift tickets.
Becoming Daichi’s college roommate was a decision that had practically made itself once they realized they’d been accepted to the same school. They didn’t have to worry about getting matched with some random dude with annoying habits or creepy fetishes if they roomed with each other. They had somewhat opposite schedules, which meant that they could each enjoy some alone time in their tiny shoebox of a dorm room.
And if it meant that Suga could indulge in his secret crush, well, that was just icing on the cake.
But he was barely into their second year of rooming together, and that secret crush was going to kill him.
It would only take one more chance encounter with that sharp V of muscle that disappeared into those sweatpants, and Suga would surely spontaneously combust from all the lust coursing through his body.
And the thing was, Suga couldn’t tell if Daichi knew he was killing him or not. His best friend was still adorably (or frustratingly) dense when it came to recognizing other people’s intentions toward him.
That morning, it was more frustrating than adorable.
Suga had woken up first. As he climbed out of his lofted bed, he had made the mistake of glancing over at Daichi’s side of the room. Even though the blinds were drawn, there was still enough early morning light peeking through to illuminate the bed and his roommate’s body sprawled across it. Daichi had clearly rolled around in his sleep; the blankets were in a rope around his legs and his shirt had ridden up, leaving the chiseled planes of his abs and stomach exposed.
And then, the fucker had the gall to moan.
Suga lost his footing on the ladder and barely stopped himself from falling face first onto the floor.
It was just a small growly noise. It was probably a snore. But Suga’s overactive mind happily cataloged it as a sex noise, and he was lost from there.
He’d woken up horny, and that was all he needed to go uncomfortably hard.
His fingers ached to know what it felt like to trace along the ridges and planes of Daichi’s stomach and through the patch of hair just peeking out of the waistband of his sweatpants. Suga ached to know what other sounds he could drag out of the man in doing so.
As quickly and quietly as he could, he gathered up his toiletries and hightailed it to the community showers down the hall before he did something stupid.
This early on a weekend morning, most residents of their dorm were still sleeping off their hangovers, and the bathroom was typically empty. Thankfully, empty was how Suga found it today.
He claimed a shower in the corner, ducking behind the curtain to start the water while he got everything else ready outside. After testing the temperature with a quick swipe of his hand, he stepped in and sighed as the warm water embraced him like a lover. He gave himself a few moments to simply relax under the spray.
For a crappy college dorm, they had surprisingly good water pressure.
He let his mind wander, but no surprise, every mental road led back to Daichi. The way his eyes scrunched up when he smiled. The way he’d pick up spicy mapu tofu on nights when he knew Suga was stressed out over his classes, and they’d stay in, just the two of them, thighs pressed together on Daichi’s bed, snarking cheesy movies. How his thick arm felt around Suga’s shoulders when Daichi pulled him into a half-hug, strong and safe.
And now he was back to thinking about those muscles and the sound he made this morning in his sleep.
Suga’s dick twitched, and he sighed.
It looked like he was going to have to do this.
Again.
It was turning into a habit.
Some people did their best creative thinking in the shower, others challenged their vocal range by belting out Adele, and Suga rubbed one out while imagining his best friend naked. No big.
Squeezing out a dollop of body wash, he started to run his hands over his body. He pretended that it was Daichi there with him, touching him, and he lost himself in a fantasy spun out of the aroma of citrus and cedar and the smooth glide of flesh on flesh.
He came back to himself as he trembled through his climax, biting his fist to keep his cry from echoing throughout the community bathroom.
He was sure that his floormates had gotten up to weirder and grosser things in these stalls, but that didn’t mean he wanted to broadcast what he was up to.
That’s how you got stuck with an embarrassing nickname like Shower Jerker for the rest of your college career. No, thank you.
Now that he’d dealt with his erection, he was free to focus on his normal cleaning routine. No matter how vigorously he scrubbed, he knew he’d never be able to erase the sizzle of guilt beneath his skin.
Just how grossed out would Daichi be, if he knew that he had a starring role in Suga’s fantasies? None of the reactions he could imagine were good. In his mind’s eye, he could see his friend’s face crumpling in disgust, reddening in anger, stretching in horror, or going blank in disbelief.
Even in his imagination, he couldn’t envision Daichi responding with a shy smile or hunger in his eyes.
He couldn’t imagine it because he’d never seen Daichi show romantic or sexual interest in anyone, let alone Suga. He’d never know if he stood a chance if he didn’t figure out where Daichi landed on the giant spectrum of sexuality.
But how to find out?
He could pay random campus hotties to confess to Daichi and see who he shows interest in. But then, what if he ended up dating one of them? Bad plan.
He could just finally make a move on Daichi, make it really obvious so even someone dense like him could realize his feelings. But that was terrifying and had such a low chance of success. Suga wasn’t ready to risk their friendship on that slim possibility.
He was still going over increasingly bad plans in his brain when he returned to their shared room, towel around his hips. He opened the door and got an eye full of a shirtless Daichi pulling on compression shorts for his morning run.
His brain short circuited, and his shower caddy and his sleep clothes clattered to the ground, bringing him back to himself.
It got Daichi’s attention too. He twisted around, asking “You alright?”
Suga tightened his grip on his towel before it fell to the ground, and then cursed his reflexes. Seeing how Daichi reacted to his naked body on display could have been a good way to learn if he’d ever have a chance with him.
As it was, Daichi was looking at him with wide, concerned eyes. He probably thought he was mental, stepping in the door and just dropping everything on the floor.
“Yeah,” he answered weakly. “I just…tripped.” He squatted down to pick up his belongings, not thinking about how the towel was riding up or just how much thigh he had on display because his mind was 100% occupied by the image of Daichi’s backside in those sinfully tight shorts. It was burned into his retinas.
When Suga stood back up, Daichi had put on a tank top and grabbed his Air Pods. “I’m heading out,” he said.
“Have a good run,” Suga said, probably too brightly. He couldn’t take his eyes off those thighs. His traitorous dick stirred under the towel.
“I..uh..” Daichi trailed off, gesturing toward the door. The door that Suga was currently blocking.
“Oh, yep, right, door,” he babbled, moving over to his side of the room.
Daichi, bless him, didn’t comment on Suga’s sudden drop in IQ. He just nodded his way and said, “See you later,” before heading on his way.
Once he was sure he was alone, Suga climbed onto his bed and threw himself down as dramatically as he could without breaking the whole structure. He threw an arm over his face and tried to will away his semi.
There had been days that he’d furiously jacked off while Daichi was at the gym, more days than he’d like to admit, but he’d already done it once that morning in the shower, and he didn’t want to be that desperate.
He knew it was only natural for a healthy young man such as himself, bursting with hormones, self-discovery and the freedom of his university setting, to have regular urges, but he worried it was less natural for those urges to be for his sexually ambiguous friend of three years and counting.
His phone buzzed. He fumbled for it with the hand not covering his face.
Conversation with Prettykawa (◕‿◕✿)
Oikawa: are you still alive? or have you finally died of thirst?
Suga: ha ha ha. it was a close call. i swear he full on sex moaned in his sleep this morning and i almost broke my neck climbing out of bed.
Oikawa: lol forever
Oikawa: i promise to deliver an oscar-worthy eulogy when being dai-chan’s roommate finally kills you
Suga: i will straight up haunt his ass
Suga: my thirst is strong enough to transcend death
Suga: at least then i might finally get to see what he looks like hard
Suga: like you know he’s gotta be huge, right? you’ve seen his everyday bulge
Oikawa: i’ll have you know that we’re not all over here ogling his crotch, kou-chan
Suga: LIAR
Suga: i know you looked
Suga: no one can resist the siren call of those sweatpants
Suga: and he got new compression shorts
Suga: i walked in on him putting them on after my shower
Suga: i made such an ass of myself
Suga: (×_×)
Suga: god kawa
Suga: I want to die being crushed by those thighs
Oikawa: get your thirsty butt down to the caf
Oikawa: we’re brunching in thirty
***
Suga hadn’t even put his tray down on the table before the teasing began.
“I’m surprised you made it,” Oikawa chirped. “How many times did you need to stop to jerk off before you could leave your room?”
“It’s too early for that kind of talk,” Akaashi said flatly, taking a bite of his salad.
“It’s never too early to take an interest in your friend’s life,” Oikawa admonished. “Even for a monster who orders salad at brunch.”
“We all don’t have the metabolism to scarf down milk bread French toast every weekend and still stay in shape,” Suga said, coming to Akaashi’s defense. Even though the crepes had been calling to him, he’d settled for a breakfast bowl. At least it had vegetables in it.
“Now boys, I know you’re jealous of my glorious bod,” Oikawa said, making sweeping gestures with his eating utensil, “but I cannot let that distract us. Kou-chan is in crisis. As his friends, we have to help him, Kei-chan.”
“Ugggh,” Suga said, sinking his face into his hands.
“Dai-chan got new compression shorts,” Oikawa added.
Akaashi hummed in sympathy. He was known to have a weakness for a certain ace’s knee pads.
“I just like him so much. I don’t know what to doooo,” Suga wailed into his hands.
Oikawa rubbed his back. “You’ve come to the right place. The great Oikawa-san is a master of love and romance.”
Akaashi arched a brow at him. “Last I checked, you were still pining away for Iwazumi-san.”
Oikawa coughed, and the tips of his ears turned pink. “Don’t change the subject. We’re here for Kou-chan.”
“I don’t even know if he’s gay,” Suga said, sliding down in his seat until his head rested on the table next to his tray. “He never talks about being interested in anyone romantically. He turned down all of his confessions in high school because he wanted to focus on school and volleyball.”
“Maybe he’s aromantic? Or asexual? Or maybe he’s demi and he just hasn’t found the right person yet?” Oikawa chimed in.
“Have you tried just asking him?” Akaashi said bluntly.
Suga blinked at him. “I…have not,” he said slowly. “But don’t you think it would be weird to bring it up now? ‘Hey, I’ve know you forever, and I was just thinking that I don’t remember you ever talking about your sexual preferences. What are they again?’”
“Just find a better way to ask,” Akaashi replied.
“You might be overestimating our Kou-chan’s capacity for suavity,” Oikawa said with a laugh. “Extreme thirst makes him dumb.”
“He’s not wrong,” Suga muttered, remembering how he’d barely been able to form words that morning. He boinked his head against the table, trying to banish the awkward memory. “It’s like he doesn’t even care that he’s slowly killing me. How does he not realize how lethal his thighs are?”
“Does he even know that you’re gay?” Akaashi asked.
Suga lifted his head up from the table. “I mean, I don’t try to hide it.”
“A straight man would not wear that shirt with those pants,” Oikawa chimed in, gesturing at Suga’s ensemble with his eating utensil.
“But have you ever come out to him?” Akaashi pressed. “This is Sawamura-san we’re talking about. He needs things that like to be spelled out for him. He’s like Bokuto-san in that way.”
Oikawa sent the dark-haired man a sharp smile. “And how is my dear Kou-chan?”
Akaashi returned his look flatly. “He’s fine.”
It was pretty ironic that all of them were pining away for their best friends. Well, Suga thought it was funny. Oikawa and Akaashi got downright prickly about it.
Suga could feel the tension building in the air, and he spoke quickly, hoping to dispel it. “You know, I’ve always found that confusing. He’s Kou-chan. I’m Kou-chan. Your nickname system needs some work.”
“You should be able to tell by the context,” Oikawa snapped back. “Unless you want me to go back to Refreshing-kun?”
“You could just call me Suga like everyone else.”
“I bet that’s not what you want Dai-chan to call you.”
“Oh god, he’s totally the kind of guy to first-name you for the first time during sex, isn’t he?” Suga imagined what his name would sound like, growled out in Daichi’s deep voice, preferably during the throes of passion.
“You’ve been friends for over three years. You haven’t given him permission to call you Koushi?”
Suga stared at Akaashi. “You’re head over heels for Bokuto, and you still use honorifics with him. Don’t think you really have a leg to stand on here.”
“Kou-chan’s secretly a romantic under all that lust,” Oikawa cooed.
“A romantic doomed to die a virgin,” Suga muttered under his breath.
Oikawa gasped, clutching his chest. “You can’t be serious, Kou-chan.”
“I’ve only had eyes for Daichi since freshman year of high school. Not a lot of opportunities for deflowering in middle school.”
“But you don’t need to be in love to have sex. Good sex. Great sex, even.”
“You’ve never…not even once?” Akaashi blinked at him. From the normally reserved man, that reaction was as good as his jaw dropping.
Suga had expected this dramatic reaction from Oikawa, he of the constant flirting and the fan club and the 50,000 follower Instagram, but he had assumed that Akaashi would be in the same boat as him. He didn’t think he’d be throwing him shade as well. “I mean, I’ve been on dates before, and I’ve tried. They just…weren’t Daichi, you know?”
Akaashi nodded, but Oikawa objected. “But you have needs.”
“I jerk off a lot,” Suga mumbled.
“That’s it,” Oikawa said, smacking his hand down on the table. “We’re going out tonight. We’re going to get you laid, Kou-chan.”
“Uh,” Suga sputtered. “I don’t think..”
“No, wait,” Akaashi chimed in. “I think Oikawa-san might be on to something. Invite Daichi-san. You don’t have to actually have sex with anyone, just make it seem like you are. See how he reacts. Maybe he’ll get jealous, and you’ll have your answer.”
“‘Kaashi, you’re a genius,” Suga cried, jumping up from his seat to plant a kiss on his friend’s hair.
“Hey,” Oikawa pouted, “Technically, it was my idea.”
“You’re a genius too,” Suga said, pressing a kiss into his cheek. Oikawa smiled, pacified, and Suga beamed back.
Finally. He had a plan.
He’d finally be taking a step toward finding out if he’d ever have a chance with Daichi. And his friends would be there to help keep tabs on the situation and prevent him from doing anything too stupid.
What could go wrong?