Chapter Text
“You want to know what your problem is, Tsuki-shima?” Hinata says, hiccupping as he swings around in his barstool. Hinata’s flushed face is dimly lit by the club’s colorful lights and he’s leaning too far into Tsukishima’s personal space.
“No,” Tsukishima replies calmly. He adjusts his glasses and waits for Hinata to continue anyway.
“You’re too negative,” Hinata slurs. “You’re always saying Hinata, don’t do this, don’t do that. Hinata, stop giving strangers my number. Hinata, don’t puke on my sneakers. Hinata, get your own place and stop sleeping on our couch.”
Tsukishima scowls at Hinata and tightens his grip around his glass. “Valid complaints.”
Hinata sways slightly and giggles before taking another sip of his drink. Someone should really cut him off before he ends up puking on Tsukishima’s shoes again.
“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Hinata demands, laughing gleefully as he leaps off his stool and tugs Kageyama towards the dancefloor. “C’mon, we’re here to have fun.”
“Hinata, no,” Kageyama hisses as Hinata drags him further into the crowd.
“Hinata yes,” Hinata snickers.
“Just so you know, I blame you for this,” Tsukishima tells Yamaguchi who looks appropriately guilty. “I should have stayed home.”
“Tsukki-,” Yamaguchi starts but Tsukishima cuts him off with a glare.
“It’ll just be the two of us, you said,” Tsukishima mocks. “We’ll just grab a bite to eat, you said. Somewhere quiet. Just like old times.”
Yamaguchi sighs and folds his hands in front of him. “I’m sorry. I had to do something. You hardly leave our apartment anymore, except to go to your classes.”
“That’s not true,” Tsukishima scoffs. He twirls his glass in his hand. “Just because we’ve been spending less time together ever since you and Yachi started dating-”
He also spends a lot of time at the library or the campus coffee shop, if only to avoid being the happy couple’s third wheel.
Yamaguchi makes a pained noise. “And we’ve told you several times that you’re welcome to hang out with us whenever.”
“Gee, Tempting. I think I’ll have to decline your generous offer, though.”
“Tsukki-”
“I’m fine,” Tsukishima argues. And really, he is. He doesn’t attend parties or go out on Friday nights but he’s busy. With homework.
“You’ve been marathoning nature and animal documentaries for the past few months,” Yamaguchi counters. “And- and you don’t even like sweets that much but a week ago went through an entire carton of ice-cream in a day.”
“I’m fine,” Tsukishima insists, yelling over the obnoxious pop music.
“Tsukki,” Yamaguchi groans. He bites his lip as he places a hand on Tsukishima’s shoulder.
Tsukishima bristles at his expression of concern. He doesn’t need Yamaguchi’s pity. “I didn’t invite you here to argue, Tsukki. I just thought it might be good for you if you went out and socialized every once in a while.”
“Technically, you didn’t invite me,” Tsukishima snaps. He flags down the bartender for another drink. “You tricked me into what appears to be an intervention.”
Yamaguchi gapes at him, a red flush spreading along his neck as he stares. Yamaguchi hates confrontation and Tsukishima knows it. Throwing up his arms in surrender, Tadashi makes a noise of disgust.
“Fine, Tsukki. Do what you want,” Yamaguchi huffs, shaking his head as he jumps off his stool. “I’m going to find Hinata before he does anything stupid. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”
Good, Tsukishima thinks stubbornly as he watches Yamaguchi disappear into the crowd. Yamaguchi should know better than to pull something like this. Now Tsukishima’s stuck at one of the tacky local clubs that smell like beer and only plays vapid, raucous music. His fingers itch to pull out the headphones buried in his pocket.
Tsukishima scans the dancefloor, already ready to surrender and beg Yamaguchi to drive him home when he someone else catches his eye. The guy’s silver-grey hair is slicked back in a way that would look ridiculous on anyone else but somehow he pulls it off confidently. It’s either a trick of the light, or the guy’s eyes are a vivid shade of amber. The man curls his arms protectively around the waist of whoever it is he’s dancing with (Tsukishima can’t see his partner), an unabashed look of joy on his face as he dances. Tsukishima’s certain that the man’s pants, which cling lewdly to his muscular thighs, shouldn’t be legal.
The two break apart, leaving the man Tsukishima had been admiring alone on the dance floor. Tsukishima’s unsure what happened to his partner until he feels a sudden tap on his shoulder.
“Like what you see, huh?” someone purrs. The man’s partner, Tsukishima realizes. Tsukishima blinks rapidly and slowly takes in the man in front of him.
Shit. His partner’s equally as attractive, because of course. His lips are spread in lazy yet predatory grin and his hair is styled into a look that resembles bedhead, but Tsukishima’s willing to bet the guy had put ample effort into looking effortlessly good.
“Relax, kid,” he snorts, noting the way Tsukishima’s stiffened in his seat. “Nothing wrong with appreciating pretty things, is there?”
He gives Tsukishima a sly look that immediately puts Tsukishima on edge. “I wasn’t looking,” Tsukishima lies through his teeth.
The guy slides into the stool next to him and cocks his head to the side. “No? That’d be a shame,” he says, leaning into Tsukishima’s space deliberately. Tsukishima feels the heat of the other man’s breath on his cheek. “Because we’ve been looking at you, Glasses-kun.”
“It’s Tsukishima,” Tsukishima corrects automatically.
“Tsukishima,” he repeats, pressing his thigh against Tsukishima's as he lets the name roll of his tongue. Tsukishima blushes as if he’d said something inappropriate rather than just his name. “I like it. I’m Kuroo. And the guy you weren’t checking out,” he says with a wink, “is Bokuto.”
“Hey, hey, hey, who is this, Kuroo?” Bokuto asks, pouting as he drops onto the other stool next to Tsukki.
“Nobody,” Tsukishima blurts. He glances between them in suspicion. Where the hell was Yamaguchi? “I was just-” leaving, he goes to say.
“Going to settle a bet for us,” Kuroo finishes. He runs his fingers through his hair and smirks down at Tsukishima.
Bokuto tilts his head to the side, his thick eyebrows drawing together in confusion as he looks Tsukishima over. “Which would that be? The one about who would win in a fight, a dragon or a shark? Or-”
Kuroo rolls his eyes and ignores their confusion. “You see, Tsukishima, my boyfriend and I have always disagreed about which of us is a better lover.”
Bokuto slaps his palm against his thigh and offers them both a pleased grin. "Oooh, that bet."
Tsukishima gulps and curls his sweaty hands against the fabric of his jeans. How the hell did he get involved in this?
“We’ll never really have the answer,” Kuroo shrugs. “Because we’re both-“
“Equally impotent?” Tsukishima guesses at the same time as Bokuto says “Talented.”
Tsukishima snickers at the glares he receives.
“Tch. I was going to go with biased,” Kuroo says, low and teasing. “You see, Bokuto’s an expert with his hands. He’ll reach places that’ll have you seeing stars.”
Tsukki’s eyes are immediately drawn to Bokuto’s hands. He imagines how they’d look fisted in Kuroo’s disheveled hair or how Kuroo would look, his eyes darkened in arousal and his cheeks hollowed as he sucks Bokuto’s fingers until they’re both groaning in pleasure. Tsukishima shakes his head, trying to rid himself of the fantasy.
“Fuck,” Bokuto hisses, his hand brushing Tsukishima’s as he takes a swig of Tsukishima’s drink. “The things Kuroo does with his mouth, though.”
Kuroo smirks and drags his tongue across his lips slowly enough for Tsukishima to catch a glimpse of a metallic stud. Tsukishima's mouth goes dry.
“Hence, the unsettled question.” Kuroo snatches the glass from Bokuto. Tsukishima watches the bob of Kuroo’s throat as he drinks. He knows he’s been caught looking when Kuroo narrows his eyes and smirks like he’s already won.
“I was drinking that,” Tsukishima protests.
“So we’ll buy you another one,” Kuroo says with a shrug.
Kuroo and Bokuto shuffle in closer to Tsukishima as they exchange sly looks.
“So what do you say to settling the bet?” Bokuto asks eagerly as he elbows Tsukkishima. “Huh? Huh?”
“No,” Tsukishima says. It slips out before he even thinks about it.
They’re hot, but Tsukishima has never- his first time isn’t going to be a casual threesome. Tsukishima’s a romantic, okay? He wants to be wooed, and wanted, and-
“No?” Kuroo echoes uncertainly, stunned by Tsukishima's rejection. “Are you sure, Glasses-kun?”
Bokuto wiggles his eyebrows. “We could make it good for you.”
“No,” Tsukishima says sharply, shaking his head as he resumes his search for his best friend. Where the hell is Tadashi? “I’m going home.”
Bokuto's shoulders sag as slumps in his stool. “Damn. I think we spooked him,” Bokuto murmurs before someone grabs Kuroo and Bokuto by the backs of their shirts.
“You two, we’re going home,” the stranger says, glaring down at them in disapproval. “Now.”
“But Akaashi, things were just starting to get interesting,” Kuroo complains.
“Kenma’s tired. And you two should know better than sexually harassing unsuspecting strangers,” Akaashi grits. He wrenches them away from the bar.
“But we weren’t-” Bokuto protests. He smiles sheepishly and gives Tsukishima a small wave as Akaashi pulls him away.
Tsukishima watches them go in disbelief. What the hell was that? He frowns and digs out his cellphone and sends a quick text to Yamaguchi. Hopefully his flush will have disappeared by the time his friend finds him.