Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Kuroo, son of the head of the Nekoma clan, had fallen in love with Bokuto, son of the head of Fukurodani family.

It was a pure, sincere, young love. They were both teenagers at the time, experimenting with life, testing their emotions, putting desperate efforts into something that could hurt them. As it turned out, their relationship was a good investment for their elders. Where Kuroo and Bokuto saw only their passion, their clans saw an opportunity to win a powerful alliance. 

When Oyabun Nekomata told Kuroo that Fukurodani had offered Bokuto’s hand to him, the young heir was only 17. Still, he eagerly accepted the tie. He wanted nothing more than to promise Bokuto everything. 

Their clans agreed to marry them once they would reach adulthood. The engagement ceremony had been celebrated only a month after they both finished high-school. They were 18 when they became fiancés. 

Quite young right? As if they cared. They had each other and that was all they cared about. 

Bokuto met Akaashi when he was 19. The man, a year younger than him, entered his service unexpectedly. He had been rescued from his family debts by Bokuto’s generosity and in exchange pledged his life to the older. He turned out to be ruthless and deadly efficient in all aspects of the life of a gangster. Almost as if he was born to be one of them. 

They immediately felt they matched. At first, they ignored it or mistook it for respect and friendship. The pull between came to a point it became a balancing act. Bokuto was definitely in love with Kuroo, but he couldn't ignore the attraction he felt for Akaashi. And frankly? He was to become the head of his clan, leading a whole organization, he had the right to decide what was good for him.

So, at some point in the year of his 20, he decided Akaashi was as good for him as Kuroo. He wanted to talk to them both before anything happened of course, to make sure they would be good with that. He mentionned it to Akaashi first.

His henchman was wary about the idea. Kuroo was his boss's fiancé and head of another clan. Akaashi had to respect that. Because of it, he first refused Bokuto’s advances. He ignored the flirt and closed his heart to the treacherous feeling threatening to invade him. He didn’t want to get in the way. But Bokuto was a persistent, egoist bastard. He somehow managed to convince Akaashi to abandon himself to his feelings and to forget about the guilt. The man was so certain Kuroo would accept them. 

Akaashi wasn’t that sure but he was curious about the heir of Nekoma. He hadn’t had lots of occasion to bond with him but so far Kuroo didn’t mind him and even showed a friendly behavior. To be honest, Akaashi truly wanted to get to know him beyond the polite meetings and status. He knew that if Kuroo was as easy to love as Bokuto, he would give him everything.

He remembered the first time they met. It was at a clan’s meeting a few months after Akaashi had entered Fukurodani. Everyone in the room was paying their respect to the elders but mostly to the future head of clans. Bokuto and Kuroo kept throwing glances at each other, not having the occasion to say hi yet. Akaashi remained straight by Bokuto’s side. His eyes wandered more often than not over Kuroo who was flanked by two uneven henchmen. The russian was taller than him and seemed happy as a puppy to be there. The other one looked very short beside Kuroo and the russian. With his bleach hair and bored expression, he seemed to hate his life at the moment. On several occasions, their eyes met, and Akaashi was surprised that the man quickly averted his eyes as if he was going to be punched if he kept staring. How funy to think they would become good friends only a few months away. 

The black suits of the henchmen contrasted with Kuroo’s crimson outfit. The russian looked more like a model than a gangster. That could be said for Kuroo as well of course. Akaashi was mesmerized by the sight of the heir of Nekoma. He was nothing like the pictures Akaashi had glimpsed in Bokuto’s phone on several occasions. He was better. Akaashi was eager to meet him properly. 

Finally, the groups moved and Kuroo and Bokuto walked over each other. Immediately, something less ceremonious filled the air. Akaashi knew they were fiancés, but suddenly he witnessed it and it was a completely different perspective. The way Bokuto’s hands moved to circle Kuroo’s hips, how Kuroo’s hand settled in the lower part of Bokuto’s back, their eyes filled with tenderness and maliciousness. Seeing them like that, it was obvious they were made for each other. 

Then Bokuto turned excitedly and asked Akaashi to step closer so he could introduce him.

Kuroo had no idea who that guy was when Kenma first mentioned him a few months before. He hadn’t asked for more information, considering that he was just a new henchman to Bokuto. Upon meeting Akaashi for real now, he understood why Bokuto made him his right-hand man so soon. Akaashi gave off an undeniable wit and sagacity, paired with stunning features. 

Kuroo easily admitted that with his serene face and pretty eyelashes, he was very seductive. For the first time in his life then, he felt threatened. He hoped that it wasn’t all it took for Bokuto to be smitten. 

He plastered a fake smile on his lips and followed the flow, offering his hand to Akaashi and saying something like “Look after Bokuto” or “I'm counting on you”. Something that he didn’t mean. 

During the meeting, Akaashi was sitting behind the heirs, with Kenma. While the business was going on, Kuroo didn’t miss all the eager looks Bokuto threw at Akaashi over his shoulder. After that day, the name of the henchman was on his fiancé’s lips almost every day. No need to be a light to understand what was going on. 

Kuroo didn’t say anything though. He wished to temper his jealousy before confronting Bokuto about it. Until he couldn’t. 

The night of Bokuto 21th birthday, they went to a club to celebrate. Neither Kuroo or Akaashi could legally drink but since the place belonged to Bokuto, no one stopped them to smash themselves in liquor. The music was terribly loud in the club. The spotlights sent different rays of colors on the walls and the floor to the rhythm shaking the place. On the dance floor, the bodies moved like waves crashing on the shores. For hours, Bokuto and Kuroo lose themselves in the dance, kind of following the music, kind of not. 

Bokuto had Kuroo pulled against him possessively, his mouth never leaving his skin. He kissed his lips as much as he kissed his jaw and neck. He basked in the hotness his fiancé radiated. 

With so much alcohol in their system, their minds were foggy. Kuroo’s glass hung dangerously of his hand, lazily resting on Bokuto’s shoulder. As Bokuto attacked the area between his jaw and ear, he moved to wet his mouth with the forbidden drink. Finding his glass empty, he removed himself from Bokuto’s hold with a quick peck and made his way to the bar. 

The bartender immediately rushed to serve him. The man poured an illegal amount of mixed alcohol in a new glass and slid it to Kuroo, whose eyes were already back on the dancefloor, looking for Bokuto. His pleasant dizziness suddenly turned sour when he found his fiancé. Bokuto was still dancing, but now, he had another body pressed against his. Akaashi’s face was pushed in the crook of his muscular neck, his arms wrapped around it. Bokuto’s hands were sliding from his shoulders to his ass far too easily. 

Before he fully processed what he was seeing, Kuroo’s legs were taking him to the dancefloor. 

“You fucker!” He ripped them apart with so much strength the two men parted several steps.

“Tetsu jeez!” Bokuto groaned, not happy to be disturbed.

“Don’t jeez me as if I was at fault here.” Kuroo groaned. 

Bokuto blew heavily. The little commotion was attracting too much attention. Understanding that he’d have to settle the matter tonight, he waved Akaashi to follow them before he took Kuroo’s hand.

“Don’t touch me.” the heir of Nekoma hissed, trying to dodge him.

“Fucking come with me Tetsu.” Bokuto ordered with a voice leaving no chance to argue. 

He led them to the private part of the club, a balcony overhanging the dancefloor, where there was barely anyone. He instructed his henchmen to get rid of the few couples making out in the darkness and went to sit on the massive couch in the middle of the area. Kuroo refused to sit with him. As for Akaashi, he knew better than to make himself too important before being asked and stood next to the rail. 

“So?” Bokuto asked as if he wasn’t guilty of anything. “What was that for?” 

“You tell me.” Kuroo offered, crossing his arms on his chest, exacerbating the opening of his red shirt over his pectorals. 

“We were dancing, so what?” Bokuto shrugged, ignoring Akaashi's roll of eyes at his clear denial of the problem. The alcohol inhibited his senses and totally clouded his common sense. Sober Bokuto would never disrespect his lover like this. Drunk Bokuto was definitely a self-centered asshole. 

“You think I’m an idiot?” Kuroo hissed angrily. “Or do you think I’m blind?”

“I know you have 10/10 on both eyes baby.” Bokuto grinned.

“I’m going to fucking punch you Kou.” Kuroo warned, his voice dropping one octave and his face harboring a cold threatening expression.  

“I like it nasty.” Bokuto teased, not realizing the dangerosity of his play. 

He was soon taken back to reality when Kuroo suddenly erased the distance between them and hit him in the face. The shock threw him flat against the couch. Behind them, Akaashi forbade Bokuto’s other henchmen to interfere with a quick sign. 

Kuroo leaned over Bokuto, grabbed his collar and spat. “Listen to me, drunkard son of a bitch, you better take this seriously before I beat the shit out of you.” 

A drunk laugh answered him. “Fuck you’re so hot when you’re angry.”

Bokuto wet his swollen lips. It was turning into a fight, a stupid, meaningless fight, drove by alcohol. 

“You had your warning.” Kuroo groaned. He raised his fist again, but before it fell again, Bokuto grabbed both sides of Kuroo’s shirt and flipped their position. In the movement, Kuroo’s left wrist hit the couch in a twisted angle. The alcohol immediately sedated the pain, and he didn’t realize. Finding himself pinned on the couch, he struggled under the sheer strength Bokuto pressed on him. The heir of Fukurodani caught his hands in one grip and pinned them above his head with a victorious smile. 

“Fuck- You bastard!’ Let me go!” 

“Not before you listen to me baby.” Bokuto said, more seriously than before. Kuroo groaned but unable to free himself, he was doomed to listen to his lover. 

“I love you.” Bokuto blurted. “I love you and you know that. But I also love Akaashi now.”

Kuroo felt his heart falling to the ground. He could almost hear it breaking into millions of pieces. All that was left to do was to step on it to truly end him. However, it wasn’t Bokuto’s plan. 

“He loves me and he loves you too.” his fiancé said, his voice barely audible with the music beating in the club. 

“Bullshit!” Kuroo groaned.

“Fucking true.” Bokuto’s grip tightened. “We are in love with each other and with you and I fucking want it to be OK.”

“That’s not OK?!” Kuroo snapped. “You can’t throw this at me and hope I’ll be OK sharing just because you want to?!”

“You have no choice!” Bokuto rolled his eyes, letting the alcohol speak for him. What a bad idea.

“You don’t get to choose for me, asshole! I’m not your fucking doll!!”

“You’re my fucking fiancé!” Bokuto yelled, pinning Kuroo harder.

“That doesn’t give you any right over me!”

“I fucking want it that way! Why can’t you see that’d be nice! You get to ahve twice the love!” 

“That won’t fucking happen!” Kuroo screamed back, this time pushing Bokuto away. “It’s me or him but you don’t get to have us both like some sort of harem!”

“You’re not making me choose.” Bokuto warned, throwing his hands in the air. 

“Then I’m choosing for you.” Kuroo shouted. He rose from the couch and walked over to the stairs. Akaashi, who had witnessed the drunk argument in silence so far, moved to get in his way, hoping to make things right.

“Kuroo-san it doesn’t have to be this way.” he said with a composure that immediately got on Kuroo’s nerve. 

“Move.” he growled.

“Bokuto-san said the truth. I love him. And if you allow me, I’d like to-”

“Didn’t you hear me?” Kuroo snapped. “I said move. I don’t care if you love me. I don’t like you. I despise you. You’re a slut and a nuisance. You should fucking die and if you don’t get out of my way I swear I’m going to settle this problem and throw you over the rail.”

A pained expression broke Akaashi’s usual stern face. It did something to Kuroo’s guts but he refused to acknowledge it. He heard Bokuto groan after him from the couch, something about leaving Akaashi alone, and that was it. He moved Akaashi out of his way and ran down the stairs. Ignoring Akaashi’s pleas, he stormed out of the club. 

He was too emotional to have a decent conversation now. He might regret how the party ended in the morning but for now he needed to get as far as these two as possible. Blinded by tears of rage, he drove like a mad man through the city. His sobs were getting louder in the deafening silence of his car. His breathing was too fast to be effective. The pain in his wrist was slowly reaching his brain. He was considering pulling to the side road to call Kenma when suddenly, one of the tires blew up. The car slid in a concert of metallic squeaks and rolled on itself several times before crashing into a wall.

In all his misery, Kuroo had lost consciousness at the first roll. He didn't feel the pain in his body, the loss of blood, the hit on his head. He didn’t hear the calls of the first drivers who tried to help him. He didn’t hear the siren of the ambulance screaming in the night. 

.

He woke up disoriented. Sedated as he was, he wasn’t exactly awake. The strong smell of pharmaceutical products filled his first conscious breathing and he immediately understood where he was. It took him a moment to hear what was going on around him. Even longer to open his eyes. He was laying in a medical bed in a pristine white room, with a turned off TV on the wall in front of him. The door was closed but he still could hear the rush in the corridors. 

His left arm was in plaster from hand to elbow and he felt sore in his legs, like he had run for days. With a grunt, he tried to straighten to move them. A hand fell on his valid arm almost immediately. His head turned to meet with teary golden eyes, flushed face and fluffy blond hairs. 

"Tetsu?"

The mattress dipped beside him as the young man sat closer. Gentle hands cupped his face and lips pressed against his. Kuroo was shocked by how soft they felt. They kissed him several times until he found himself answering the kisses. 

“I was so scared.” The man whispered, his forehead pushed gently against Kuroo’s. 

Kuroo allowed himself to receive another kiss before he forced his valid hand to move to gently push the man away. The blond moved back with a smile. He was crying again. Kuroo brushed away the tears, stunned by the beauty of this stranger. 

"Who are you?" he asked. 

The man froze. His eyebrows twitched in confusion. Or was it anticipation? 

“You don't know?" He said with a little apprehension. 

Kuroo frowned. A vivid shot of pain crossed his head and the shadow of its effect reflected on his face. The blond grabbed his hands in worry. As a matter of fact, Kuroo realized he couldn't even remember his name. Who was he again? 

A sudden wave of anxiety washed over him and he tried harder to fight the sheets and regain some freedom of movement. 

"I-where am I? Who.. I? What happened to me? Why-"

A finger pressed against his lips to shush him. 

"It's OK." the blond said. "You're Tetsu, my husband. You had an accident. The doctors said you may have a little trouble remembering things because of the concussion." 

Kuroo stared at him, processing the information. The blond looked very young to be his husband but maybe he was just blessed by nature? 

"You're my husband?" he repeated in puzzlement.

"I am. I'm your Kei." the man said, beautiful eyes filled with tears contrasting the sad smile he bore. 

Kuroo moved immediately to wipe them away. He didn't remember loving this man, but he knew that if he did, he would never make him cry this much.

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m OK.” 

Kei smiled and kissed the palm cupping his cheek. “I’m going to call a nurse. You need to be checked.”

He moved to rise from the bed but before he fully did, Kuroo’s hand closed on his wrist.

“I-... I have so many questions…” 

“I know.” Kei smiled. “You’ll have answers but for now we need to make sure you’re OK.” 

Kuroo hesitated. He didn’t want to let go of this mesmerizing man. Kei gently stroked the hand holding him back and leaned to kiss the knuckles. “I’ll be back before you know.” 

Kuroo then realized how stupid he must looked like, holding on Kei like a child. He nodded, fearing that his voice would fail him and let go of the hand. Kei gave him a long loving look, before he turned on his heels and left the room. 

He walked over to the nurses desk, but instead of slowing down as he reached it, he went past it and opened the door to the staircases. There, he checked his surroundings, before he pulled out his phone.

“He woke up.” he said, barely a second into the phone call. “No memories. I can make him my puppet. [...] No, no sign of them yet. [...] Yamaguchi is down there with Asahi, guarding the entrance. [...] Understood.”

He ended the call as abruptly as he had started it and made another one. 

“Green light. We’re taking him out now. [...] No time for this, Sugawara will check on him once we’re back.”

Once more, he ended the call. He took a second to gather himself and forced a few tears in his eyes. Then he opened the door to the floor and walked to the nurses’ desk.

.

Kuroo trusted his husband and when Kei had told him they could leave if Kuroo was OK with that, he had of course said yes. Against the medical opinions, Kei took Kuroo out of the hospital less than an hour later. Kuroo was relieved to get out of this place. Even without his memories, he knew he wasn’t fond of places like this. His guts were telling him something unpleasant had happened at some point in his life in a hospital. He couldn’t recall what yet, and wasn’t sure he wanted to.

He was too tired to truly realize what was happening and especially that he was not in fact, in shape to leave the hospital when Kei settled him in a wheelchair and pushed him out of his room. Kuroo was too focused on dealing with the slow pain in his body to notice the two men who immediately fell in steps with them once Kei exited the elevator. He didn’t notice them either when Kei helped him inside his car, while they settled in a black BMW just two spaces away from them.  As they exited the hospital park, he was now falling into a curious chit chat with Kei and didn’t notice the car following them. Or the line of cars stopping in a hurry at the front of the hospital.

Bokuto, followed by Akaashi and two of his men, entered the hall like a hurricane. He didn’t give a shit that all eyes fell on him the moment he stormed at the front desk, scruffy clothes testifying a long night of party. His expression told a different story though. 

"Kuroo Tetsurou please. He was involved in a car crash last night." he asked the nurse with barely controlled haste.

The nurse, used to worried visitors, checked her computer and immediately frowned.  

“Kuroo-san left only a moment ago." she announced.

"He left?" Bokuto repeated, dumbfounded. 

"His husband signed his discharge papers." the nurse confirmed. 

"His hus-?! Listen here, I'm Bokuto Koutarou, his FIANCÉ. Kuroo has no husband!" He snapped, both palms hitting the desk.

His sudden anger startled the nurse. Behind him Akaashi made a move to calm him. 

“I assure you everything was in order. His husband took responsibility of him-”

“He doesn’t have a husband!” Bokuto cut her harshly, ready to grab the woman by the collar.

Akaashi interfered and pulled him away. “Excuse us a second.” he said to the nurse. 

Bokuto let himself be dragged away, conscious he had to calm down to handle the situation. Akaashi’s next words only confirmed it. 

"Bokuto-san, calm down please." 

"Don't ask me to calm down.” Bokuto groaned. "These fuckers let Tetsu leave with a stranger! He's surely disoriented; he doesn't know the danger he could be in!"

"I know Bokuto-san. We're going to find him but right now, what we need is to remain calm in order to make cold headed decisions." Akaashi reminded him.  

His composure was upsetting for Bokuto who was on the verge of nervous breakdown. In other circumstances he would be fine with Akaashi’s control, but right now he wasn’t in a good state of mind to accept being told what to do.

“Don’t fucking tell me what I have to do. I’m not calming down until my fiancé is back with me.” 

Akaashi’s face twisted slightly. He was too good at hiding his emotions though and the shadow of distress that passed on his face quickly vanished. 

“You better. Or else we won’t find him.” 

That took Bokuto by surprise and he finally realized that his bad temper wouldn’t help. Coming to his senses, he took a deep breath and nodded, keeping his anger, fear, worries in him for the time. 

"Keiji, he’s not even of age.” he breathed. ”How could they believe he was married? I don't understand.”

"We'll figure it out." Akaashi promised, relieved that Bokuto was listening to him. Trusting him. He patted his forearm before turning to their men who were coming back from a second interrogation exchange with the nurse. 

"We have the husband's name." Washio announced. 

"Pretend husband." Bokuto corrected bitterly.

Akaashi ignored his remark and took the paper to read it. His face, usually so apathetic, morphed into a worried expression.

"What's the name?" Bokuto groaned.

"Tsukishima Kei."

Bokuto frowned. "I know this name."

"You better Bokuto-san.” Akaashi's eyes snapped up. “He's one of Sawamura Daichi most trusted men. One of the bigwigs of the Karasuno's clan."

The name Karasuno rang a deadly bell in Bokuto's head. The dangerous rival clan of Nekoma flying from the north. The crows, enemies of the cats. Fukurodani had never come across them but Bokuto had decided not to like them years ago.

And now, Kuroo was in their hands.

"They left just before we came in.'' Akaashi stated, reading the paper Washio had retrieved from the nurse.

Bokuto clenched his fist so tight it was probably painful but he didn't seem to care. There was going to be a war.

“Call Kenma. Tell Nekoma we’re going to take back Tetsu.”

Chapter Text

“Are you tired?” Tsukishima asked.

Kuroo was dozing off, head resting against the window. His eyes had stopped looking at the moving landscape for a while now. He felt tired and sore but didn't want to worry the blond. “I’m good.”

A pregnant pause followed before Tsukishima spoke again. “We’ll stop in the next station to buy you some food.”

“I’m not really hungry.” Kuroo shrugged.

“You must eat.” Tsukishima said with a slight frown. 

Kuroo opened his eyes to look at him and found him cute, all worried as he was. It was the first time since their departure from the hospital that Kuroo took the time to really look at him. His eyes drew the line of his profile, eager to imprint every detail of his perfect face into his mind. His skin was pristine pale, with not a single mole on display. His short hair was natural pale gold, which got Kuroo wondering if he was a half or something. The shadow of rosy round baby cheeks was impossible to miss.

His eyes stopped on the thin but plump rosy lips. He had tasted them back in the hospital room and liked it. He stared at them as Tsukishima absentmindedly wet them with his tongue. Kuroo's eyes were glued on the pink tip that barely showed before disappearing as fast as it appeared.  Again, he couldn’t help but find the blond adorable. Which was not exactly appropriate to talk about an adult. Despite his impressive height, his slender limbs and his large torso that didn’t hide his athletic shape, Tsukishima seemed still fairly young. The spark of intelligence in his eyes proved he had lived a life full of experiences, yet, everything in his facial expressions betrayed youth.

It made Kuroo curious about him. 

“So? Us?” he asked curiously.

“What about us?” Tsukishima said, eyes focus on the road. 

“We’re married. How did I find myself lucky enough to woo someone as pretty as you?”

The sudden blush painting Tsukishima’s cheekbones betrayed his obvious embarrassment at the compliment.

“Hhm- My husband is a shy kitten.” Kuroo grinned, delighted by the sight. 

“Don’t call me kitten.” Tsukishima snapped. He realized quickly his reaction wasn’t normal and cleared his throat. “I’m not… I’ve never been good with pet names.” 

“Really?” Kuroo worded his question with a teasing tone. “I bet I have a dozen of them for you then. Just to annoy you and make you blush.”

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “What makes you think that?”

“Because you’re really pretty when you blush. I’m sure I always love watching you transform into a strawberry.” 

Tsukishima bit down his lips and Kuroo took it as a win from his part.

“Should we talk about us?” Tsukishima offered, trying hard to drown his sour tone.

“I’d love that.” Kuroo said, straightening in his seat. “I feel a bit lost to be honest.”

Lost was an understatement. He had no memories. It was like progressing in a constant fog, so thick he barely saw his own body. 

“You’ll get better.” Tsukishima promised. “We need to get you home first.”

I need to get you to your prison first . was the subtext. 

“Ask me anything in the meantime,” he added.

Kuroo chewed on his lips pensively. “What do I call you?” 

“I don’t like pet names.” Tsukishima grumbled, hoping the man he was trying to trap wouldn’t insist on finding him an annoying nickname.

“I bet you love them when I’m the one calling you.” Kuroo insisted.

“In our 3 years of married life, I haven't once liked them.”

“3 years? Damn, I thought I was lucky but I'm actually blessed.” Kuroo whistled. 

Tsukishima bit back his smile. It wasn’t so bad to receive so many compliments at once.

“But hey, maybe if you tell me how I call you I’d remember something?” Kuroo suggested.

Tsukishima threw a quick glance to the mirror to check if Yamaguchi and Asahi’s car was still following them. Reassured by their presence, he gave in to the game of lies he had started.

“You call me Tsukki.”

“Tsukki?”

“You heard my childhood friend call me that once and never let me live over it.”

“Sounds like me. I guess.” Kuroo grinned. “What else?”

“Why do you suppose you have more than one pet name?”

“Come on, I’m a smooth tongue. I’m definitely having other names for my husband, than his childhood nickname.”

That statement took a small chuckle out of Tsukishima. The sound was delightful, especially trapped in the narrowness of the car. Kuroo stared at the blond in wonder, hoping to hear more of it. 

“You call me baby a lot. Too much. Moonshinetoo , depending on the day.” 

“Moonshine…” Kuroo repeated, tasting the word on his tongue. “I like them! What do you call me?” 

“Pain in the ass. Rooster head. Bird nest.” Tsukishima improvised outstandingly effortlessly.

“Woah, I feel loved.” Kuroo scoffed. 

Tsukishima’s finger tapped the wheel hesitantly. “Tetsu.” he offered. 

Kuroo’s intense gaze fell over him again and he found it difficult to focus on the road. 

He had never met the heir of Nekoma before, only saw him in pictures. He thought he was ready for the challenge when Daichi sent him to this mission. They had heard there was trouble brewing between the future heads of Nekoma and Fukurodani.  It took a bit of persuasion to convince Daichi he should be the one going to Tokyo to check this information, for no other reasons than his need to prove himself in the field. Finally, thanks to his obstinacy, Daichi had authorised it.

Tsukishima had come to Tokyo with Yamaguchi and Asahi to gather information about the situation between Bokuto and Kuroo and find a way to take advantage of it for their clan.  It was common knowledge that the two heirs had been frolicking for a long time. Their friendship was a rollercoaster of flirting and bromance. At least that was what Karasuno thought. What Tsukishima had seen in the club last night proved it was not just friendship. They were at the birthday party, undercovered and Tsukishima had witnessed the fight between Bokuto and Kuroo. He had followed Kuroo’s every steps since the moment the heir of Nekoma ran out of the club. He wasn’t planning on doing anything apart from watching him, but then the accident happened and Kuroo was taken to the hospital. 

Jumping on the occasion, Karasuno had come up with a plan to smoothly abduct the heir of Nekoma, and here he was, seated in Tsukishima’s car, amnesiac and convinced he was married to the blond. 

And even without his memories, he presented a danger to Tsukishima with his good looking features and captivating gaze. 

“Do you call me Daddy too?” Kuroo asked, mischief in the voice. Shit, this teasing tone was devastating. It did things to Tsukishima. 

“Absolutely not.” he snapped with indignation. 

“I call you baby for a reason!” Kuroo insisted, his mocking smile growing larger.

“Because you’re an annoying bastard?” Tsukishima groaned, forgetting about restraint and the act of the good worried husband.

“Damn you must have been so happy when you heard I was in the hospital.” Kuroo said in irony.

Tsukishima’s head snapped so fast he risked a whiplash. He saved his act last second and used his sudden fear of being discovered as a fake to reflect a painful feeling. “Don’t say that. I was worried sick about you.” 

Kuroo’s grin fell and his valid hand tried to reach him. It was barely possible in their position and he didn’t quite manage to catch him. Tsukishima helped him and gave him his right hand. Kuroo interviewed their fingers and drew small circles on the pale skin. “Sorry moonshine. I didn’t mean to be a prick.” he apologized.

Tsukishima shrugged, a little phased by the sudden display of tenderness. “I’m the asshole here. You’re the one who had an accident and I’m being me… I’m sorry…” His words burned his tongue. They were atrociously honest. Too true. He had to be more careful.

“Don’t.” Kuroo squeezed his hand. “I sure fell in love with this salty personality for a reason.”

Tsukishima felt his throat go dry and he barely nodded. Was it possible to feel regret for lying to an enemy he had just met?  

“Where are we living by the way?” Kuroo asked, offering an escape to Tsukishima’s swirls of guilty thoughts.

“Sendai.” Tsukishima answered, carefully watching Kuroo’s reaction. The man nodded pensively but didn’t react. The rival city didn’t seem to ring a bell nor put a warning in his head. 

“The doctors said a familiar environment might help you recover faster.” Tsukishima said, and it was the only part of this sham that wasn’t a lie.  

“Yeah, that sounds logical.” Kuroo admitted. “What… What happened to me?”

Tsukishima faked a shaky breath. “You were traveling for work. You got in an accident on your way home.”

“What do I do for a living?” Kuroo asked curiously.

“You work for the sports promotion division of the JVA.” Tsukishima improvised. 

“Yeah? Looks fun. I guess I like volleyball a lot.”

“You do.” Tsukishima kept going with his lie. “We met thanks to volleyball.”

“We did?” 

Tsukishima nodded, always diving deeper in the fake life he was building them. For the next half an hour, he answered Kuroo’s every question about them, their life, their wedding. The more Tsukishima invented their story, the more Kuroo seemed to focus on their love story. As if love was the only thing he could recall. Wanted to hold onto.  

When Tsukishima pulled over to leave the highway and entered the rest area, Kuroo was again, starting to doze off. The blond stopped the car in an empty part of the parking lot and turned to Kuroo. 

“I’m going to get you food and water. You stay here and rest OK?”

Kuroo smiled and weakly shook his head in approval. Just before Tsukishima moved to exit the car, Kuroo’s valid hand reached him. 

“Moonshine.” 

His hand found Tsukishima’s cheek and slowly led the blond to him. He pressed their lips together and brushed their noses.

“I love you. Thanks for taking care of me.” 

His eyes were already closed and he was falling asleep. Tsukishima stared at the man that he was tricking, not an ounce of regret clouding his mind. For a day and a half, he’d got to be loved. He’d deal with the consequences later. For now, he’d rather bask in the feeling of opulence Kuroo’s love and trust was giving him. 

He locked the car before he walked to the station. Asahi was smoking against his car, parked not too far from them. On the way, the men exchanged an understanding look.  

Yamaguchi had already bought several things when Tsukishima found him waiting at one of the stand desks arranged along the window bay. 

“Water, tea, sandwiches, strawberry shortcake of course, peaches for Kuroo-san, some painkiller drugs.” He listed, as he put everything in a plastic bag. “Clean underwears too. Do your clothes fit him Tsukki?” 

“Yes.” The blond picked the hot black coffee his friend had bought him.  

“Does it make you happy?” Yamaguchi asked, his grin loud in his soft voice.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes and didn’t dignify him with an answer. Not that that would discourage his friend from asking boring questions.

“Does he look better in real life than in the pictures?”

“He’s our enemy Tadashi.”  

“Oh come one, you’ve been crushing on him forever.” Yamaguchi chuckled, not at all troubled by the fact they were talking about the heir of a rival clan. “You’ve been collecting pictures of him since middle-school.”

“I’m not collecting pictures of him. It’s research for the file about him.”

“Yeah, sure, the file needs all these instagram-like pictures you gathered.”

Shame crept on Tsukishima’s face in a deep blush. He hated how his best friend had this ease to make him feel like a school-girl. Yes, he has had a crush on Kuroo ever since he saw a pic of the heir of Nekoma in a file in Daichi’s room during his first grade of secondary school. He might have stolen the picture on the spur of the moment too. And yes, maybe the file he mentioned wasn’t for professional use but his personal file on the Nekoma heir. 

Daichi never allowed him to go outside on the first line, always protecting him as if he was still a child. To work around this tiny problem that hurted his ego, Tsukishima had specialized himself in the datas searches and retrieval of information. He had been officially working for the clan for 4 years now.  If he had learned one crucial thing about working with and for gangsters, it was to never show its true purpose. He rarely dropped the act of the cold unstoppable truth collector. He only lowered his guard around Yamaguchi. Daichi and his close circle managed to make him do it too, but that was against Tsukishima’s will.  

As for his crush on Kuroo, it had never truly vanished. He was still physically everything Tsukishima longed for. However, the blond had learned not to dream too much about him. He hid this flaw from the clan, burying this dirty secret deep under the layers of his stolid character. Not that he could hide anything from the snoop Yamaguchi was.  His friend was the only one who knew about the forbidden attraction Tsukishima had for Kuroo. He’d never do anything to betray Tsukishima of course. Only in moments like this, in the short break they allowed themselves in their dangerous life, he’d tease the blond about it. Tsukishima groaned but never blamed him. He knew his secret was safe. If he was an informations’ collector, Yamaguchi was one of the guardians of secrets of the clan. 

“Did you talk to Daichi-san?” Tsukishima asked to change the subject. 

“They’re waiting for us tonight.” his friend answered. 

“Any news from Nekoma and Fukurodani?” 

Tsukishima knew Yamaguchi enough to notice the small wince his friend tried to hide from him. 

“What’s the situation?”

“They know about the car accident. They also know Kuroo-san has been kidnapped.”

“How long do we have?” Tsukishima took a long sip of coffee. 

“I can’t say. One clan is already difficult to predict. Two? Upset? I don’t want to play with the odds.”

Yamaguchi’s worries were legitimate and Tsukishima trusted his friend’s instinct. 

“Let’s get Kuroo to Daichi-san as soon as we can.” he decided.

“If you push your luck with Kuroo-san’s state, it might turn against you. He trusts you for now but you shouldn’t do anything that could trigger his suspicion. He’s easier to deal with as long as he doesn’t remember who he is.” Yamaguchi warned. 

“I know that.” Tsukishima snapped, grabbing the plastic bag vividly. “Time is not our ally though and we can’t risk Nekoma and Fukurodani to catch us before we reach our territory.”

Yamaguchi stared at him a long second before he nodded. “I’ll warn Daichi-san. Be careful.”  

“Don’t worry about me.” Tsukishima grunted, crushing his empty cup and throwing it into the closest bin.

“I worry about you.” Yamaguchi groaned. “You’re the first in line.” 

Tsukishima shrugged. They didn’t lose another minute in the station and walked back to their respective cars. Kuroo was still sound asleep in his seat. Tsukishima’s return didn’t shake him a bit and the blond decided not to wake him up. The longer he slept, the more time Tsukishima saved from a potential turnaround. 

. 

Kuroo’s eyes fluttered open to a clouded sky. He tried to stretch only to be restrained by his plaster, the collar holding his arm still against his chest and the narrowness of the car he was in.

“Hi.”

Tsukishima’s voice reached him like a breeze in the summer. Soft and sweet and an absolute delight. A smile grew on his lips. 

“Hi. What time is it?” he asked.

“Barely noon. I didn’t want to wake you. You needed to rest. How do you feel?”

Kuroo tested his body and found himself in surprisingly good shape. “Fine. Considering I was in the hospital this morning.”

“The doctors said you’ve been lucky.” Tsukishima smiled. “Your twisted wrist and your concussion are the only damages.” 

Kuroo stared down at his plastered arm. He had a strange feeling about it. It was odd, but somehow, he knew the state of his wrist wasn’t due to the accident. He tried to think more about the reason for this doubt. The effort only triggered a string of pain into his head. His sudden grunt alarmed Tsukishima. The blond immediately threw an arm to the back seat. He rummaged into a bag before holding out a pack of painkillers to Kuroo. 

The man took them with a shaky hand. “Thanks.” Tsukishima was already rummaging again, and next, he brought a bottle of water and a few snacks to the front.

Kuroo took the medicine first, then ate slowly, chewing and drinking absently. His mind was finally getting rid of the veil that kept him off since the morning. He was now feeling the pain in his entire body. Leaving the hospital so soon didn’t seem to be the greatest idea now that the morphine wasn’t kicking in anymore. Tsukishima had said that his worst injuries were his wrist and the concussion, yet, in Kuroo’s opinion, it felt like all the bones in his body were on the verge of breaking. 

He tried to recall how the accident had happened. There was a blur fogging his memories. He knew they were there, just in reach, but he didn’t know how to dispel the curtains of amnesia. Maybe if he had something physical it’d help. The idea made him look over at Tsukishima. He opened his mouth to ask but found himself staring at the blond, caught off guard by his silhouette, delicately cut from the background of the gray sky. Tsukishima was definitely pretty. His blond strands fell on his face so lovingly. Behind the rim of his glasses, his piercing eyes were focused on the road. Kuroo was sure he had never been fond of glasses. That wasn’t his type. Still, it fitted Tsukishima and he sure loved how they sat on top of his nose. 

Ultimately, the blond noticed the curious eyes on him and gave a careful glance at Kuroo. 

“What?”

"I feel so blessed to be your husband. You’re pretty.” Kuroo breathed, almost a whisper. In the silence of the car, it sounded like a scream. And to Kuroo’s delight, it brought a new shade of pink to Tsukishima’s face. 

“You’re annoying. Go back to sleep.” 

“With you on display like that?” Kuroo faked a shoke. “That’d be a crime.”

“You’re saying nonsense.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, the blush reaching his ears.

Kuroo chuckled and decided to give his husband a rest, going for his original plan of discussion. “Tsukki, I was wondering where my stuff was? I must have had my phone and wallet with me when I got in the accident.” 

Even if he didn’t actually look at him, Kuroo saw how Tsukishima turned pale. He controlled his frown, but took note of this strange reaction. Wait. Why would he do that? What kind of strange reflex was that to notice someone’s physical language. 

In the other seat, Tsukishima bit his cheek. These items were with Asahi and Yamaguchi at the moment. He couldn’t risk Kuroo to find his stuff and trigger the truth. 

“The hospital didn't have them.” He improvised. “I assumed they were lost and they weren’t my priority so…”

“Oh. It’s OK.” Kuroo said.

“I’m sorry Tetsu.” Tsukishima insisted on the sheepish husband act.

“No don’t worry, moonshine, I’m glad I was your priority over a phone.” Kuroo smiled. 

“We’ll buy you a new one once we’re home and check with the police for your wallet.” Tsukishima said. An empty promise that Kuroo nodded at, happy to be so well treated. 

Tsukishima opened his mouth to add something, just to be cut by the ringing of his phone. It startled him a little too much, while Kuroo only stared down at the screen. 

“Yamaguchi?” he read. 

Tsukishima’s hand grabbed the phone faster than ever. Yamaguchi wouldn’t risk calling him if that wasn’t absolutely important. He had barely pressed the answering button, then his friend’s voice filled the car as loud as if he was on speaker.

“ They found us! Get the fuck out of the road! ” 

Tsukishima didn’t wait for more instruction. His foot smashed the accelerator pedal. The car sped up in a jolt, roaring dangerously. 

“Wh-what’s happening?!” Kuroo shrieked in confusion. 

Tsukishima didn’t dare answer him. His eyes were everywhere at the same time. At this hour, the highway was a dangerous balance of empty and filled. He could see Yamaguchi and Asahi’s car following them, and right behind, three massive cars coming closer.

“Shit shit shit!” he heard himself groan through his teeth.

“Tsukki?!” Kuroo called. “What’s going on? What-”

“Just hang on Kuroo!” Tsukishima snapped, before he violently turned the wheel. The car took a dangerous angle that almost had it facing nose to nose another car. With the dexterity of a racing driver, Tsukishima played with the wheels, the gear and pedals to get them to the exit they had just passed. On their dangerous way, Tsukishima crossed Yamaguchi’s car following its course on the highway. He didn’t slow down despite the pitch of worry that settled in his stomach. He reached the exit and made another turn to take it in the right direction. 

He forced the car to drive far over the speed limit, looking for safety in the emptiness of the countryside. Kuroo was silent, hand clutching the car door so hard his knuckles had turned white. Tsukishima had no time to check if the man was reminiscing about his past. His only solace was that if he did, he probably wasn’t in shape to fight Tsukishima. They were driving on a lonely road in the middle of the fields for barely a dozen minutes, when Tsukishima noticed one car behind them. Their pursuers had managed to follow them out of the highway. 

“Shit.” Tsukishima clicked his tongue. 

The car was getting closer at an alarming high speed. Tsukishima shot an eye at Kuroo. The man hadn’t noticed it yet. Throwing all caution out of the window, Tsukishima reached for the gun he carried under his jacket. Kuroo repressed a cry at the sight of the weapon. 

“Tsukki what the fuck-”

“Kuroo head down!” Tsukishima yelled as he opened his window.

He hoped Kuroo would obey because next, he was crushing the brake pedal. The car following them managed to dodge the sudden slowdown. It gave Tsukishima the opportunity to position himself side to side with their chasers. The moment they found themselves at the same level, Tsukishima pulled the trigger. He got the first man in the arm. The cars collided, throwing both engines on opposite sides of the road for a mere second before they were driving side by side again. Several gunshots broke the air. Fortunately for Tsukishima, the moment the men noticed Kuroo in the passenger seat, they became hesitant to shoot, giving Tsukishima clean windows to open fire.

Realising they were far too at risk, the driver chose to cut their road. With the speed they were going at, it took half a second for the cars to crash into each other. The air bags bursted in a cacophony, deafening Tsukishima for a mere minute. He fought the shock that drove him to unconsciousness. The collision seemed to last over and over, until both cars were going still, frozen in arbitrary directions in the middle of the road. 

Tsukishima blinked the unconsciousness away before he managed to check that he still had his glasses on. They’re askew but not broken. Controlling his difficult breathing, he managed to unbuckle his security belt and immediately reached Kuroo to check his pulse. He thought he breathed better once he found it. His hand went to the man’s face and stroked his cheek. The man was breathing but his eyes were shut.

“Kuroo, stay with me.” Tsukishima begged.  

“I’m with you..” he heard him whisper. Tsukishima let out a sigh. He didn’t let the relief get him yet though. From the corner of his eye, he noticed two silhouettes moving out of the other car. Without hesitation, he raised his gun and with two clean shots, threw their chasers to the ground. Adrenaline building again in his body, he kicked the door open and carefully walked over the bodies. The sight of blood made his hands shiver. He was used to dirty work. He knew that was part of the job description. However, he was still very young despite appearances and he had never killed anyone before. Shot to hurt, yes. Shot to kill, that was a first. 

He swallowed back the disgust and the sudden terror threatening to make him puke and put back his gun into his holster. Not wanting to linger around for too long, he ran to Kuroo’s door. 

“Come on Kuroo, we must go.” He groaned as he opened the door with too much force. 

“Tsukki, fuck, you-”

Tsukishima didn’t listen to Kuroo’s flow of unintelligible words. He helped him out of the car, making sure he could walk on his own. Kuroo was standing on weak legs but that would do. Before leaving, Tsukishima grabbed the bag of supplies from the backseat. The protocole asked of him to get rid of the bodies and the cars but he had no time for that. 

He turned to a shaking Kuroo who was staring at the bloody bodies in the middle of the road, and gripped his valid wrist.

“Come on, we have to go!” He ordered. 

Kuroo didn’t oppose resistance. As they pressed themselves under the cover of the fields, fading in the vegetation, all Tsukishima could focus on was the beating heart of Kuroo, drumming against his palm through the vein of his wrist.

Chapter Text

After running in the countryside for hours, hiding from every car passing, they had managed to find a room in a small, crappy motel. The manager at the desk hadn’t asked what sort of hell they just came out of and handed them the key to a random room without looking at them properly. The moment they stepped in the room, Tsukishima checked the window before closing the curtains. He walked over to the door and locked it again just for good measure, before he inspected every cupboard and drawer. 

Kuroo stared at Tsukishima in complete confusion. Finally, the blond turned to him. For a minute, Kuroo thought he was going to explain what happened. Tsukishima looked in his eyes, in search of something he didn’t find. He broke eye contact without a word and just walked past him. Kuroo stood there, his arms along his body like deadweights. 

They now sat on a double bed too small for them, barely looking at each other. Tsukishima had wrapped himself into a camisole of silence. He gripped his phone for dear life with a hand. Kuroo knew his other one was buried under his jacket, fingers tightly wrapped around the gear of his gun.  His silence was worse than the pain Kuroo was enduring at the moment. The run had forced his body to move in many directions and while the adrenaline had temporarily sedated the immediate pain; the sudden calm was bringing it back twice as hard.

He felt sore, he felt filthy, he was pretty sure his body odor was as bad as his aching bones.  He needed a bath. To get rid of the nasty sensation of his disgusting clothes sticking to his skin. He rose from the bed thanks to this new motivation to go clean himself. 

“Where are you going?” Tsukishima asked, now living in anxiety and fear that Kuroo had recovered his memories. 

“I need to clean myself.” Kuroo answered calmly. “I stink.”

Tsukishima stared at him, considering whether to trust him or not, then nodded.

“I have clean underwear here.” He pulled the plastic bag to him and rummaged through the articles to find the pieces of clothes.

Kuroo smiled, or at least tried to. “Thanks.” 

He took them and went to the bathroom. Considering the motel, he wasn’t expecting anything fancy. The size of the room still made him wince. It was more of a cabin stacking the toilet, the sink and the shower in the same square meter than a proper bathroom. A pair of towels hung behind the door alongside ugly bathrobes. Kuroo hoped they were clean. He found the shampoo and soap displayed  on one side of the sink. They smelled like chemicals and he wouldn’t be surprised if they caused itching too, but he was not going to complain.

Taking off every layer of his clothes asked an incredible amount of effort out of him. He was sweating like a bull by the time he found himself naked. He stared at his reflection in the mirror. He didn’t look tired, he looked worn out. Bags hung under his eyes despite all the sleep he had caught up. Bruises and scratches dotted his sun-kissed skin. Some were still bloody from the accident earlier. 

Accident?

Their chaser had purposely collided with their car. The fresh memories of the previous events sent a cold shiver running along his spine. He leaned closer to the mirror to check on the small scratches on his chin. When he moved back, he shot another look at his body and frowned. He was impressed by the Olympic form of his body. He tentatively touched his salient biceps and his gloriously drawn abs. Tsukishima had said he worked for JVA and used to play volleyball when he was younger. Apparently he kept working out even in adulthood. It seemed he had a healthy lifestyle. Or so he thought until he noticed a detail that broke all his beliefs. 

It started as a whiter line on his left side. He curiously touched it, quickly realizing it wasn’t an ordinary line. It was a scar. It was a trail on his side, just under the ribs. He kept checking it until his exploration led him to his back. Then, he caught a new detail that knotted his eyebrows. He gesticulated and turned as well as he could to put his back on display in the mirror. In this new uncomfortable position, he stared at the tattoo hugging his back. It was a hissing cat wearing an oni mask askew on his head, claws out. The vibrant colors and the amount of details demonstrated an outstanding skilled hand from the tattoo artist. But why on earth would Kuroo tattoo himself? With such a big piece? 

The sight made him dizzy. He recognized the first sign of an annoying headache threatening to burst. He had so many questions. He was so lost. The fog around him just got thicker. He shook his head and decided to push all this to the side for the time of his shower. 

He put one foot in the cabin with the bottles he needed. He stopped before turning on the water, his eyes falling over his plaster arm. “Shit.”

With a grunt, he leaned to the door. The bathroom was so small he reached the handle by just extending his arm. He cracked the door open, hoping it would be enough. 

“Tsukki?” 

He heard the rush of steps before Tsukishima entered his vision, face twisted in fear. Kuroo paused, worried by the sight. His husband was twisting his hands nervously. His wince showed an obvious guilt of which Kuroo didn’t understand the origin.

“Can you give me the plastic bag for my arm?” He asked instead of starting an important discussion now. 

Tsukishima’s eyes fell on the plaster and he mumbled something like an apology. He disappeared for a mere minute. Kuroo heard the sound of the plastic bag being emptied hastily. Tsukishima then returned and handed the item to Kuroo. He thanked him with a smile and pulled the bag over his plaster. He tried to tie a knot at the level of his elbow, unsuccessfully. 

“Let me.” Tsukishima said. 

Kuroo didn’t oppose it. He gave his arm to Tsukishima and let the blond tie the bag around his arm. Once it was done, Tsukishima didn’t move away. He was staring at the wrapped arm, but it was obvious he wasn’t looking at it. Kuroo considered leaning in and stealing a kiss from his lips. He refrained himself though, not sure it’d be appropriate at the moment. Instead, he cleared his throat. Tsukishima jolted and excused himself. As he closed the door, Kuroo saw his face turning red and it gave him a feeling of satisfaction. 

Tsukishima walked back to the bed and sat in silence, listening to the water running in the bathroom. He hadn’t had any call from Yamaguchi yet. He hoped his friend and Asahi had escaped those chasing after them. He knew he should better worry about himself. He had no car, an almost useless gun, no allies and a ticking time bomb named Kuroo Tetsurou showering next door. 

After a hesitation, he lit up his phone and pressed the call button under Daichi’s name. The first ring weighed over his shoulders, until someone picked up.

“It’s Tsukishima.” he said with a breathy relief.  “We’re OK. [...] I’m OK. [...] He doesn’t remember yet. [...] Yes. [...] We were found on the highway, after Iwaki. [...] I don’t know. I saw three cars. One managed to follow me. I took care of it. Mostly…”

He played with the sheets while he explained what had happened.

“No, no. He’s shaken but didn't say anything. [...] I know… [...] We’re staying in a motel outside of town.” He grabbed the motel’s brochure to read the name. “Hirono Wonder. [...] Yes. [...] I understand. [...] We’ll be waiting for you. I’ll keep you updated.” 

The call ended, leaving Tsukishima alone with his thoughts, facing the silence of the line. His attention was drawn back to the bathroom a little while after, with the sudden ending of running water. It was followed by grunts and different indistinct noises before the door cracked open. Tsukishima’s breath got stuck in his lungs. In the door-opening, hair damp from the shower,  Kuroo was struggling to close the flaps of his bathrobe. 

If earlier he hadn’t paid attention to the naked form in front of him because of how tense he was, now, Tsukishima was very much focusing on all the display of skin and taunt muscles. Seeing Kuroo naked or half-naked wasn’t part of his plan. The man was far too gorgeous for Tsukishima’s sanity. His breath hitched and he quickly averted his eyes, feeling the unwanted blush covering his face. 

“Shit, it’s impossible to do anything with just one hand.” Kuroo grumbled. 

Tsukishima shook away his agitation and rose from the bed. Without a word, he took both sides of the robe and pushed one over the other before knotting the belt tightly around Kuroo’s waist. It was ridiculous. The bathrobe was too small and didn’t fit Kuroo’s V-curved silhouette. Its ugly off-white clashed with his tanned skin. And it did far too little to hide the perfect line of Kuroo’s body. 

“Thanks Moonshine.” Kuroo whispered.

They were standing so close the blond felt the breath crash against his cheek. He looked up to meet with honey eyes staring at him far too intensely. Almost as if Kuroo was attracted to him. 

“You should dry your hair properly.” he groaned, stepping away to grab a clean towel that he threw over Kuroo’s head. Now hiding what flustered him, Tsukishima quietly worked on drying the older man’s hair, trying his best to ignore his chuckles. He was doing a pretty good job until the towel slid and revealed Kuroo’s face again. The man’s eye immediately found his. The memory of their kiss in the hospital room deviously chose this moment to bob itself in their mind. 

Similarly as to several times during the day, Tsukishima felt completely at the mercy of the man in front of him. His eyes pinned him against an invisible wall, making his knees go weak and his mouth pasty. And he wasn’t even aware of the effect he had on Tsukishima. That was for sure, the mark of a dangerous man. If Kuroo regained his memories, he’d be a pain in the ass for the blond. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” he grumbled.

“Like what?” Kuroo asked innocently.

“Like that.”

Kuroo leaned closer, tilting his head dangerously. “Like I want to kiss my husband?” 

The word burned Tsukishima’s ears for all he heard was a lie. He gently pushed Kuroo away, putting some distance between them. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

A hand found its way to his chin and he was forced to look at Kuroo again. 

“Moonshine.” 

Tsukishima couldn’t repress himself any longer. Throwing all cautions to the wind, he gave in the forbidden desier he’s been shutting down since the morning. He winded his arms around Kuroo’s neck and joined their mouths. Kuroo wrapped his valid arm around his back and pulled him closer without a second thought. It was nothing like their kiss that morning. This time it was hungry, needy even. 

Kuroo took the lead rather easily, pushing the blond against the door frame and pinning him there by pushing himself flat against him. Tsukishima’s mouth fell open obediently under Kuroo’s attacks. His startled little gasps were delicious to hear. 

Tsukishima was no fool nor was he going to lie to himself. He wasn’t playing the husband. To hell the consequences. He just wanted this. He wanted Kuroo, his taste, his breath, his warmth, to melt in the embrace of this man who had awakened so many fantasies in his head.  All abandoned to the kiss, he cupped Kuroo’s jaw and tilted his head to offer a new angle. He was struck by a jolt of satisfaction when he heard the first languid sigh of Kuroo. 

“You’re doing- things- to me-” the man admitted in between kisses. 

“Good.” Tsukishima grinned, biting shamelessly Kuroo’s bottom lip. That tore a pleasured grunt out of him. His hand suddenly slid from Tsukishima’s back to his thigh and he lifted his leg not so gently, ensuring himself a new position against the blond. Tsukishima had some difficulty holding back his hiccup of surprise. Kuroo took advantage of it to curl his tongue around its partner. He brushed it, tasted it, licked it sloppily, each time satisfied by the rewarding little whimpers Tsukishima breathed. 

As lost as they were in this sudden display of eagerness, it was impossible to say who started to grind against the other first. The hardness between them was exhilarating.  Kuroo kissed Tsukishima on the lips again, then drew back a little to admire his work. He missed a beat at the sight of the blond all flushed and offered in his arms. It threw a renewed might into his body. Abandoning the leg, that immediately hooked around him, his hand slid over the thigh heading to the blond’s chest.

He was about to claim his lips again when suddenly, Tsukishima turned stiff. He brutaly gropped his wrist to prevent him from sliding under his jacket. Kuroo froze in incomprehension. In front of him, the wrecked Tsukishima was staring at him with fear, an emotion that didn’t suit him and that Kuroo didn’t understand. 

“Baby? What’s wrong?”

Tsukishima’s lips parted to answer, but he wasn’t able to speak. His gun hung like a deadweight in his holster. If Tsukishima hadn’t snapped out of his euphoria, Kuroo’s hand would have met it. He couldn’t say if the heir of Nekoma had recovered his memories yet and frankly all signs showed he didn’t.  Still, Tsukishima couldn’t be so stupid and risk to be taken by surprised. 

Falling hard from the heaven Kuroo had taken to him in the last minutes, he cleared his throat. “We should rest. You should rest.” he said. 

He moved out of Kuroo’s hold and stepped to the bed where all the contents of the plastic bag were still abandoned in a pile. He grabbed the peaches and the cans of tea that had miraculously survived the crash. His shortcake hadn't be so lucky. Behind him, he heard Kuroo sighing. 

“Moonshine, what is it?” he asked.

“It’s been a tough day.” Tsukishima shrugged. 

A short silence followed his answer before the mattress dipped under Kuroo’s butt. “I think you owe me some explanations.” 

Tsukishima didn’t reply, out of fear of triggering worse questions. He tore open the packaging of the peaches and used the lid to cut them in several pieces that he handed over to Kuroo. 

“After the crash... you kept calling me Kuroo. Why would you call me Kuroo?” the man asked, accepting the fruit. 

“Everything happened so fast Tetsu.” Tsukishima controlled his tone. “I didn’t pay attention to that…”

“Yeah but your first reflex was to call out my name. Not my given name.” Kuroo insisted.

“Are you seriously making a big deal out of it?” Tsukishima tried to fudge the issue.   

“Yes!” Kuroo bursted. “A car crashed into ours, we’ve been shot at, and you have a gun! You fucking killed two guys! I think you’re hiding something from me and I fucking need to know what it is!”

The sudden flash of anger took Tsukishima by surprise, even though he shouldn’t be. Kuroo wasn’t finished yet.

“Out there, when our lives were at stake, you didn’t call me Tetsu, you called me Kuroo! And it feels off! Why would my husband call me by my name and not my given name when we’re in danger? I don’t understand!”

Tsukishima sat on the bed too, acting as detached as possible. “People react differently to danger.”

“You sure reacted like someone used to it.” Kuroo acknowledged.

Tsukishima pushed one slice of peach between his lips instead of answering that. 

“Aren't you going to tell me the truth?” Kuroo insisted, looking directly at him. 

“What truth?” Tsukishima pretended to be confused.

That made Kuroo scoff and the blond had to admit he’d be annoyed too if he was being taken for an idiot so obviously. 

“You keep trying so hard.” Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Why don’t you start with my back?”

To illustrate his point, he shrugged off one side of his bathrobe and turned his shoulder to Tsukishima, putting part of tattooed back on display. Tsukishima bit his cheeks. Of course would have his family tattooed on him. Of course it’d look gorgeous. Of course his muscles would be illegally enhanced by the lines and the colours.  

“You’re tattooed, so what?” He tried to play it cool.

“That’s not a Carpe Diem Tattoo Kei. That looks like a yakuza thing.” Kuroo groaned.

The sensation of dry mouth added to Tsukishima’s discomfort. That was too dangerous. They couldn’t have this conversation. It was putting this whole sham at risk. 

“Don’t be ridiculous. Here, eat something.” 

Kuroo opened his mouth to protest only for his voice to die out. To Tsukishima it was clear he had so much to add. The blond squeezed the fruit in his hand, busying himself in some way to cover up the nervousness he felt.  It was just a question of time before the men sent by Daichi found them and brought them back to Karasuno’s headquarters. The moment they’d be here, Tsukishima would be able to drop the act. No need to play anymore with reinforcements by his side.  With a bit of difficulty, he munched at his peach. The heavy silence was tensing him. All his attention was focused on Kuroo.

His hostage wasn’t more talkative than him. He ate in an unusual silence. From what Tsukishima had learned of him in the short time spent together, Kuroo liked to entertain conversation. This new situation was unsettling and unpleasant for Tsukishima.  He considered building more lies to anaesthetise the mistrust of Kuroo. The more he thought of it, the more he didn’t feel like it. It would ask another round of effort out of him and he was not in the mood. He was worried for Yamaguchi, feared failing his clan and insecured about staying too long in this crappy room.

.

They had been at the motel for a good hour now. Kuroo was asleep in the bed, torned out by both his physical condition and the emotions of the day. He hadn’t insisted on making Tsukishima speak since their short talk, but it was obvious he was about to puke dozens of questions each time he looked at his husband. Him sleeping gave Tsukishima the rest of mind he needed. He was sitting still in a chair facing the bed and the door, his gun on his thighs, bracing himself for any eventuality.  As he watched the heir of Nekoma enjoy the comfort of the entire bed, his valid arm thrown over his eyes, Tsukishima was thinking of the plan. He really hoped it would work and give Karasuno the result they were hoping for, because he’d be so done if all his efforts were reduced to nothing. 

He thought he had been paying attention to every sound in and out the room until he heard the first bang on the door. He jolted in his seat, realizing with horror he had dozed off. The second bang broke the lock, throwing the handle to the ground. Woken up in catastrophe, Kuroo jumped out of the sheets out of instinct, meeting Tsukishima’s worried eyes. 

“Kei?!”

The blond had to think fast. That wasn’t his backup obviously, meaning it was probably his last seconds to live. He could shoot Kuroo then be killed or use the heir of Nekoma as a shield and hostage and maybe negotiate.  The door burst open to a bunch of ferocious henchmen holding guns in front of them. Tsukishima was right in their line. 

“Shit! Get down!” He yelled at Kuroo before shooting in the general direction of the door. Gunshot answered him as he jumped to the side, joining Kuroo in the poor excuse for a hide that was the bed. He crashed against the wall, a terrible sting of pain like a burning and a tearing immobilising his arm. 

“Kei you’re bleeding!” Kuroo screamed with horror. 

The blond grunted and tried to ignore the pain threatening to make him pass out. He grabbed Kuroo’s valid arm, ready to pull him in front of him as a shield, but for an unknown reason, didn’t. Deadly hands fell over him like a waterfall and he was ripped from Kuroo’s hold. 

“Kei!” 

He was pushed violently on the ground, face eating the dirty carpet that his blood had painted red and viscous. 

“Don’t fucking touch him!” Kuroo yelled. “I’ll fucking kill you if you hurt him assholes!”

Fortunately for Tsukishima, the threat seemed to settle hesitations in the minds of those keeping him from moving. He blessed his sharp idea not to kill Kuroo. Within a minute, the room was filled with a dozen henchmen, part of them trying to get Kuroo to calm down, calling him young master and respectfully distancing themselves when Kuroo spat at them. But whenever he tried to come closer to Tsukishima, they kept him blocked in the corner of the bed. 

“Fucking get out of my way if you’re not going to kill me!” Kuroo shouted, throwing his valid fist against one of the henchmen. 

“Give him some space.” a collected voice ordered. 

Kuroo froze the same way the men around him did, his attention drawn to the door. A man of short stature was entering. His bleached hair was tied in a bun on top of his head, half of it still free and falling on his nape. He looked oddly familiar to Kuroo. 

“You always give me more work than necessary.” the man groaned as he stepped over Tsukishima’s pinned form on the ground. He stopped in front of Kuroo and stared at him from head to toe, probably judging the bathrobe choice. 

“Now tell me. Why should we spare his life?”

“Why?” Kuroo repeated, dumbfounded. “Listen, I fucking don’t know why you’re after us. If you’re the boss just tell your monkeys to-”

“Wrong. You’re the boss.” The man cut him with a frown. “Kuro, do you recognize me?”

The question took Kuroo by surprise. It must have shown on his face because the man in front of him suddenly changed his attitude. His shoulders fell a little and his expression turned colder. 

“Who do you think this man is?” he asked, pointing at Kei with his thumb.

“My husband.” Kuroo answered without hesitation. 

“Wrong, again“ a new voice growled. Kuroo’s attention turned to the entrance again. A rugged, gorgeous man was walking in, followed by another terrifyingly handsome one. The sturdy man had grey hair neatly pushed backwards. His piercing eyes rolled over Kuroo who suddenly felt very small. He didn’t give them the satisfaction to know he was intimidated though and used his height as a fortress to prevent them from having the high ground in whatever was coming. The new duo passed Tsukishima without giving him any attention. Then only the grey haired man moved closer to Kuroo. Despite being taller and well built, Kuroo felt unimpressive in front of him.

“Come on,” the man said, voice suddenly soft, almost sentimental. “You know me Tetsu.”

“I fucking don’t.” Kuroo groaned. He was so sure of it, still, when the cologne of the man standing in front of him reached his nostrils, a nostalgic feeling wrapped him. His strained nerves relaxed, pushing his jumbled thoughts into a tornado of incomprehension. 

 “I do.” he heard himself admit.

The man’s face cracked into a relieved smile. He delicately settled his hands on Kuroo’s shoulders, almost as if he feared to break him if he put too much pressure on his body. 

“I’m Bokuto Koutarou. Your Koutarou.” 

“Koutarou.” Kuroo tested the name. It felt atrociously familiar.

“I’m your fiancé.”

From his pathetic position on the ground, Tsukishima felt a dreadful shiver ran through his body. Blood rushed to his brain, shutting up all his abilities to think. That was it. The end of the road. The fall of the curtain. The final jump. 

“If you’re my fiancé… who’s he?” Kuroo tentatively asked, looking over at Tsukishima. 

Bokuto turned to look at the blond on the ground. He despised this stranger that had abducted his lover and pretended to be his lover. He wanted him dead right there, right now. One look at Akaashi told him not to do anything against him yet. 

“This man took you away from me.” Bokuto answered calmly despite the burning anger making his hands into fists. Against what Kenma and Akaashi advised, he decided to be honest, refusing to hide anything from his lover anymore. 

“Your name is Kuroo Tetsurou.” 

“Bokuto-san.” Kenma tried to stop. He feared what the brutality of too much information would do to Kuroo’s fragile state of mind. The heir of Fukurodani shut him up with just an annoyed gesture. 

“You’re the heir of the Nekoma clan from Tokyo.” he kept going. “We've been engaged since we were 18 and dating since our 15. Yesterday, we had a fight during my birthday party. You left and had an accident on the road. When we heard about it and went to the hospital, we discovered that this man…”

He pointed at Tsukishima with a disgusted expression. 

“ … had taken advantage of your temporary amnesia to kidnap you.”

“He’s part of the Karasuno clan, a dangerous rival clan.” Kenma added, considering it might be useful information to add. 

Kuroo stared at him, then at Bokuto, then at Tsukishima. Slowly, he sat on the bed, stunned by all the details he needed to digest. He found himself having some trouble swallowing and suddenly the entire room was spinning. 

“I don’t feel good… I need to- ” he breathed, his voice cracking mid-sentence.

Bokuto immediately sat by his side and gathered him in his arms, pushing his face in his neck. The familiar smell of musky cologne filled Kuroo’s head and instinctively, his valid hand grabbed Bokuto’s shirt firmly. 

“I-it’s diff-icult to bre-ath-” he tried to explain, now on the verge of a panic attack. His head hurted badly. It was as if someone was slamming a hammer against every wall of his skull at the same time.

“Akaashi, he needs medical attention.” Bokuto groaned, holding Kuroo closer if possible.

“Let’s head back to the mansion.” Akaashi said. “Go with Kozume-san. I’ll take care of the crow.”

Kuroo felt himself being raised, then lifted and next Bokuto’s strong arms pressed him against his chest again, this time bridal style. Before losing consciousness, he turned, or intended to, towards Akaashi.

“Don’t hurt him please. He’s still my husband.”

Chapter Text

How long has he been locked in there? 

Tsukishima couldn’t tell. Alone in the dark, in this soundproof room, he only had the rhythm of his breathing to count. His arm had been bandaged vulgarly, enough to stop the bleeding but not properly enough to avoid him from the premises of a fever. 

Being captured was a risk in the life of a gangster. Tsukishima was prepared for it. Despite what Daichi might think or say, Tsukishima was not only a bookworm for the clan. Even if, indeed, his field implied the security of their house or hotels, he had been trained to handle any situation. Capture and torture as well. He never tested it fortunately, but he was quite confident that his mind wouldn’t be broken so easily. He would not talk or give. 

He had no hope to escape. Since Fukurodani captured him, took back Kuroo, and locked him here, millions of scenarios could have happened. Yamaguchi and Asahi could be dead. Daichi could have given up on him, sell him to insure there would be no reprisals against the clan. Well, that was unlikely. Daichi would rather unleash hell on earth than abandon one of his men. This man was too righteous for his own good. Kuroo might have recovered his memories by now, meaning Tsukishima weak hope to be important in his eyes as his husband had vanished. His fate was sealed. He’d die sooner or later. 

Strangely, he just hoped he wouldn’t see Kuroo again before that. 

A high-pitched sound preceded the opening of the door, somewhere in front of him. He’d know if he could see, but his captors had made sure to crush his glasses on the floor in front of him before pushing a bag over his head when they took him at the motel. Lights were turned on, startling him. He braced himself for the physical pain and the mental torment he knew was coming for him. The bag was taken off his head, and suddenly he was blind. It lasted over a minute or two, during which whomever entered was busying themselves in the room. When he finally started to distinguish the forms around him, the blurred silhouette of a man sat in front of him. He crossed his legs nonchalantly and laced his fingers on his knee.

“You’re in trouble Tsukishima Kei.” the man warned. Tsukishima recognized the voice from the motel. It belonged to Akaashi Keiji, the man who was responsible for his current residency. 

“Am I?” Tsukishima played dumb. 

“You abducted Kuroo-san. You lied to him. You killed two men from the Fukurodani clan. Should I add the accident that cost Kuroo-san’s memories?” 

“Nope. That one wasn’t on me.” Tsukishima shrugged. “Bet you wish it was.” 

“That wouldn’t have changed your fate. Maybe the way it’ll happen though.”

Tsukishima felt himself grin. “It will be nasty either way.” 

Akaashi let a silence set in, giving a dramatic pause to Tsukishima who knew it was only the beginning of a long day. Or night. Whatever. 

“That was a nice plan you had there.” Akaashi admitted. “Part of this bold strategy was to make sure we would link Kuroo’s abduction to Karasuno. That’s why you gave your real name and didn’t try too hard to cover your tracks. The other part was the temporality. You counted on the timing of our reactions. 4 hours to drive from Tokyo to Sendai was more than enough. Unfortunately, it wasn’t taking into account our network. Did you honestly think we had men only in Tokyo?”

Tsukishima didn’t answer, simply listening like a good kid in school. 

“Now, I’ll be honest with you, we’re still in the dark as to why, after years of tense but calm rivalry, Karasuno would try to get their hands on Kuroo-san now.”

Tsukishima kept his lips close in a thin line. He had been waiting for this question. 

“Not planning to talk I see.” Akaashi tilted his head. “It’s OK, I have time ahead of me. You’re not going anywhere Tsukishima.” 

The blond kept staring at him blankly.

“Let me suggest a theory.” Akaashi relaxed in his seat. “Your spies in Tokyo let you in on a rumour about the potential wedding of the heir of Nekoma and the heir of Fukurodani. An union that represents a threat to Karasuno. In fact, if the two clans consolidate their present alliance with a link as strong marriage, it would reshuffle the cards within the gokudō world. Karasuno would become irrelevant.”

The idea of Kuroo marrying this idiot heir of Fukurodani made Tsukishima’s blood boil in anger. Kuroo deserved better than a cheating bastard. He was conscious that the Kuroo he had travelled with was not the real heir of Nekoma. Even if he was only the shadow of the real Kuroo, Tsukishima hated the idea of him and Bokuto being something. 

“Somehow,” Akaashi continued, “it reached Karasuno that Kuroo-san had an accident. You, being in town, have been charged to kidnap him. Once Kuroo-san at the mercy of your godfather, what would have you done? Try to negotiate a treaty in exchange for his freedom?” 

The second part of the theory was exactly Daichi’s plan. The heir of Karasuno wanted peace with Nekoma, always had. The actual godfather was dying, and the clan was already under Daichi’s law. Only the oldest members of the clan showed aggressiveness against Nekoma. Kidnapping Kuroo was violent enough to shut them up and made them think Daichi was following their advice about starting a war, while the true purpose was to negotiate peace with the future head of Nekoma himself. The fact that he was amnesiac was a temporary problem they had to resolve later on with their doctor Sugawara. Not that Tsukishima was going to explain all this to Akaashi. 

“I’m just a henchman, how would I know?” he answered, doing his best to keep his poker face on. 

“Are you?” Akaashi questioned, obviously not convinced. 

He uncrossed his legs and leaned over a plastic bag beside him Tsukishima hadn’t noticed before. He brought out a konbini bento that he opened. He split the disposable chopsticks, picked the omelette and handed it over to Tsukishima. The blond squinted his eyes.

“I can eat by myself.” 

Akaashi raised his eyebrows. “Not gonna happen either. Your hands are good as they are. Tied to the chair.”

“I’m not letting you feed me.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes into his skull, not minding to show his annoyance. 

“Then you won’t get any food.” Akaashi warned.

“Fine.” Tsukishima shrugged.

Akaashi gauged his determination then shrugged too. “That’s too bad.” In one smooth motion, he let the bento fall on the ground. The food spread between them. Tsukishima didn’t acknowledge the waste. 

“Spare me the civility,” he groaned, running out of patience. “If you’re going to torture me I invite you to get to the next level.”

“You sure sound confident for someone so young.” Akaashi commented. “I’ve done my research about you. You entered the Karasuno clan at a very young age, after your father passed away. For a while, you’ve been out of the business because of your brother, but then he abandoned you and ran away.”

Akaashi paused, waiting for a reaction that didn’t come. Tsukishima was at peace with his story. Yes, his brother had abandoned him, sold him even, to the clan. But he had found another family by Daichi’s side. The heir of the Karasuno clan, whom he considered like his brother now, had taken him under his wing, protected him, trained him. 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” Tsukishima grinned, daring Akaashi to break him. 

The man stared at him, his green piercing eyes seeming able to read his soul. Slowly, he took his chin between his fingers, adopting the position of someone giving a real thought to a problem. 

“What if I told you your brother didn’t abandon you?” he said, speaking all words plainly and clearly.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes in annoyance. 

“What if I tell you that Tsukishima Akiteru is serving a life sentence in prison for a crime he didn’t commit?” Akaashi insisted.

“You sound desperate to make me listen.” Tsukishima mocked. 

“You were 13 when he disappeared. Who told you he abandoned you? Sawamura Daichi?”

Rage filled Tsukishima’s body and he had to close his hands into fists to stop himself from reacting. Akaashi was spilling lies to make him react. It was part of the interrogation. It was a trap.

Akaashi pulled out a blue file from the plastic bag. In one swift movement, he opened it and turned it to Tsuksihima. The blond lost a shape of colour when he saw the first paper. It was a conviction paper against his brother. He clenched his teeth so hard it hurt as the realisation settled in. 

“You’re lying.” he hissed at Akaashi.

The man raised an eyebrow. “Am I? Or is Sawamura Daichi the one who’s been lying to you all this time.”

“Aki left the clan. He ran away to do something good with his life.” 

“That’s what Sawamura told you I presume.” Akaashi turned a new page and read aloud. “Following the relevant evidence of the investigations and the strongs condemnations provided by multiple witnesses during the trial, including several members of the Karasuno family, dated 27 September, this court has contested the posture of the appeal requested by the defendant Tsukishima Akiteru. He is, hereby, convicted guilty by the court of participating criminal organisation and held criminally liable for the torture and murder of Yamada Hiroto and his wife Yamada Yūna. In accordance with Article 229.14 of the penal code, the following provisions condemned the defendant to life sentence.”

Akaashi stopped his reading there to throw a knowing eye at Tsukishima. The blond was livid. His jaw was clenched so hard it deformed his handsome face. Akaashi flicked through the file until he found the next page he planned to show him.

“Sawamura Daichi testified against your brother. That’s his written statement.” 

 “You’re lying. It’s all fake.” Tsukishima hissed, refusing to look at the paper. His voice was slightly trembling and yet, he was acting confident and wilful.

“Nekoma has a very skilled hacker inside. Retrieving the file about your brother's trial was a piece of cake for him.” Akaashi stated. “If we can call this a trial…”

“What do you mean?” Tsukishima snapped, forgetting about caution. Akaashi smiled internally. He had him. He got his attention. In order to weaken Karasuno, he was going to shake this boy and bring to light some dirty secrets. 

“I already told you. Your brother was found guilty of a crime he didn’t commit. It was Sawamura Daichi’s crime.”

This time, Tsukishima didn’t buy it. He shook his head with a huffed laugh. Akaashi was ready to face his mistrust. “Sawamura made a deal with your brother. Tsukishima Akiteru was to denounce himself in exchange for your security. Then, during the trial, Sawamura would have pleaded on his behalf and it would have reduced his sentence. That was what your brother thought was going to happen when he accepted.”

“My brother left Karasuno.” Tsukishima said, not wanting to listen to this fantasy any longer.

Akaashi wasn’t done though. “During the trial, Sawamura turned his back to your brother and Karasuno worked with the authorities to shut him up. They convicted him for their crimes and did everything to put him behind the bars forever.”

“Shut up.”

“He’s been in prison for 6 years. And the promise to protect you? Well, it looks like Sawamura didn’t do a great job at it.” Akaashi emphasised by pointing at Tsukishima’s current situation.

“Are you done?” the blond snapped.

Akaashi theatrically closed his file. “Don’t like what you’re hearing?”

“You’ll need a hell lot more than a twisted little scenario like this to break me.” Tsukishima warned. 

“You don’t believe me?” Akaashi tilted his head, trying to see through the mask of the man in front of him. 

“For all I know, all this might be your creation.” Tsukishima shrugged, determined not to believe a word of it. “Aki abandoned Karasuno. Daichi-san took me in and looked after me. I owe him. I’m loyal to him. He’s not the kind of person who’d let someone else take the blame for his fault.” 

Akaashi smiled at that. “Look at you. Aren’t you a cute little brother to him?”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.” Tsukishima mocked.

“Akiteru would be so disappointed that you traded him with the man who betrayed him.”

“Go ahead, try to make me angry.” Tsukishima turned his head to the side in annoyance. “My consciousness is clean. Not like yours.”

Akaashi’s eyebrow twisted at the accusation. 

“Oh is it really?” he asked instead of letting the blond get to the high ground. “You don’t look like the type to lie and still you manipulated Kuroo-san.”

Tsukishima’s shoulders shook with his controlled chuckles. “Please, as if it was an issue.”

“He trusted you.” 

“I barely know him. We were husbands for what? Half of a day?” Tsukishima meant it. It was the truth. So why was he feeling uncomfortable to admit it? Because he had wished for the dream to last a little longer? How ridiculous. It made him sick to his stomach to admit he cared about Kuroo. 

“You broke his heart.” Akaashi said, adding to his guilt. 

“Don’t expect me to apologise. It won’t keep me up at night.” he groaned, half the truth, half a lie. 

“You’re kind of bitch. Is that why they chose you to play the whore?” Akaashi abruptly asked. 

“You’re the expert in the whore department.” Tsukishima smoothly retorted. “You tell me. Do I fit the role of the worried husband?”

Akaashi’s face closed “You lied to someone I respect and love, I advise you not to worsen your situation.”  

“You care for Kuroo ?” Tsukishima grinned, unimpressed. “Do you really? It seemed to me that you didn’t have a lot of esteem for him when you ate his fiancé’s face on the dancefloor.”

Akaashi’s eyes squinted dangerously. Tsukishima felt powerful to be able to get such a reaction out of this man. 

“I mean, it didn't look very respectful of you to lust over Bokuto like you did, and force yourself into their relationship.”

Without warning, Akaashi snapped. His composure broke and suddenly, he threw his hand against Tsukishima’s cheek. The slap left a bright red mark on the pale skin of the blond. The pain only triggered Tsukishima’s boldness. 

“I was there at the club,” he chuckled. “I saw you dance around them. You wanted their attention so bad.”

Another punch landed on his face, almost throwing him to the floor.

“You’re such a slut Akaashi-san. You want to be important to them. You wish they look at you the way they look at each other. I’ll tell you a secret. They won’t. Whores like us don’t deserve men like them.”

Akaashi's next punch sent Tsukishima to the ground this time. He fell with the chair in a heavy thud, his entire body crushing against the hard ground. 

“You don’t know me.” Akaashi groaned, overhanging Tsukishima like a bird of prey. 

“I bet you spy on them while they were at it.” the blond added, body shaking with hilarity. 

A violent kick in his stomach cut his laugh and forced a surge of cough out of him. Akaashi knew the blond was provoking him on purpose. Tsukishima probably hoped that on a loss of temper, Akaashi would accidently kill him and end his suffering. Realising he almost fell for the crow’s plan, he took a step back and breathed deeply. Two could play this game.  

“Karasuno doesn't bother with embarrassing problems. They got rid of your brother and they’ll abandon you too. They won’t come to your rescue. You’re going to stay here until you break Tsukishima.” Akaashi informed him. “You’re smart, I’ll give you that. You’re dangerously smart. That’s why I can’t wait to break you.”

From the ground, Tsukishima surrendered to a broken laugh, a drool of blood mixed with saliva dripping from the side of his mouth. His head was suddenly lifted by a harsh grip in his hair. 

Akaashi’s face came so close to his he could feel his minty breath when he talked. “Because you’re good Tsukishima, but so am I.”

Akaashi let go of his hair with the same disdain he had grasped them. 

“For every information I give you, I receive one in return. Now you just told me how to break you.” the man said with delight, a grin obvious in his voice. Tsukishima managed to not frown in confusion, focusing on staring angrily at his blurred silhouette instead. 

“Kuroo-san will come. He’ll watch us break you. He’ll even participate maybe, if he’s in the mood.” Akaashi promised with a sly smile. “You’ll have the attention you crave for, slut.” 

Akaashi turned on his heels. He grabbed the rest of the meal he had brought, being careful not to leave anything that could be useful to Tsukishima, just leaving the wasted food spread. His shoes clicked loudly on the floor on his way out.

“I didn’t say anything about Kuroo!” Tsukishima yelled.

Akaashi stopped, one hand on the handle, ready to shut the door. “You didn’t have too. You’re a fucking open book to me.” 

The door was slammed, immediately followed by the blackouts.

Chapter Text

Bokuto had a book opened on his lap as if it’d help him focus on something else other than his fiancé sleeping in his king size bed. Kuroo looked so frail under the covers, his head sinking in the fort of pillows Bokuto had built around him. He was never weak, never got a fever, barely a cold, so to see him exhausted was very unsettling for Bokuto.

The heir of Fukurodani felt like garbage ever since his birthday party. He had been a jerk to Kuroo and allowed the worst to happen to him. He felt responsible for his accident and for his abduction. Akaashi, Kenma, even Nekomata had assured him he wasn’t, but if Bokuto hadn’t been such a shitty fiancé, Kuroo would never have left the party. 

His eyes fell on the plastered wrist one more time, the most obvious proof of the last events and he sighed deeply. He closed the book and threw it to the side. He laid down next to Kuroo, on his side, his head resting in his palm. His other hand hovered over the plaster until he intertwined their fingers. 

“I fucked up so bad Tetsu.” he whispered. “Wake up so I can make it right.”

He closed his eyes and listened to Kuroo’s calm breathing. By the time he opened his eyes again, not realising he had dozed off, Kuroo was no longer sleeping. He was staring at the ceiling, lost in his thoughts. Bokuto jolted upright, trying his best not to be too brutal. “How do you feel Tetsu?” 

Kuroo’s attention fell on him and a smile lighted his face. “Better. I slept like a baby.”

“You did.” Bokuto chuckled, falling back on the mattress. He felt better to see a proper smile on his fiancé’s face. There was barely any space between them and Bokuto’s cologne was wrapping Kuroo in a bubble of security. He felt safe, at home. Not that it striked a memory or anything close. He was still progressing in the darkness.

The events of the motel seemed far away. After he fainted, he woke up a few times. Each time, he had found a familiar, yet unknown face at his bedside. First it had been the man from the hotel, with half bleached hair, named Kenma, who apparently was his little brother of heart. They had grown up together, under the protective wing of the oyabun Nekomata. This man too had come to check on him. He was actually Kuroo's grand-father by marriage. His goodwill had felt very natural to Kuroo, as if he was used to taking care of the young man. Through the few discussions they had managed to have in between Kuroo’s dizzy condition, he understood they were telling him the truth about his identity. But nothing had been enough to trigger a real tangible memory.

“You don’t remember anything?” Bokuto asked him, breaking the silence of his thoughts. 

“I’m sorry, I’m still in the fog.” Kuroo sheepishly answered.

“No, don’t apologise.” Bokuto frowned. “It’s all my fault.”

Kuroo raised a curious eyebrow. “Did you do something to me?” 

“No, no of course not!” Bokuto sat upright on the bed like a spring, bouncing Kuroo in the process. 

The latter held onto him with his valid arm. “Woah, careful big guy!” 

Bokuto immediately froze to check on Kuroo, his hands falling on his legs over the thick blanket. “Sorry love. Are you OK?” 

Taken aback by the pet name, Kuroo blinked his surprise away before nodding slowly. “Yeah… why did you say it’s your fault anyway?”

Bokuto rubbed his neck nervously, unconsciously scared to jump onto this conversation.

“You remember what I said back at the motel?” 

“That you’re my fiancé and Tsukki is an enemy?” Kuroo recalled. Thinking of the blond made him flinch, but he did his best to hide it from Bokuto. He still wasn’t sure how he should think of Tsukishima. For now, it was safer to focus on recovering his identity fully. Bokuto unknowingly helped him on the matter. 

“Let’s forget about him for a bit, OK? Let’s talk about us… I said it’s my fault because I consider I’ve been terrible to you lately and if I hadn’t said or done certains things, you wouldn’t have had your accident.”

With Kuroo’s curiosity piqued, Bokuto told him every detail of the night at the club. Kuroo listened in silence, not reacting to Bokuto’s confession about Akaashi or their fight. Once he was done and fell silent, Kuroo was still motionless. Bokuto swallowed loudly. His heart was beating fast in his chest in apprehension. 

Finally, Kuroo granted him a reaction. “If I’m getting everything you just said right, we’re dating…” he said calmly.

“Yes,” Bokuto nodded.

“But you’re also dating Akaashi.” Kuroo pointed, using his finger to emphasise the detail. 

“No, it’s more like, we want to but we’re not doing anything without your consent.” Bokuto corrected, carefully choosing his words. This time he couldn’t mess up. 

Kuroo squinted his eyes. “You want to break up with me?”

“No!” Bokuto shouted, throwing himself forward. It startled Kuroo who pushed himself into the pillows without realising. Bokuto noticed the uncertainty in his eyes and bit down his lips. He quickly gathered himself and straightened to look less desperate, by first releasing the sheets his hands were clenching so hard. 

“Definitely not!” he said firmly. “I love you from the bottom of my stupid heart Tetsu.”

“But you love Akaashi, that’s what you said.” Kuroo retorted despite himself. He didn’t mean to sound jealous or doubtful, it was simply that he had a hard time joining the dots. How could Bokuto love two people at the same time? Kuroo didn’t see how it was possible. It was too complicated. If maintaining a healthy relationship with just him had been difficult, how did Bokuto plan to satisfy two people's ego?  He didn’t remember being jealous but if he had been, Akaashi was probably sick of this too. 

Exquisitely, Bokuto was quick to wash his doubts away. 

“Yes and I see how it can be confusing. Let me put it this way. There’s this kind of relationship called polyamory. It involves more than two persons, generally three, sometimes more, it’s nothing defined.”

“I figured it out when you said poly. I’m amnesiac not stupid.” Kuroo chuckled. His genuine amusement melted Bokuto’s heart. He crawled a little on the bed to sit closer before speaking again. Kuroo didn’t comment and let him do, despite the little jolt it provoked in his chest.

“It’s like a philosophy of life you know. It offers the possibility to be involved romantically with multiple partners.”

“Oh?”

Oh.

Oh . 

Kuroo’s lips parted. He hadn’t thought of this. It made sense. It could work. Well only, of course, if every part agreed on the specificities of such a relationship. 

“I see.” He said, more to himself than to answer Bokuto. ”It does sound appropriate for you. Does Akaashi agree with the idea?”

Bokuto’s face lit up. “Yeah. He has had the biggest crush on you for a while too you know?”

Kuroo felt his face grow hotter. He played feverishly with his fingers to distract himself. “Really?” 

“You’re quite the walking dream boyfriend material of every sane person you know.” Bokuto teased with all the honesty his buff stature contained. 

“I’m taking good note of it.” Kuroo grinned, secretly delighted by the compliment.  

Delicately, Bokuto found Kuroo’s hand and linked their pinkies shyly. 

“We’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for a while but it never came at the right moment. And at the club I was shitfaced.” he confessed. 

A shadow darkened his face. Kuroo understood he was diving back in the memories of that night. He leaned to grab Bokuto’s chin in between his fingers. 

“Hey… I get it. I forgive you.” he said with a gentle smile.

Bokuto let out a sigh of relief, too soon followed by a doomed breathing. “No you shouldn’t. That’s easy, you don’t remember how bad I’ve been to you.”

“Yes, but I’m seeing you right now and I can tell you’re sincere.” Kuroo shrugged. 

That seemed to ease Bokuto’s fears. They both smiled, more fingers finding each other, and then softly drew nearer. Kuroo’s eyes fell on Bokuto’s lips. When he looked up, he realised the other man was doing the same. 

“I missed kissing you.” Bokuto whispered. 

“I’d like to remember what it feels.” Kuroo admitted. 

Bokuto took his face oh so gently in his hands. His thumbs brushed Kuroo’s lips, then pressed a little against them. Kuroo liked the way it felt. His body was leaning cooperatively, eager to receive more attention. His eyes fluttered shut once he smelled Bokuto’s cologne filled his personal space. As much as the hands on his cheeks warmed his skin deliciously, they didn’t prepare him for the burning sensation of Bokuto’s lips when they met his. Suddenly, the familiarity took over and Kuroo opened his mouth, moving his lips to welcome Bokuto.

His body moved on his own out of reflex, and his hand found its way to his fiancé’s neck. He added a delightful pressure in the kiss with the move. Bokuto groaned with satisfaction. The noise was weird with how their mouths were melting against each other. Not that any of them cared. Bokuto was too busy biting and licking Kuroo’s bottom lip while the latter kept pulling him closer.

When they finally parted to breathe, Kuroo found himself confused by the serenity of his mind. He had no glimpse of a memory back, yet he knew Bokuto was his everything. He felt it. His lover brushed their noses together in a sweet gesture. 

“Can I have some time to think about the poly stuff?” Kuroo asked, taking advantage of the peace of the moment.

Bokuto bounced back at the prospect. “Of course! It’s not like I’m pressuring you into it tho! Your recovery comes first!” 

Kuroo reached for his hand to squeeze it candidly. “Thanks. I hope I get back my memories soon. It’s strange that everyone around me seems to know who I am while I’m here, just vibing with the unknown.” he snickered. 

“I’m here if you need anything.” Bokuto smiled in return, leaving a soft peck over Kuroo’s knuckles. 

“Thanks.” 

. 

Akaashi had been standing in front of the door for the last 10 minutes or so. He was holding a silver tray with Kuroo’s dinner displayed on it. He had offered to Bokuto to bring the heir of Nekoma his meal and was now regretting it.

The last time Kuroo had has his attention on him, things had been… difficult. Akaashi’s ego had been hurt meanwhile he surely broke Kuroo’s heart. Tsukishima had called him a slut for attention and Akaashi couldn’t even deny it. He had been in love with Bokuto and Kuroo for too long to ignore how eagerly he had always been hoping to be looked back. Now Kuroo had amnesia and in his self-centred vision, Akaashi hoped that an unusual situation would give him a chance to make things right.  

He repressed his anxiety and straightened his hold on the tray with one hand to open the door. The room was frozen in the dark. The rays of the outdoor lightning were the only source of light. They drew long shadows on the floor and the walls. Kuroo was resting in the massive bed pushed against the biggest wall, the white sheets creating a striking contrast with his sleeping form. Akaashi pushed the door behind him, making sure not to slam it as it closed with a quiet thud, and walked over to the large nightstand. He directed the lamp to the opposite side so it wouldn't blind Kuroo when he turned it on. With this new source of light, he was able to carefully put down the tray. 

A deep breath on his side warned him that Kuroo was waking up. Akaashi’s eyes fell on him as the man was slowly chasing the sleep away. He was so handsome, his head draped with his messy hair and his valid arm casually resting over his forehead. He was surrounded by photo albums brought by Bokuto in hope they might help him remember glimpses of his past. Upon noticing Akaashi, he blinked several times, obviously confused and still sleepy.

“Sorry to wake you up.” Akaashi apologised. He stood stiff, not daring to make any unwanted move. 

“It’s OK.” Kuroo assured. He wiped off the last signs of sleep then pushed himself up to sit against the headboard. “What is it?” 

“Your dinner and medication.” Akaashi pointed.

Kuroo followed his hand to discover the tray. “Thanks.” 

Akaashi bowed politely. He watched as Kuroo moved to retrieve the pack of medicine first. Considering his job done and not sure that Kuroo wanted him around the slightest, he took a step back to turn on his heels.

“You’re leaving already?”

Kuroo’s question stopped him in his tracks. He wasn’t sure he had heard him right until he met Kuroo's questioning eyes. 

“Akaashi right?” 

Akaashi’s breath got caught in his lungs. His name sounded nice on Kuroo’s tongue.  

“Yes.” he managed to say. His voice made an uneven noise but thankfully, Kuroo didn’t seem to notice. Akaashi was proud that he didn’t make a fool of himself. Yet. 

“Do you need something Kuroo-san?” he asked for good measure. 

Kuroo looked up at him, as if Akaashi had grown a second head, before turning hesitant. “It’s just… I spend my days here with these albums for only company when Bokuto or Kenma are out. I’d be happy to have some real company.”

Akaashi’s eyes grew wide. Kuroo wanted him to… stay? 

“Nevremind, that’s stupid, you must be busy.” the man in the bed grumbled, red cheeks betraying his embarrassment. 

And for some reason, it was all Akaashi needed to regain some confidence. 

“I’d be happy to keep you company if you’ll have me.” he smiled.

Kuroo returned it and it was a beautiful sight for Akaashi. He eagerly patted the mattress next to him. 

“Take a seat.”

Akaashi did as he was told. He dragged the closest chair to the bedside and made himself comfortable at a respectable distance. He was strangely nervous to find himself facing Kuroo like this, as if nothing had happened. The bedridden man was looking at him innocently, with no memory of the night he almost threw Akaashi over a rail. Despite the conflicted feeling it made bloom inside Akaashi’s chest, it was an unexpected chance to work things out. He should take the opportunity of Kuroo listening to him without wanting to murder him to clear his intentions and apologize. 

He watched Kuroo organise the trail on his lap with a fond smile. He noticed how the man neatly put his soup in the right corner, above his main dishes, then settled the second and third dishes beside, while the brown rice was pushed to the left side of the trail. Exactly how he always did. His body remembered this daily gesture and repeated it out of automatism. Once everything seemed in order, Kuroo grabbed the chopsticks and stabbed the fish first, splitting it in small pieces before starting to eat. While he chewed, he looked up at Akaashi. 

“So. I've heard we have some things in common?”

“I wouldn't dare say that.” Akaashi said, a thoughtful look on his face.

“We have Bokuto.” Kuroo grinned. “That's something.” 

“Yes, indeed it is.” Akaashi agreed, allowing himself to chuckle at the dorky idea. 

Kuroo took a mouthful bite of rice, settling a short silence as he ate. “He said… that you two wanted to date.” he spoke again after. 

A cold shiver ran along Akaashi’s spine. No lies. He was there to make things right. “We do.” He confessed. 

A new pause followed his answer. Kuroo’s silence put his nerves to the test. Kuroo had this terrible peculiarity to be unreadable. If he was good at reading people, he was a fortress to others when he wanted to. As for now, he probably didn’t mean to be like this, which was even more intense. 

”It's fine by me, you know. I don't mind.” he said out of the blue.

“You agree?” Akaashi blinked in surprise. 

“Yes, sure.” Kuroo shrugged one shoulder casually. “If you guys love each other I don't see why I should forbid it. We'll use the poly thing right?”

“Poly-relationship, yes. Is it fine?” Akaashis insisted. 

Again, Kuroo simply raised his shoulders, with a detached expression. “Just like I said.”

Akaashi wanted to believe that. He wanted to embrace this idea. No more hiding, no more longing, he could love Bokuto freely. However, a shadow darkened his face. He tempered his new found hope. Kuroo was not totally himself. He might say this now, but once he’d have his memories again, he might descend his wrath upon Akaashi.

“You're saying that because you don't remember.” the younger man stated. 

Kuroo only laughed in return. Akaashi frowned, not sure why his sudden melancholy amused the other. “Bokuto said something similar.” Kuroo explained. “I get why you’re thinking that but I know I'm sure about it.”

“You don't think it's weird?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow. 

Bokuto and Kuroo might be known to do whatever they wanted and engage in new experiences regularly, a poly-relationship was another whole level of difference. For Japan who was still very attached to its traditional roots, things like poly-relationship was not welcomed. Japanese people, especially in the gokudō world such as theirs, weren’t very open and the normes hung heavy over the young heirs. 

Of course, their homosexual relationship was perhaps surprising considering that. Luckily for them, they had always been supported in their romance by their elders. Now, the poly-relationship might not be welcomed the same way. Akaashi was very quizzical about it.

Kuroo brushed away his doubts. “If I fell in love with someone, suddenly, without meaning it, I’d probably wish there was a solution that allowed me to love my fiancé and my lover at once. So no. It's not weird.”

“Did you?” Akaashi asked curiously.

“What?” 

“Fell in love.”

Kuroo’s hand froze mid-hair. Slowly, he put back down his chopsticks, while a sad smile spread on his lips. The answer was obvious. 

“Perhaps,” he said.

Akaashi didn’t ask. He knew he wasn’t the one in Kuroo’s mind at the moment. His ego, one minute full of hope and happiness, suddenly turned stern. Of course, he couldn’t have it all.

Chapter Text

Bokuto had his hands buried in his pockets. He was glaring at his reflection, kind of hoping he would drill holes in his own skull just like that. He was still not over his earlier conversation with Kuroo.  

His fiancé was getting better, at least from the physical point of view. However, his mind was still fragile, his headache pinning him to the bed most of the day, and no single memories recovered. Konoha Akinori, who was Fukurodani’s private doctor, had made it clear they shouldn’t rush the recovery. Giving Kuroo the albums and allowing visits from Nekoma was already a good start. There was nothing to do besides waiting and looking after him. Bokuto understood that perfectly. What he didn’t understand, therefore, was the obsession Kuroo had for Tsukishima Kei. 

Among the important things Kuroo tried to put in check in his mind, Tsukishima was in the top list. Not only did Kuroo keep talking about him, he also referred to him as his “fake” husband to Bokuto's great displeasure. When he had asked why he kept calling him that even though he knew Tsukishima was a henchman from Karasuno now, Kuroo shrugged and said he just felt like it. And while Bokuto would rather not talk about the blond anymore, Kuroo kept asking about him.

“I want to see him.” was the most common request he addressed Bokuto, eyes filled with innocence and hope. 

Bokuto didn’t want to let that happen. Unfortunately for him, he felt far too guilty about Kuroo’s situation to say no to him. That was the reason why he and Akaashi had decided to test Tsukishima first, before even agreeing to anything with Kuroo. He closed his eyes, supposedly to calm his nerves. 

He opened them again only when he felt the elevator stop and the doors slid open. He stepped into the 2nd basement of the mansion, rehabilitated into the jails, Akaashi by his side. As they walked down the automatically lit corridor, only the rustling of the plastic bag carried by Akaashi followed their steps. 

Once they reached the cell, the shorter man pulled a magnetic card. Behind the 6-ton steel door, darkness was brutally replaced by blinding white light. In the middle of the room, Tsukishima groaned, lowering his head in a hopeless attempt to escape the sudden light.  Bokuto and Akaashi entered the room, unbothered by his discomfort. 

“Heard you gave quite a hard time to our men.” Akaashi said as a greeting.

“Jealous?” Tsukishima asked with a raspy voice, not yet devoid of boldness. 

“You wish. Washio said, and I quote, he’s a freak .”

Tsukishima grinned. He seemed amused as much as he looked exhausted. “What a shame. I thought we had such a great bonding time.” he feigned. 

“I must admit, that’s an achievement hard to match to get under his skin.”

“Oh but I’m so good at that, aren't I Akaashi?” 

The way Tsukishima made the name roll on his tongue tore a flat look out of Akaashi. “Darling, you’re full of yourself.” he answered playfully. 

Tsukishima was taken aback by the pet name. He quickly replaced his shock with a provocative grin, matching Akaashi’s. It was a game of who would fly off the handle first. 

Bokuto rolled his eyes to the side, annoyed by the casualness Tsukishima seemed still filled with. The blond was tied to the chair the same way he had been when he was first locked in there. His shirt was in a poor state. Since his injured arm had been treated, the sleeve was negligently left on the ground, in a dried puddle of blood. The rest of his shirt wasn’t in a better state. His front was stained by blood and sweat. His previously lustrous blond hair was now greasy and dull, sticking to his face. His skin was dirty by both blood, sweat and dirt. He had a slashed lip, multiple bruises from the beating Washio had inflicted on him during the last visit and a dry river of blood falling from his nose. In all, he didn’t look that bad, Bokuto thought. 

His nose wasn’t borken. He still had all his fingers and both eyes. No teeth strewn the floor. His limbs were still following a normal shape. So yeah, in Bokuto’s opinion, Tsukishima was in good condition. It was almost annoying that even though he was covered in his own blood, he still looked somehow hot. Bokuto crossed his arms on his chest and leaned against the wall, while Akaashi sat in front of Tsukishima. 

“How’s your arm?” 

“Your doc is not half bad.” Tsukishima snickered.

“I bet Sugawara-san is unmatched.” Akaashi retorted, making sure to pay extra attention to the blond’s reaction. He did notice a slight tremor in his jaw, but it was soon gone. Once again, he didn’t give off any information when his family was mentioned. Akaashi didn’t mind. He was a patient man. He’d get where he wanted. 

“Who’s your friend?” Tsukishima pointed at Bokuto with his chin. Akaashi relaxed in his seat.

“So your eyesight is this bad.”

“It’s a bliss not to have to look at your face.” Tsukishima mocked.

“And it’s really satisfying to look at yours right now. This bruise is especially nice.” Akaashi tapped his left temple in reflection to Tsukishima’s. It didn’t amuse the blond the slightest. 

“Why don’t you just get rid of me already?” he asked sternly, suddenly very serious. 

“Kill you? That’s not the plan.” Akaashi shook his head. He pulled a konbini bento from the bag on his lap and showed it to the blond. “We need you alive.”

“We walked that road already. You’re not feeding me.” Tsukishima raised his shoulders dramatically. 

He shuddered under Akaashi’s piercing eyes. The man tapped the cover distractly then out of the blue he said. “Kuroo asked about you.”

Tsukishima’s eyes grew wider despite his self-control. It might be a lie to create a reaction out of him or the truth, he hadn’t expected to hear the name of the heir of Nekoma so soon into the interrogation. It caused his stomach to twist painfully. The slightest chance that Kuroo was actually worried about him lit a spark of improper happiness in him. 

“He’s worrying about you, his captor.” Akaashi added.

“Maybe he hit himself harder than you thought.” Tsukishima snickered.

Akaashi ignored the provocation. “He wants to see you.” 

Another long pause caused Tsukishima to betray how bewildered he actually was. It sold a lot of information to Akaashi in the meantime. While the blond tried his best to hide his true feelings under a mask of impassivity, indifference even, it appeared clearly for Akaashi’s trained eye.

“Aren’t you curious to know why?” he asked on purpose, his hand against his mouth in a whole fake reflection gesture.

“Not particularly.” Tsukishima lied. Of course he wondered why on earth Kuroo would still care about him. 

“Maybe we should allow him to come here, to see you like this.” Akaashi spoke up again. 

This time, even Bokuto saw how Tsukishima stiffened. Their prisoner realised too late that he had fallen into Akaashi’s trap. He just gave them the proof he wasn’t impervious to the matters related to Kuroo. He mentally cursed and gritted his teeth. On the other hand, his display of reaction made Akaashi happy.

“What is Tsukishima? Scared that your husband might see your real face.”

Tsukishima tried to save face. “What husband? I’m barely a man right now.“ he said with a mocking smile.

“True. That’s why we need to get food in your system first.” Akaashi smoothly brought back his attention to the bento waiting in his hands. This time, Tuskishima let his head fall backward in an exaggerated display of annoyance.

“This again. You’re a broken record.”

“If you weren’t a brat, I wouldn’t be here nagging at you again.” Akaashi shrugged. 

“That’s enough.” 

The voice of Bokuto rang dangerously heavy in the small room where sounds barely travelled. Akaashi leaned back in his seat, not daring to add anything. He didn’t want to check what kind of expression his lover was making at the moment. The pressure of his presence in his back was enough to handle already. Bokuto moved away from the wall and took the bento from his hands. He opened it in a snap, stopping right in front of Tsukishima. From this short distance, the blond could distinguish a frown etched on Bokuto’s face.

“Eat.” the heir of Fukurodani ordered. It was obvious he wasn’t going to free Tsukishima’s hands. It meant the blond was supposed to eat directly from the bento box, like an animal.

“I’m not a dog.” he groaned. 

A dark glint sparked in Bokuto’s eyes. Suddenly, he grabbed Tsukishima by the collar and dragged him against the closest wall. The feet of the chair scratched the floor making Akaashi wince at the high discomforting sound. Bokuto threw his prisoner against the wall and held him against it, the front of the chair in the air. Tsukishima wiggled to free himself only to realise quickly that Bokuto was master of his balance. If he decided to let go of the blond, Tsukishima would fall back and that would probably break his arms if it failed breaking his neck. This new realisation stilled him. He was boiling in anger. He made sure to translate it all through his furious glare. Bokuto didn’t acknowledge his frustration. 

“When we say eat, you eat.”

“Or what? You’ll make me eat?” 

“Precisely.”

Tsukishima didn’t have the time to recover from his stupor. Bokuto forced his thigh between his legs to stick the chair against the wall, trapping the blond here without having to use his hands. His newly freed hand grabbed a piece of fried chicken. The next scene was barely imaginable for Tsukishima. He felt the meat being pressed against his lips, so hard and so suddenly he didn’t manage to keep them closed. The food was pushed against his tongue by two rough fingers. 

“Chew.” Bokuto said with a voice offering no other choice. Shutting down his pride, Tsukishima complied. Bokuto removed his fingers to allow him to chew normally. Just when he thought he was finally getting some obedience out of this annoying blond, Tsukishima spit the food on him. The spurt of mixed saliva and chewed food stained Bokuto’s neat grey shirt while the biggest part was falling on his shiny shoes. 

Tsukishima stubbornly held the stern look of the man in front of him. He wasn’t going to make it easy for this sucker. If Bokuto had hoped to be the one who’d temper his rebellious behaviour, he had been dreaming so hard. 

“Fuck off.” he breathed heavily. 

Bokuto stared down at him in silence for what felt like a long minute. Behind them, Akaashi had stood up. His face betrayed the dangerosity of the situation. Tsukishima didn’t care if he was beaten or killed. He would not surrender. 

Finally, Bokuto reacted. He simply put down the bento on Tsukishima’s lap, as if he was a table. Then, his fingers crushed the blond’s jaw like a claw, forcing his mouth to open painfully. Tsukishima let out a pained wince. His tied hand clenched against the chair. 

“It’s alright.” Bokuto calmly assured. “You’ll eat.”

All while saying it, he took a piece of omelett that he crushed between his fingers. He gathered the lumps, and then, adding pressure to Tsukishima’s jaw, he pushed the food inside his mouth.

“I don’t mind feeding you.” he said as he forced him to swallow. “Owl parents feed their little ones until they can take their first flight.”

He repeated the same action with no hesitation.  “They push the food down their throat to make sure they get it. You’re a bird too right? A crow is just another vulture.”

Tsukishima almost gagged when the food hit the back of his mouth viciously. Each new piece forced into it was humiliating. He felt the shame burn his face, his ears, twist his stomach and trampled what was left of his ego. And yet, the worst was to come. He hadn’t eaten in days. Fukurodani had made sure to hydrate him to keep him alive, but he had refused to sustain himself. He was so weak he quickly lost his fighting spirit against Bokuto’s brutality. Verbal sparring was easy, he was good at it. His mind was strong, he could manage as long as the person in front of him wasn’t too smart. Besides Akaashi, no one had had the upper ground on him since the beginning of his captivity. 

Physical wrestling was different. Daichi had always warned him he was only limbs and mind. That, even if he had put on some muscles with adulthood, it wasn’t enough to last when he’d mentally be at his limit. Tsukishima used to laugh at Daichi’s warnings. How foolish of him. Right now, with Bokuto feeding him like a savage and his mental strengths at their lowest, Tsukishima understood it was his fall. 

It first came with a violent need to throw up, that turned out to be only a strong nausea. Then, the sickness weakened his body until he was barely moving anymore. By the time he completely surrendered to Bokuto’s will, he felt the burn of his tears falling from his eyes, consuming his final reserves. He was crying. Bokuto was staring at him while he cried. Akaashi probably noticed it too by now. The realisation threw him into a circle of shame and self-blame. Breathing became more difficult, both because of his pathetic state and the constant food pushed down his throat. 

He was drooling miserably over Bokuto fingers, incapable of shutting his mouth anymore. The heir of Fukurodani said nothing. He simply accepted the result of the treatment as collateral damage. For each piece of food, his fingers slid against Tsukihima’s tongue, scratching it, bumping into his palate and his teeth. The public humiliation with Akaashi in the front seat lasted until Bokuto fed all the bento down Tsukishima’s mouth. Then, Bokuto held out the empty box to Akaashi.

“See? It wasn’t so hard.” he commented.

He released Tsukishima’s face, whose head fell against his chest with a broken wince. His cry had reddened his face in a way that accentuated his young features. His already wasted shirt was damp with his tears. He was, in all, in a very poor state. Bokuto paused to look at him properly. He was used to men whining and crying and begging for their life. That wasn’t it. That wasn’t the state he had pushed Tsukishima into. The man in front of him was on the verge of breaking. If Bokuto and Akaashi pushed him right now, they might get something out of him. 

But it felt wrong. 

Why was he having second thoughts? Why had he even fed Tsukishima in the first place? 

Because of Kuroo. 

Kuroo had asked about Tsukishima. He had argued and spoke in his name. He had told them that despite everything, Tsukishima was a good person. And Kuroo was good at reading people. 

That was probably the reason why Bokuto closed his eyes to inhale discreetly before he put Tsukishima’s chair back on its four. Without a word, he turned on his heels and walked straight to the door. As he opened it, he called Akaashi. “We’re leaving.”

He didn’t wait for him. All the way back to the elevator, he was seeing Tsukishima’s flushed face over and over again. He hit the call button with violence, not minding that it wasn’t necessary. By the time he stepped inside, Akaashi had caught him up. 

“Bokuto-san, your hand.” 

Bokuto looked down like Akaashi’s tone suggested it to him. His fingers were still wet with saliva. It was disgusting. 

It was arousing. 

The pressure in his pants made him stiffen. He remained puzzled, slowly meeting with the fact he was turned on by what he had just done. No. 

By Tsukishima Kei. 

.

He welcomed the darkness as his best friend. Now shrouded in darkness he was invisible. No one to see his tears. No one to witness his weakness. He honestly thought that the physical pain would be the one thing to break him. He was confident Akaashi wouldn’t shatter him either. He thought himself all-mighty. 

In the end he was his own downfall. His own reaction had broken his walls. His shame invited his insecurity in. He wasn’t able to hold it against Bokuto? That was because he was weak. A lame cry baby who pretended to be a man. A pathetic boy incapable of getting over his crush who was an enemy. An useless and limited henchman whose first and only job had been a total failure. A vulnerable child who was still hoping that his brother would come back for him. 

The walls he had built ever since Akiteru had abandoned him were crumbling. He felt so alone. He was so touch-starved that Bokuto’s brutal fingers had somehow woken up dormant and unspeakable desires. 

Disgusting. 

Pathetic.

In the darkness, Tsukishima bent in half, forcing his body into an uncomfortable position but not caring about it, and let his head fall between his knees. Somehow, he thought it’d hide him. Maybe if he made himself very small and stayed silent long enough, he might be forgotten.

Chapter Text

“I want to see Tsukki.”

Bokuto’s smile faded. He was lying on his side at the end of the bed, Kuroo in front of him, leaning against the headboard, fresh out of the shower. His white tee-shirt fell loose over his red sweatpants. Bokuto straightened and put one hand over his lover’s foot. 

“Tetsu…” 

“I won’t take no for an answer. You’re not my boss Kou. If I want to, I can ask my men to bring him to me.” Kuroo said very seriously. Not an ounce of memory back, but all his assurance and leadership was reawaken. Bokuto was so smitten with this man. 

“What’s stopping you?” he teased.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “I’m asking you because you take very good care of me and I respect you.” he answered. 

“Touché.” Bokuto grinned, mimicking being hit in the heart. 

“Stop making fun of me you dork.” Kuroo groaned, pushing him with his bare foot. 

“I’m not!” Bokuto assured. 

“Then accept.” Kuroo exclaimed. “I’m not even asking you to leave me alone with him. I just want to talk to him face to face, to, to-... I don’t know… I just feel like… I need closure.” 

Bokuto listened patiently, before crawling to him. “Fine. I’ll make him come later today.”

Kuroo’s face lit up and Bokuto felt conflicted between his adoration for his fiancé and the burning anger and jealousy at the thought that Tsukishima was responsible for Kuroo’s current happy mood.

What Kuroo failed to understand, and what Bokuto failed to explain to him, was that Tsukishima was an enemy. Bokuto didn’t trust him, couldn’t trust him. 

. 

Tsukishima wondered how it would happen. Was he going to be shot in the woods? At the end of a dock? Pushed under the freshly ploughed and muddy ground? Burned and buried? Sink into water with heavy weights so as to drown?

Two men had come to remove him from his cell without bothering pushing a bag over his head. It could mean only one thing. He was going to get rid off. Death was waiting for him at the end of the road. He was anxious but strangely at peace. After his last meal with Bokuto the day before, no one had come to punch him or to witness his shame.  He was starting to think Akaashi’s threats were surprisingly empty when he glanced at the slow scroll of numbers as the elevator rose. A slight frown knotted his eyebrows once he realised they had already moved past the ground levels. 

The elevator stopped and he was dragged down a fancy corridor, dripping with luxury and power. His heart started racing. Akaashi had said he would see Kuroo. That couldn’t be happening. 

One of his cerberos pushed a door right after a turn. He tried to oppose resistance, in vain. The hands holding him were made of steel. His body was too weak after days of near starvation. They crossed the suite without slowing down, giving no time to Tsukishima to register the opulence around him, then opened a new door and pushed the blond inside. He tripped and fell on his bad arm with a grunt. The white marble beneath told him he was in an elegant bathroom.

“Leave us.” 

His eyes snapped up, his body going stiff as he recognized Bokuto’s voice. The heir of Fukurodani was casually sitting on the lip of the hot tub. Even without his glasses, Tsukishima noticed how his suit hugged his broad body to perfection. His chest peaked from beneath his undone top buttons. A gold chain shone around his neck, treacherous temptress inviting to stare longer.

“Get up.” Bokuto said. 

Tsukishima wasn’t especially eager to obey him. Considering his options, he did as he was told though, not wanting to irritate the heir of Fukurodani so soon. 

“Strip.” was the next order. This one froze Tsukishima. When Bokuto glanced at him, probably waiting for a reaction, the blond gritted his teeth. He knew he had no choice. 

“What are you planning?” he asked, still having a bit of fighting spirit. 

“Nothing. You’re going to clean yourself.” Bokuto shrugged, pointing at the shower in the corner of the bathroom.

Tsukishima squinted his eyes. “Why?”

“Because my friend, you stink.” Bokuto answered simply. “And blood doesn’t suit you.”

“Why do you care?” 

“Stop asking question and fucking do as I say.” Bokuto groaned.

His obvious avoidance of the real reason for this sham put an unsettling feeling in the pit of Tsukishima’s stomach. If he wasn’t going to be killed, what was going to happen to him? His head was buzzing with dozens of ideas at once, as to why he was asked to shower and what plan Fukurodani had for him.

“I’m not stripping as long as you’re here,” he said. “If I have to take a shower at least give me some privacy.”

“Not gonna happen.” Bokuto shook his head with a grin. “Too dangerous.”

“I beg your pardon?”  Tsukishima frowned.

Bokuto stepped closer to him, and despite being taller, Tsukishima was crushed by his heavy presence. The blond was somehow happy to be half blind. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold Boktuo’s gaze at the moment. The heir casually settled his hands on his hips, putting all his weight on one leg. 

“I won’t look away,” he said firmly. “You might take your chance to kill yourself. Drown yourself in the bathtub. Hang yourself with a towel or the shower tubing. Swallow the shampoo or the soap to poison yourself.” he listed.

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“I’m not taking the risk. Now strip before I do it for you.”

With a furious glare, Tsukishima complied. He ripped his shirt first then kicked his shoes, socks and jeans. Once he was only in his underwear he hesitated. He wasn’t shy but he was prudent. After the food episode, he didn’t feel safe with the idea of being naked in front of Bokuto. 

“Are you waiting for me to finish the job?” Bokuto asked, a mischievous glint in the eye.

Tsukishima rolled his eyes hard. He pushed Bokuto away, not so gently, not caring that it might be dangerous for him, and bent to slide his boxer down his long legs. He tried his best to ignore the eyes of the man in front of him following his every move. He threw his last piece of dignity on the pile of ruined clothes and looked over to the shower. He was pretending to be at ease, detached, not minding that Bokuto’s eyes were burning holes in his body. To escape it, he slipped inside the shower, making sure to ignore his captor. 

The sensation of the hot water falling over his body immediately shut his eyes close. As the cool-mist created by the sudden temperature gap slowly vanished, he could feel his sore and tensed muscles welcoming the delicious stream. The minute he pushed his head under it, he forgot about Bokuto. It was as if the bliss of the shower had cast a spell on his soul. The water rolled over his skin, taking away the dirt, the sweat and the blood. His hands accompanied the blow, sometimes stroking, sometimes scratching. He grabbed the bottle of shampoo and poured a generous amount of the gelatinous liquid in his palm. He barely moved away from the water while he massaged his hair, spreading the shampoo into his strands and fighting the knots. He cleaned it a first time then did it again, this time leaving the shampoo some time to soak his hair. In the meantime, he picked the bottle of soap and repeated the same movements, this time, with the water shut. He had to be careful of his hurt wrists and his injured arm. 

Behind him, Bokuto, who had sat back on the lid of the hottub, never took his eyes off Tsukishima. As much as he didn’t like him, he had to admit the blond was a pretty man. From the information gathered by Kenma, he was 18, soon 19 in a couple of days. Bokuto was trying hard to remember this as he ogled the blond. His body wasn’t as muscular as his or Kuroo’s, or even Akaashi’s, but he had some muscles on his own. They defined his thighs and ass as well as his back like the cutting of the sculpture of an Adonis. The sight made Bokuto’s blood boil in his veins. An unpleasant realisation for someone who wished to hate the blond so hard, but found himself aroused by his plump cheeks. He bet they would sit perfectly in his hands. They were the right form and size. It was pure carnal, hundred percent only physical attraction but still, it made him groan in displeasure. 

The sound of the door opening and closing thankfully tore his attention away from Tsukishima. Akaashi stepped in with a respectful bow of the head. Bokuto couldn’t help the smile his presence brought to his face. Akaashi always warded off his discontent. Was it his beautiful features, his soft aura or both, Bokuto didn’t know nor care. All that mattered was that when Akaashi was in the same room as him, Bokuto’s mood immediately lifted. This time was no exception. 

“These need your signature Bokuto-san.” Akaashi said, handing over a file. 

Bokuto took it, as well as the pen coming along and used this welcomed distraction to ignore the blond showering just a few metres from them. Meanwhile, Akaashi’s attention naturally fell on Tsukishima. Something almost animalistic grew in his eyes at the sight of the naked blond.  Contrary to Bokuto, he was realistic, he knew he wasn’t insensible to Tsukishima’s charms and personality. He also knew that Kuroo, whom he loved, liked the blond dearly despite the fact that unfortunately Bokuto disliked him. Ever since Akaashi had realised all this, he had wondered what could be done to round out the angles if necessary. 

Without consulting Bokuto, he rolled up his sleeves, walked to the shower and opened the glass door. His sudden intrusion made Tsukishima jolt. 

“Akaashi?” his voice sounded panicked or dismayed, that wasn’t easy to tell.

The raven ignored his surprise, instead grabbing the sponge ball abandoned on the rack beside the bottles. He wet it, not minding to splash himself in the process and finally, answering Tsukishima’s unease, started to rub it on the blond’s body.

“I can perfectly clean myself-”

“Not your back. Stay still.” Akaashi cut. 

Tsukishima stiffened, face flushed by shame and confusion. Despite his desire to push Akaashi away, he remained perfectly still and allowed the man to spread the soap over his back, where indeed, he couldn’t reach. Akaashi did the job in silence which only added to the discomfort of the situation. Tsukishima stared stubbornly at the wall in front of him. The race of his heart was far too loud for his liking. He hated to be touched by the man who had threatened his life and kept him captive in the dark. And somehow, everytime Akaashi’s fingers accidentally brushed his skin, he barely controlled the shiver it sent through his body. 

He thought his nightmare was over when Akaashi put down the frothy sponge away. Only to feel his beating heart sped up when the man grabbed the head shower and turned on the water, again not caring to be wet. His free hand was suddenly laying flat against Tsukishima’s back, falling in the small arch of his spine. He started to rinse thoroughly to remove the soap. His hand always slid lower and lower, until it followed the beginning of the curve of Tsukishima’s ass.

“I can do it alone!” the blond shouted, turning violently and pushing himself against the cold wall. He ripped the headshower out of Akaashi’s hand for good measure. The way held it against his chest was like he thought of it as a shield. As if the water rolling in cascade over his skin was a linen. The hot stream had started to form condensation on the glass. Akaashi’s eyes stared at Tsukishima, unfazed by his dismay. He then saw something new, something he hadn’t faced in Tsukishima before. Apprehension. Distress. It turned his young features intensely more juvenile. Realising what he had truly done, Akaashi stepped back. He was no predator.

He exited the shower at last, closing the door without looking away. He finally broke eye contact to find a towel and dry himself. When he returned by Bokuto’s side, the other man had his attention on him. He probably witnessed everything and didn’t lose a second of it.

“It’s signed.” he handed back the papers that now bore his signature. 

“Thank you Bokuto-san.” Akaashi bowed again. Before he could exit the bathroom, Bokuto held him by the wrist.

“What was that?”

Akaashi stopped, understanding perfectly the meaning of the question. He looked down at Bokuto with a knowing smirk on his lips.

“What is that, Bokuto-san?” he pointed at the man with his chin.

Bokuto frowned. While Akaashi freed himself and exited the room, Bokuto noticed, with terror, the buldge in his pants. He realised that the sight of his lover being almost intimate with Tsukishima, had majorly turned him on.

“Fuck.”

.

Kuroo had been waiting patiently all afternoon. He was standing in front of the window, looking at the property extending around the building. Not that he really paid attention to it. His focus was turned to every sound outside the doors of his room. He was hoping it would soon open and bring Tsukishima to him.  He was terrified by this meeting. Terrified at the idea that Tsukishima would be exactly what Bokuto and Akaashi had speculated. A heartless bastard who’d played with Kuroo for the sake of his mission, when all Kuroo wished for, was that he hadn’t imagined things back at the motel. He truly hoped that despite everything, they truly had a connection, attraction even. 

Another round of steps later, the moment he had so eagerly waited for finally arrived. The steps stopped in front of his room and he heard Bokuto’s voice say a last warning to the person with him. Then, the handle was turned and the door pushed open. 

Kuroo stood up, not without controlled anxiety teasing his nerves. Tsukishima was as beautiful as the first time they had met. Sure, he had bruises on his face and a damaged lips, still, his surreal beauty was intact. Another pair of glasses sat on top of his nose, less sophisticated than his. Probably a pair of replacements lent to him on Bokuto’s order. He wore a simple white tee-shirt and beige pants with sneakers without laces. The clothes were oddly too short for his height and at the same time super loose on his slender form.

Upon seeing Kuroo, Tsukishima seemed to hesitate. Bokuto didn’t give him much choice though and soon the door closed behind them. Kuroo gathered all his heart to appear relaxed when he was on the verge of throwing up.

“Tsukki. I’m so happy you’re here!” he said, inviting him to come closer.

“Why?” The blond asked, eyes squinted and a puzzled expression on his face. 

“I was worried about you.” Kuroo smiled simply and easily. “Akaashi prepared us tea. And I asked for a strawberry shortcake for you. I assumed you liked it since there was one in the bag at the motel.”

Tsukishima stared at the small table nicely arranged. He winced at the amount of food on display. Between the white napkins, the boiled egg, the small sandwiches, the croissants, the biscuits, the jams, the orange juice, the avocados, the odd plate of sashimi and the bowl of various fruits, the strawberry shortcake was the only temptation. Answering to Kuroo’s invitation, he finally walked to the table, not yet sure if he should sit or not. Kuroo was pouring them tea, but one look to the side told Kei there was coffee too. How he craved coffee right now. Lots of it. With sugar and cream.

“You’re not afraid that I'll stab you with the spoon?” he asked to distract himself, taking the tool on the table.

Kuroo chuckled. “I don’t think it’d hurt.”

Tsukishima snickered. “I could take one of your eyes out before Bokuto can stop me.”

Behind them, Bokuto, who'd sat in one of the luxurious chairs of the mini living room in one corner, threw a warning glare at the blond. Tsukishima's smirk grew wider and he purposely shook the spoon before putting it down. Provoking Bokuto was not smart, but Tsukishima welcomed any distraction that would prevent him from looking at Kuroo.

“Let’s try not to come to that.” Kuroo grinned as he sat in his chair. 

Tsukishima hesitated, again, then decided he’d better do the same. However, even once he was sticking to his chair, he refused to look at Kuroo. The man noticed it easily. His heart sank a bit at the refusal of eye contact but he couldn’t blame Tsukishima for being warry.

“Don’t you want to eat?” he asked gently.

The silence answered him. Kuroo pinched his lips, looking for another way to distract Tsukishima from his anxiety. 

“I haven’t recovered my memories yet.” he said bluntly. He ignored Bokuto's roll of eyes on the other side of the room. Surely his fiancé didn’t agree with the idea of being honest with his abductor. “It’s still odd but I’m getting somewhere I guess. Though I liked being your husband.” he tried to humour him.

His attempt earned him a quick glance from Tsukishima. “Kuroo, you do realise I've been lying to you?” he said sternly.

Kuroo took a deep breath. “Yes.” 

“I’m part of the Karasuno clan. I’m your enemy.” Tsukishima insisted. On the other side of the room, Bokuto was delighted that even the blond was telling it to Kuroo. It felt like a little victory. If Kuroo wouldn’t listen to him, maybe he’d listen to Tsukishima. 

“You’re a little young to be part of the clan.” Kuroo pointed. 

Tsukishima clicked his tongue. “I have pledged an oath but I haven't joined the clan officially,” he admitted.

“Not my enemy then.” Kuroo grinned, clapping his hands. Tsukishima stared at him in utter confusion. He was trying to determine to which extent Kuroo was being serious.

“Why do you care about me? What is this?” he frowned more irritated now that he looked again at the tea party. 

It was Kuroo’s turn to answer with silence. He knew the answer but to verbalise it would bring a lot of trouble. For one, he still didn’t know Tsukishima’s true intentions. And second, Bokuto was seated right there, within hearing distance. He stared at Tsukishima, and realised he was tired of being hauled in between people’s decisions. He might not have his memories, he still could make decisions for himself, thank you very much. The fact they weren’t the best would be a problem for his later self to deal with once he’d recover. 

“Because you mean something to me,” he admitted. 

Tsukishima seemed to be taken aback. His surprise lasted less than a minute, quickly replaced by a scoff that Kuroo wanted to see as a fake. 

“As if.”

“I mean it, Tsukki.” Kuroo assured.  

“No. You don’t.” Tsukishima shook his head. “You’re trying to trick me into talking.”

“I’m not?!” Kuroo half shouted, scandalised to be accused of such a low tactic. “I’ve been worried sick about you ever since the motel Tsukki!” 

Tsukishima raised his hand in front of him. “Stop saying that. Stop lying.”

He wore a serious face but the trembling of his voice gave him away. Relief washed over Kuroo. He hadn’t been wrong. He hadn’t imagined things. Tsukishima did feel something for him. Whatever it was, it generated enough emotions to weaken the blond’s act and shaken his sham. Revitalised by his hope, Kuroo straightened in his seat. 

“Tsukki I love you.” he confessed with all the earnestness of his heart. 

In the back, Bokuto stiffened, horrified by the confession. He somehow saw it coming, still hearing it falling from his fiancé’s lips was far worse. Had Kuroo felt like this when he had seen Bokuto and Akaashi dancing at the club? When he had been pushed in front of an unwanted truth?

“No you don’t!” Tsukishima snapped, finally looking at Kuroo. “You don’t know me! You don’t even know yourself!”

His sudden burst of anger triggered Bokuto’s nerves. He slid to the edge of his seat, ready to jump. He tried to warn Kuroo as well but his fiancé ignored him. Instead, Kuroo leaned over the table and cupped Tsukishima’s face. 

“I know you weren't pretending. I know our kiss was not a fraud. Moonshine please…”

The image of their mouth joining forced itself to the blond's mind. It blew up Tsukishima’s last restraints. His eyes fell on Kuroo’s lips, as tempting as always, whispering soft reassuring promises. Words Tsukishima couldn’t let himself trust. He fought violently the part of his brain who wanted nothing else but to melt into Kuroo’s hold and his body which burned under his touch. That wasn’t going to end well. That couldn’t end well. He had abducted Kuroo. He was from Karasuno. They were enemies. He was a prisoner. He couldn’t give in to his desire. Adrenaline shook his muscles before he violently pushed Kuroo away.

“Moonshine...” the man tried to reach him again. 

“Don’t fucking touch me!” Tsukishima shouted. 

He threw his fist first, realising too late what he was doing. He hit Kuroo so hard the man hit the floor, head first, with a small cry. Bokuto immediately jumped, drawing his gun and aiming at Kei.

“Step back!” he ordered.

“Don’t!” Kuroo groaned, barely managing to get on his feet. He was holding his head like it was a deadweight. It hurted so bad. The hammer was back, slamming all the walls inside his head at the same time. To add to his distress, the pain paralysing him felt like his brain was inflating and pushing against his skull to get free. 

Tsukishima stood in front of him, completely frozen. He couldn’t believe he had raised his hand over Kuroo. It wasn’t like him. He shouldn’t have. From the corner of his eyes, he saw Bokuto yell at him and was pointing a gun at him. He didn’t hear what threat the man was spitting though. The frantic beating of his heart covered all sounds. 

Ha.

Wouldn’t it be easier for everyone if he was just shot? 

“Step back!” Bokuto groaned again, displeased by the fact Tsukishima was obviously aiming to be killed.

“Don’t! Kou please leave him alone!” Kuroo kept begging from the floor. He was getting weaker by the minute, but all he could think about was Tsukishima’s safety. Kuroo’s feelings weren’t made up. They were the only stable thing he knew for sure. They might not have bloomed in the best condition, they still were valid.  

Hearing Kuroo’s plea, Bokuto hesitated. Tsukishima, on the other hand, was looking at Kuroo with an indescribable expression. When he took a step over to Kuroo, Bokuto threw all caution by the window. In four giant steps he was tackling the blond and knocked him out. Tsukishima fell on the carpet in a loud thud. Not caring about him anymore, Bokuto fell on his knees by Kuroo’s side and gathered him in his arms. His fiancé was livid and sweating heavily. His eyes were shut in pain. 

“Akaashi!!” Bokuto yelled in between soft pleas directed at Kuroo. “Akaashi!!”

When the door was slammed open, less than a minute later, Kuroo had already passed out.

Chapter Text

Bokuto exhaled a long held breath. He rubbed his forehead slowly, feeling a bit crushed by the events of the last hour. He was leaning against the counter in the kitchen. Akaashi was on the phone with Kenma just behind the door. From the muffled conversation Bokuto was catching, he was explaining to Nekoma the circumstances that led Kuroo to catch a fever and why Konoha was at his bedside right at the moment. 

Once more, Bokuto felt responsible. He shouldn’t have given in to Kuroo's pleas to see Tsukishima. He should’ve killed the blond sooner. Even now, he shouldn’t have him locked in another room instead of getting rid of him. His problem though, wasthat he just couldn’t say no to Kuroo. He hated the idea of hurting him again. As it seemed, the life of Tsukishima was all that mattered to his fiancé, meaning Bokuto couldn’t just kill him. And maybe, the truth burried deep inside his head, he was relieved not to kill the kid. 

He heard Akaashi end the call on the other side of the door and raised his head to watch his lover come in. In his move, he didn’t catch the sight of the glass he had abandoned earlier on the counter and hit it accidentally with his elbow. The glass flew to the floor far too quickly to be intercepted and crashed in multiple pieces on the marble floor.

“Shit.” He groaned.

“It’s OK, Bokuto-san. Let me.” Akaashi quickly imposed himself, gently pushing Bokuto away. 

“I’m sorry Keiji. And drop the politeness when we’re in private. I already told you that.” Bokuto said as Akaashi was gathering the pieces of glass in one spot with his foot. 

“I’m not yet ready for that Bokuto-san.” the man admitted without looking at him. 

An arm hugged his hip and he was forced to stop his cleaning to look into Bokuto’s eyes. 

“We have Tetsu’s blessing.” the heir reminded him. 

“The blessing of someone who has amnesia can’t be taken for granted Bokuto-san.” Akaashi pointed out. Still, his hands wrapped around Bokuto’s wrists to let himself be pulled closer. Bokuto leaned to breathe his lover’s perfume directly from his neck. Akaashi closed his eyes, head tilting to the side to grant more access. The arms around him tightened deliciously. Soon, lips replaced the nose and his skin burned under the attention.

An alarm rang inside his head to warn him this wasn’t the right time to be intimate. 

“You’re a slut for attention, Akaashi.” the voice of Tsukishima whispered somewhere in his mind. The judging golden eyes found him, mocking him and accusing, saying “I told you so”. Akaashi’s eyes shot open while his entire body tensed. What was he doing? Giving in to Bokuto's whim while Kuroo was sick upstairs. Was he that desperate to mean something? A weight fell over his chest, making it hard to breathe. He moved himself out of the other’s arms, trying his best not to look suspicious doing so.

“Kozume-san and Oyabun Nekomata are on their way,” he reminded to Bokuto.

The heir dropped his hands to his sides and took a step back. “I should probably go check on Tetsu before they arrive.”

“Yes. I’ll be guarding Tsukishima’s room in the meantime.” Akaashi decided. 

Bokuto nodded. He placed a peck at the corner of Akaashi’s mouth before leaving. Akaashi found himself alone with his guilt devouring his insides, choking him until he found it difficult to breathe. 

.

When Bokuto entered the room, his eyes were immediately directed to the bed out of habit. When he found it empty, he quickly looked around. His fear didn’t last, once he spotted Kuroo resting on the couch, facing the TV. The news was playing but something told Bokuto Kuroo wasn’t paying attention.

“Tetsu.” he called, the door closing behind him.

Kuroo looked up at him and smiled as his fiancé made his way to him. Bokuto sat close to him and immediately found his hand. 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” 

“The fever didn’t last. It was only a defence mechanism from my body. I’m OK now.” Kuroo stroked his hand in return. 

Bokuto’s shoulders fell in relief. “You scared me.”

The comment made Kuroo chuckle. “I did that a lot in the past week, didn't I?”

“That’s very true.” Bokuto admitted with a huffed laugh.

Kuroo grabbed the remote to turn off the TV before he resettled in a position allowing him to face Bokuto. His fiancé mimicked him, so that they were facing each other, hands in hands. After a short moment of Kuroo staring at him, the heir of Nekoma opened his mouth. 

“How’s Tsukki?”

Bokuto found it difficult not to roll his eyes in annoyance. “Passed out in another room. I really don’t get why you are so worried for him. He was bad to you.” he grumbled.

“So have you been.” Kuroo retorted sternly. The words shut up Bokuto before he even dared retorting anything.

Kuroo decided not to give him the time to interrogate himself. 

“That night at the club, you’ve been awful. I’m pretty sure you broke my wrist. But the worst is the fact that you let me leave.” 

Bokuto was stunned. “Tetsu do you…”

“Yes. I remember.” Kuroo admitted. 

Bokuto felt a bubble of emotions explode in his chest and head. Tears of joy and pain flowed on his cheeks, making him look like a mess. In between the unintelligible apologies he spilled, Kuroo leaned and cupped his face gently.

“Like I said, I forgive you.”

A hiccup broke Bokuto’s cries. “Yo-you mean it?”

Kuroo wrapped him with a soft look. “I do. I love you Kou. Nothing can beat that, not even your bad alcohol.”

While his guilt and self-hate trembled in front of Kuroo’s kindness, Bokuto cried harder. He grabbed Kuroo’s hands and pushed himself in their hold, not caring to wet them with his tears (and maybe his snot). Kuroo let him. He was drawing soothing circles over the flushed skin, but did not try to wipe the tears for he knew others would replace them too soon.

“I was so scared that you’d hate me.” Bokuto said once he managed to gather himself a little bit.

“I don’t.” Kuroo promised. “Neither do I hate Akaashi. I get it now. I understand your feelings. That’s why I care so much about Tsukki.”

Bokuto sniffled. “Of all the people…”

“We don’t get to choose.” Kuroo grinned and shrugged.

That was very true. Bokuto finally admitted his defeat and mentally congratulated himself for not killing Tsukishima. He straightened to wipe his face properly, then gave Kuroo a serious look.

“Are we good?” he asked, a little worried.

“No.” Kuroo shook his head, pushing insecurity into Bokuto bones. “Not until you kissed me sorry.” 

Again, relief washed over Bokuto and he almost threw himself at his fiancé who welcomed him with a laugh. As they sweetly kissed but also teased each other like they always did, they felt closer than ever.

. 

"It pleases me to see you in better shape, son." Nekomata smiled, one hand finding Kuroo's shoulder. 

Kuroo returned the smile and politely bowed his head. He wasn't related to the Oyabun by blood, but the man had took him in his house after his father and grand-parents' passing, and Kuroo being very young at the time, he had always seen Nekomata as another grandfather. The Oyabun having no family anymore, gladly endorsed this role. 

"Bokuto and Fukurodani took very good care of me." 

"I do hope so, considering how firmly this one refused to let you go. Not even to bring you back to your own house." Nekomata snickered, eyes darting over Bokuto. The heir fo Fukurodani shrunked in half shame, half embarrassment. Adult or not, Nekomata easily made anyone feel like a kid when he wanted. 

"The timing is perfect as well." the old man added, looking at Kuroo again. "We're meeting with Karasuno representative tomorrow at the first hour."

"We are?" Kuroo frowned. The idea sounded ludicrous and at the same time necessary. 

"We've been contacted by them, and reach agreement that the situation needed to be addressed. The sooner the better." 

"They abducted you." Kenma  said, as if Kuroo had forgotten. 

"Do they fear our wrath now?" the heir of Nekoma huffed with sarcasm. He was honestly annoyed by the audacity of Karasuno. 

"Apparently they wish to avoid war." Kenma simply stated. He was scrolling on his phone, not paying much attention at the rest of the room. 

"Maybe they should have think of the outcome of their actions before they did them." Kuroo hissed, tilting his head to peak above his friend's shoulder and get a glimspe of his screen. Kenma noticed and pushed him with his elbow with a annoyed groan. 

"Now now," Nekomata called for calm. "It is useless to speculate of their reasons before we hear them. Don't be a fool Tetsurou. Do not mistake my anger of what happened to you with diplomacy. They will answer for their action, I promise you that." 

.

They had arranged the meeting in one of Fukurodani's fancy hotels, in the middle of Omotesandō. For the safety of every clan the policy of the meeting was very strict, allowing only a restricted number of henchmen. As an arbitrator, Fukurodani entered the lounge first. Bokuto was followed by Akaashi and Washio and made sure to check the room before the beginning of the meeting. It was a square room, with one wall entirely windows. In the middle were arranged two large couches separated by a coffee table with white glass top. In the same way, two chairs from the same design as the couches were facing each other in the perpendicular. The decoration was the perfect balance of the minimalist Japanese aesthetics and the Norwegian cocooning, just as Bokuto liked it. 

At the appointed hour, Nekoma arrived with Oyabun Nekomata, Kuroo, Lev and Yamamoto. They were barely settled when the door opened again, giving room to the heir of Karasuno, Daichi Sawamura. Sawamura was a man of stature built like a wardrobe with a likeable-face. Right behind him walked a more slender man, with silver hair and a mole in the corner of his left eye. The doctor and shingin of Karasuno, Sugawara Koushi. Beside him, the spitting image of Yamamoto, less the dubious hairstyle, stared furiously at everyone. 

“Stop glaring, Tanaka.” Sugawara elbowed him discreetly. Tanaka winced but obeyed.

The last person to enter was a young man whose face was covered in freckles. He closed the door and stood behind the heir of Karasuno. Strangely, his eyes immediately fell on Kuroo and remained focused on him. 

Sawamura stopped by the couch and slightly bowed his head in respect. “Oyabun Nekomata. Kuroo-san.”

“Sawamura-kun.” Nekomata greeted simply in return. Kuroo didn’t open his mouth, only giving the Karasuno clan a long stern look. 

“I’m here on behalf of the Karasuno clan, as the heir of my house.” said to explain the absence of his oyabun. Not that anyone was surprised here. It was more or less obvious Sawamura Daichi was the one handling the clan for a little over a year now. It wasn’t a secret to anyone. 

“Fukurodani, in the person of Bokuto Koutarou, will mediate this meeting.” Nekomata presented, inviting Bokuto to make himself known. 

The heir of Fukurodani stepped forward as Sawamura’s eyes turned to him.

“Very well.” he said, probably knowing he had no say in the matter. 

They all took a seat, Nekoma on one side, Karasuno on the other and Bokuto in the middle, while every henchman stood respectfully behind the couches.

 “It’s a relief to see you healthy Kuroo-san.” Sawamura started the meeting like this. 

Kuroo squinted his eyes. His previous amnesia was obviously known of Karasuno because of Tsukishima, but they couldn’t say it. Admitting they had tried to abduct him in a weakened moment would be held against them in this meeting. Sawamura seemed to be wise enough not to dig his own grave. Kuroo hated him immediately. Behind his nice friendly features hid a perfidious mind, a skilled manipulator. A clever leader. A dangerous rival. 

“Thank you Sawamura-san. Karasuno took very good care of me during our short encounter.” Kuroo answered with a fake smile.

The same smile painted Sawamura-san's face.  “We wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

A strange silence followed, during which both men defied each other by scrutinising the other. A lot of nonverbal communication passed at this moment.

“Let’s not linger the matter any longer.” Bokuto stepped in, taking his role to heart. “Sawamura-san, Karasuno abducted Kuroo, Nekoma’s heir. Beyond peace, Nekoma seek compensation.”

“I wouldn’t have come all the way here if I wasn’t ready to discuss peace.” Sawamura assured. 

“Before we start, I’d like to understand your big project.” Kuroo cut. “What was the plan once you’d had me locked up?”

“You would have been our honoured guest, I assure you.” Sawamura smiled. 

“You knew this plan was doomed to fail, didn’t you?” Nekomata said, a sharp smile lighting his wrinkled face. 

“My only objective was always to reach this point, to have this meeting organised.” Sawamura assured. The way his face remained emotionless as he said the words confirmed to Akaashi that Sawamura Daichi wasn’t someone to mess with. And would use every tool he had to reach his purpose. Even if one of them was blond and supposedly his mentee. The idea that it was all part of Sawamura’s plan sent an unpleasant shiver through Akaashi’s body. Was the man that sly?  Akaashi was glad he was standing directly behind Bokuto and not in the line of sight of Karasuno, because for a split second, he wasn’t able to keep the mask on with how much hate he felt for the heir of Karasuno.

“Is it the reason why you sold the location of the cars and then the motel to us?” Nekomata asked. 

Sawamura didn’t flinch, neither did Sugawara. Behind him, the eyes of the young man with the freckles fell on him, and Akaashi noticed the realisation of betrayal in his dark green pupils. Akaashi slowly looked at Sawamura again, a new-found dislike blooming in him for the man. He just had another proof that the heir of Karasuno was also a manipulator of truth to some extent, even with his own men. 

“Why not just ask for a meeting?” Kuroo snickered, probably coming to the same conclusion Akaashi had found before.

Sawamura’s eyes slowly moved from Kuroo to Nekomata, asserting his enemies and weighing his options.

“Would Nekoma have accepted if Karasuno had offered to meet?” he asked simply.

“Probably not.” Nekomata admitted.

Sawamura opened his hands, as to say, see, “ the end justifies any means ”. This answer seemed to be enough for Kuroo who sank into the couch without another comment.

For the following two hours the tense discussion moved from each side's expectations, to the specificity of the arrangement of peace to finally reach the subject of a treaty. Tensions built up here and then, beautifully handled by Bokuto. 

As it seemed they were reaching the end of their discussion, one last question burned Sawamura’s lips. He took his chance during a short silence, while Akaashi was scribbling notes on a booklet under the dictation of Bokuto.

“I’d like to know what has become of Tsukishima Kei.” Sawamura asked, doing his best to hide his worry, which was unsettling  considering the display of ruthless behaviour he had shown during the meeting.

Nekomata exchanged a glance with Bokuto and nodded. Bokuto turned to the heir of Karasuno. “He’s in Fukurodani’s custody.”

“Is he OK?” the man with freckles insisted, not minding he hadn’t been invited to speak. His action didn’t seem to bother Sawamura who instead just waited for an answer. On the opposite side of the table, Kuroo frowned. He had heard his voice before. It was a familiar tone. 

“He’s treated better than he should be.” Bokuto answered, throwing a quick look at Kuroo who was sternly staring at Sawamura.

“We’d like to negotiate his freedom as well.” Sawamura announced, turning to Nekomata. “He was following my orders and I shall be the only one held responsible for his fault.”

Akaashi stiffened, his pen freezing on the paper. He hated hearing that while he knew what fate Sawamura had forced upon Tsukishima’s brother, Akiteru. To him, Tsukishima Kei was probably expendable. It sickened Akaashi to hear him pretend he cared. Especially since he sold the blond two times in his plan to get a meeting with Nekoma. 

“No.” Kuroo blurted.

All eyes fell on him in surprise. A breath of fresh air filled Akaashi’s lungs. He couldn’t explain why, but he was happy that Kuroo wouldn’t hand Tsukishima to Karasuno that easily.  

Visible confusion drew a frown out of Sawamura. “I beg your pardon?”

“We won’t return Tsukishima to you.” Kuroo articulated.

“Kuroo.” Bokuto tried to catch his fiancé’s attention to deliver a warning. He could tolerate his love for Tsukishima, as crazy as it was, but risking peace for it was foolish. Even him knew that. 

Sawamura squinted his eyes dangerously. “May I know the reason for such a blunt refusal?”

Kuroo crossed his arms over his chest. “I request Tsukishima as a compensation for my abduction.”

The general surprise equaled the grin he let appeared on his lips. He felt Nekomata tensed beside him but didn’t dare throw a look at his Oyabun. He knew his grand-father would probably disapprove of his request. Not that he cared. He was determined to carry out his idea. 

“I offer my most sincere apologies for the way my decisions impacted you and put you in danger, but as much as I want to absolve myself, I cannot accept. Tsukishima is one of my little brothers.” Sawamura finally answered. Each word was said slowly, carefully. It proved that Sawamura was being prudent.

Not that Kuroo was satisfied with this. He straightened on the couch and used his height to make himself look more dangerous. Sawamura wished to escape the consequences of his decisions? Funny. Kuroo was a man who forgave, not a man who’d forget. 

“Let’s put it this way. You can give me Tsukishima, release him from his oath to Karasuno and have your oh so wanted peace treaty signed. Or you can go fuck yourself.”

The second the words left his mouth, a thick veil of tension fell over the room. Karasuno’s faces showed their sudden anger, while Fukurodani was rolling their eyes at the foolishness of the heir of Nekoma. On the other hand, Nekomata didn't interfere, meaning he sort of was supporting Kuroo. Sawamura squeezed his fists on his knees. 

“Why do you want him?”

“I won’t hurt him if that’s your worry. I plan to date him.” Kuroo revealed.

Sawamura blinked in surprise, then exploded in an honest laugh. He quickly caught himself though. “My apologies. I thought you were serious for a minute.”

“I am.” Kuroo grinned. “Let’s face it, Sawamura. You’re not in position to refuse my wimp. If we don’t sign the treaty today, Karasuno will be destroyed.”

“Is that a threat?” Sawamura frowned dangerously. 

“More of a fact.” Kuroo shrugged. “My fiancé here can confirm.” he dropped casually, disregarding the secret of his future wedding.

Nekomata clicked his tongue at that, while Bokuto made sure to stare dangerously at Sawamura to emphasise Kuroo’s words. The heir of Karasuno was livid. This detail reshuffled the cards. Obviously, this meeting wasn’t as unbiased as it seemed. Fukurodani was obviously siding with Nekoma beyond the simple friendship between the two clans. They were putting Karasuno in a weak position and telling them that negotiations were merely Nekoma’s pity rather than an equal interaction.

This fact was obviously revolting for them. Sawamura tried to hide his true feelings but Kuroo assumed he was boiling inside. Did he wish his first plan had worked? That he had successfully abducted Kuroo? Maybe. Luckily for the heir of Nekoma, Tsukishima’s failure was his weapon for success.

Finally, Sawamura got rid of the tension in his shoulders and displayed a charming smile. “I understand. However, I cannot accept your  request.”

“You’re putting your entire clan at risk for one man?” Bokuto raised an eyebrow. Even Akaashi wasn’t hiding his surprise. He had been so sure Sawamura would abandon Tsukishima.

“Tsukishima is my little brother. He’s part of my family. I intend to rule differently from my predecessor. I won’t sell him for peace.” Sawamura seriously answered. 

“Who speaks of selling him?” Kuroo grinned again. “Let him choose.”

Again, the gaze Sawamura settled over Kuroo was full of confusion. “What?”

“Ask him to choose between his clan and me.” Kuroo shrugged. 

“You seem confident he’ll choose you over his family.” Sawamura raised one eyebrow.

Kuroo simply tilted his head in confidence. Sawamura stared at him, seeming able to read his soul, then nodded. 

“Very well. If Tsukishima honestly asks for my permission to leave the clan and to follow you, I'll have no disagreement.”

From the corner of his eyes, Akaashi noticed how much Kuroo was satisfied with this surrender. Sawamura wasn’t finished though. “However, I want to discuss it with him in private first.”

“Deal.” Nekomata accepted before Kuroo could oppose. 

“Oyabun-” the heir tried to speak, shortly cut by Nekomata with one snap of the hand. 

“We’ll meet again in two days time to write the new treaty. You’ll see Tsukishima there, before our meeting.”

Sawamura bowed his head in acknowledgment. The meeting ended at last, Nekomata leading the process, while Kuroo abstained himself from any other exploit. Karasuno left first, not without Sawamura glaring at Kuroo, and Kuroo properly returning the favour. 

In the car taking them back to their house, Nekomata and Kuroo were silent. It had been decided that Kuroo would stay at his house until the next meeting. The prospect didn’t please him, mostly because it meant Tsukishima was alone at Fukurodani’s mansion, but he entrusted Bokuto to not harm the blond. His train of thoughts must have shown on his face because, as the car restarted after a red light, Nekomata broke the silence in the vehicle interior. 

“Date Tsukishima?” the old man asked.

Kuroo let out a resigned breath. “I’m not ending things with Kou. It’s more, like double dating. Does it bother you?” 

“I don’t care about your romantic antics as long as you do what’s best for the clan. Which was doubtful back there. You risked peace for a boy.” Nekomata scolded.  

“He’s worth it.” Kuroo grinned like a little boy.

Nekomata snickered. “Stockholm syndrome?”

“We’re both in deep.” Kuroo admitted with a chuckle.

Chapter Text

Waking up in a bed rather than on the dirty cold floor of his cell was already surprising. After hitting Kuroo in the face, Tsukishima had immediately seen himself being killed or locked up again. Yet, here he was, covered in delicate silk sheets, glasses neatly placed on the bedside table, very much alive and unarmed. He rose and immediately felt a severe pain in his head. He found the bump inflicted by Bokuto when he had rendered him harmless and groaned. He had deserved it but the pain wasn’t less bearable. He pushed the sheets off him to get on his feet and started to explore his new prison.  

The suite he was in was probably reserved for guests. It was spacious and richly decorated. Nothing of use though. As it seemed, any sharp or massive objects had been removed, leaving him like a fish in a little pond, with nothing else to do than looking out the window to the indoor gardens and listening to the bustle of staff pacing up and down. It filled his loneliness for a time, before it started to anguish him. 

He didn’t understand the reason for his survival. Or rather, he wanted to ignore the possibility that it was because of Kuroo. Thanks to Kuroo. Deep down this prospect warmed the frightened little boy he was. Although, it made him tense not know what to expect for his future. At the end of the day and half spent in his new jail, the door cracked open, allowing Akaashi to step in.
 Tsukishima immediately stepped away from the windows where he was staring blankly at the fountains down there, and tried to put as much distance as possible between them. Akaashi couldn’t blame him. The last time they were in the same room, he had acted rather suspiciously towards the blond.

“How do you feel, Tsukishima?” he asked first, wanting to push away the memory of Tsukishima’s naked body so close to him.

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” The blond blurted. 

“You know why.” Akaashi answered simply. 

Tsukishima bit his lip. He wanted to insist, to rip the reasons out of his pretty mouth but he also didn’t want to know them. Acknowledging them would instil more pain in his head and doubt in his mind. 

“Bokuto-san got in touch with your boss.” Akaashi announced out of the blue.

Tsukishima contained the trembling of his lips at the thought. So many questions stumbled at the verge of his mouth, each wanting to be the first to come out. He bit them back still, not giving Akaashi the satisfaction of showing any reaction. He still considered him like a danger despite the upgrade of his captivity.

“We were so close to a war.” Akaashi kept talking. “Bokuto-san and Nekoma were ready to throw hands. But it’s not gonna happen.” 

Tsukishima listened in silence, wondering what had happened in the short time after his discussion with Kuroo. 

“Do you know that you’ve been the centre of a trade?” Akaashi said as if it was the most common fact in the world. 

That information took Tsukishima by surprise. Finally, Akaashi got the expected reaction. Satisfied, he continued.

“I told you, didn't I? We were on the verge of war. Karasuno tried to abduct the heir of Nekoma, angering both the cat and their allies, the owls of Fukurodani.”

“You fucking like to state facts don’t you? Or do you just enjoy listening to yourself?” Tsukishima hissed, annoyed by the man’s behaviour. He was done with the games, the teasing, the manipulations. 

Akaashi chose to ignore his provocation. “There wasn’t much to do to avoid a war. It would have cost a lot to every clan. Despite the anger our boss nourished for your clan, Fukurodani offered to serve as an arbitrator.”

“With which impartiality?” Tsukishima mocked. 

Akaashi bit back his smile, not hiding his amusement to Tsukishima. The blond strangely felt satisfied. As if all their duels had created some sort of weird relation of friendship. Not that he would ever call it that. Akaashi was far from a friend.

“We offered Karasuno to be cleansed of their actions in exchange for your life.” The man announced, choosing to ignore the rhetorical question.

Tsukishima stared at him in silence. Then suddenly bursted into laughter. “As if this would solve anything. Nekoma would never be satisfied. My life won’t appease the tensions between the clans.” 

“Well… you’d be surprised.” Akaashi said in staid confidence. “Sawamura-san asked for your release.”

Tsukishima felt his breath get stuck in his lungs. He hadn’t been abandoned. Yet. 

“Since he was worried sick about you, it got us thinking,” Akaashi kept explaining, slightly reframing the events of the meeting. “There was something to discuss here. To trade.”

“You have me but Karasuno doesn't have Kuroo anymore, how is this a trade?” Tsukishima pointed.

“It’s a trade for peace.” Akaashi stated unemotionally.

“And you think it’s going to be enough? As if I was worth peace.” 

“Kuroo sure thinks so.” Akaashi smiled. “Sawamura agreed.”

Tsukishima had endured cold showers in his life. He had suffered from Aki’s abandonment. He had faced the old Oyabun’s laws alone at the age of 12. If Daichi hadn’t been there for him, he probably wouldn’t have found the courage to live on, not as good as he did. The possibility that he had been abandoned again made his heart drop to the bottom of his stomach. 

“Tsukishima,” Akaashi said with a gentle tone. “We have started under very bad conditions, but today, I can assure you I don’t mean no harm.”

“I’m your prisoner.” Tsukishima spat. 

“You’re a prisoner wherever you are.” Akaashi shook his head. “We are offering you the truth.”

The blond squinted his eyes while a knot connected his eyebrows. “What do you  mean?” 

“We have arranged a meeting with Tsukishima Akiteru at the prison where he’s serving his sentence.”

Tsukishima felt a cold shiver shake his body. He hadn’t been sure if he could believe the story Akaashi had told him about the trial until now, but right there and now, he hoped it was true. For the worst it revealed, the betrayal and the manipulation of Karasuno, it also meant he’d see Akiteru again. That he would know where Akiteru was for the first time in 6 years.

“Do you want to go?” Akaashi asked. 

Not trusting his voice, Tsukishima just nodded. 

.

Tsukishima was staring at his feet while playing nervously with his fingers. He had been tense ever since he stepped out of the suite. No one stopped him or looked at him strangely as he followed Akaashi through the mansion to the front door, then into a black SUV. All the way to the prison, he didn’t dare speak. Akaashi didn’t impose any conversation either. Tsukishima was thankful for it.

Once inside the walls of the prison, he finally accepted the truth. Because the guards knew who Akaashi was talking about when he said Akiteru’s name. Because they were asked to sign a register for the visit. Because they waited in a stern room for the guard to lead them somewhere else. Tsukishima was slowly realising all this was happening. His brother was close. His brother was in prison. Akaashi didn't lie to him. Daichi did. 

They were led into a parlour after a short speech of recommendation. It was a small room split in half in the middle by a long plexi window. Several chairs were lined on both sides, with boxes to separate and allow some intimacy to the visitors. The room was empty, which reassured Tsukishima a little. Akaashi decided to stand beside the door while Tsukishma stared at their surroundings. He was pulling nervously at his fingers when a loud noise startled him. The door on the other side opened. He held his breath. Clattering preceded the entrance of Akiteru. He had aged a little. His hair, once long on his beaming face, was cut short, shaved on the back even. His eyes bore no happiness, until he met Tsukishima's. He froze in his tracks at the sight of his little brother. The guard behind him pushed him a little to force him inside the room. 

“You have 20 minutes, matricule number 236.” the guard warned before stepping back and closing the door behind him.

Akiteru walked over a chair and sat without a word, eyes still fixated on kei.

“You look well Kei,” he finally said, voice bearing so much emotion. 

Tsukishima’s lips trembled violently. 

“You’re an asshole.” he groaned, sitting heavily in front of him.

Akiteru smiled sadly, then looked over at Akaashi. The man bowed politely. “I’m Akaashi Keiji.”

“He’s the person who told me you were here and arranged this.” Tsukishima explained.

“I see. Thank you Akaashi-san. I’m glad to see Kei has reliable friends.” Akiteru thanked.

“We’re not friends-” Tsukishima cut himself facing Akiteru perplexe stare. Maybe developing about his current situation and true connection with Akaashi wasn’t the smartest idea at the moment. “What happened, Aki? Last time I heard about you, you were abandoning me and running away.”

“Is that what Daichi said?” Akiteru bore a sad smile.

“Tell me the truth.” Kei asked. It almost sounded like a plea. 

“If you’re here, you must know it.”

“I read the report of your trial but… why did Daichi turn his back on you?”

A short silence followed his question. “They needed a scapegoat. Someone to fall, to take the blame. Daichi was young and he was Karasuno’s hope for a better future. But at this time, he was still under the thumb of the Oyabun.”

“At this time?” Tsukishima repeated surprised by the past tense.

“He comes to see me sometimes. Once a year I guess.”

“He… comes…”

“He feels guilty for my fate. He couldn’t do anything to save me.” Akiteru shrugged.

“He abandoned you!” Tsukishima snapped.

“Yes. But he did look after you right?” Akiteru smiled. 

“That’s not the point!” 

“Tsukishima.” Akaashi called him, using a severe tone to warn the blond not to provoke a fuss. Tsukishima forced himself to calm down, conscious that he couldn’t shorten his precious time with a rush of blood. 

“I hated him when I realised what he did.” Akiteru admitted. “Then, with the years, the anger settled and now I just… I don't like him.”

“That’s not enough for what he did to you.” Tsukishima insisted from in between his gritted teeth.

“That’s reasonable.” Akiteru shrugged. “As long as you were safe, I had no complaints.”

“You trusted him when he said I was?” 

“Did he not protect you from the family?!” 

Akiteru’s sudden fear twisted Tsukishima’s inside. He realised that hope was all Akiteru had for years. He hated himself for wanting so badly to join Karasuno’s activities. Daichi had lied to him but he had kept his promise to Akiteru and tried to keep him away from the clan. It was his own pride that had messed up with that. 

“He did.” he said, not daring to mention the last events that led him to this very moment.

A relieved smile softened Akiteru’s features. A loud ringing suddenly announced the end of the meeting. Tsukishima cursed the fly of time. 

“It’s time” the guard announced as he entered.

Akiteru rose obediently. 

“I’m happy you came.” he said, with a smile too sad in Tsukihima’s opinion.

“I’ll come again.” Tsukishima shouted as his brother disappeared behind the door. 

He watched every second of his brother's departure, until the door opened behind him and another guard asked Akaashi and him to follow him. He stayed silent all the way out of the prison, wrapped in his own jail of anger, guilt and pain. 

Only once in the car, driving back to the Fukurodani mansion did Akaashi dare talk.

“Are you OK?”

Surprising himself, Tsukishima shook his head.  Akaashi slid closer to him on the back seat and pulled him in a gentle hug. The sweetness in his gesture forced Tsukishima's last restraints. He broke, allowing the tears to flow over his cheeks. Akaashi didn’t say anything. He let him cry his heart on his shoulder, not minding a bit the damp wetting his jacket.

.

He was sitting in a comfortable chair in front of a large and sophisticated desk made of steel and wood. Bokuto’s office was a 25 foot high ceilings room with one of the walls made of glass facing the views of the gardens. The desk was set up right in the centre, facing the doors. The rest of the room was deprived of furniture, except for the Italian cabinet following the walls, full with books and various items. A flight of stairs, still very discreet, led to a second floor, supposedly more of an overlooked area, but from where he sat Tsukishima couldn’t be sure. In all, this room was sleek.

Bokuto was on the other side of the desk, slumped in his chair, eyes fixed on Tsukishima.

“You look like shit.” he commented, referring to the blond’s red puffy eyes. 

“You too.” Tsukishima groaned back, more out of spite than actual observation. Bokuto was everything but looking like shit. His features were sharp but once you get used to them, they bore an appeal even Tsukishima couldn’t deny. His body, on the other hand, was flawless. The way his pectoral muscles shifted under his tight shirt, the way he had rolled his sleeves showing off the veins of his forearms, the way his suit pants hug his waist and legs making sure to display his muscular thighs, all that was illegally perfect.

He snickered at Tsukishima’s spite and slowly straightened. “Want a drink?” he offered.

Tsukishima stared at him, hesitant. He took half of a second to consider his options, then shrugged. “Sure.”

Bokuto raised and moved to one of the closest shelves of the cabinet. He pulled open one of the small glass doors, picked two matching glasses and the decanter of whiskey. He brought them back to the desk and poured the liquid into the glasses before leaning against the desk in front of Tsukishima, handing the blond one of the glasses. 

“Thanks.” he said. 

He took a sip, slightly wincing at the taste. He wasn’t used to such strong alcohol. From the smug look on Bokuto’s face, the heir of Fukurodani probably guessed it beforehand, which annoyed Tsukishima the most. Hadn’t he been humiliated enough by this man? 

“What will happen to me now?” he asked to divert the attention from the drinks.

“I don’t know.” Bokuto admitted with a shrug. “It’s quite a unique situation we have here. Kuroo still wants you safe. I’d rather have you dead.” 

“That’s honest.” Tsukishima snickered. 

“Can you blame me? You abducted Kuroo. You’re Karasuno. You’re a threat.“

Tsukishima tensed at the name of his clan.  “I’m not sure  about that,” he confessed. 

He meant a lot of things with those words. He was part of Karasuno, yes, but knowing he had been lied to for so long felt like a betrayal. How could he trust Sawamura ever again, now that he knew what the man had done to his brother. How could he serve a clan that resorted to solutions that put a man in prison just when he hit the legal age? Of course it was the gokudo world, of course it couldn’t be simple and fair but at least, Sawamura should have had the decency not to use Tsukishima’s resentment against Akiteru to fuel his need to serve the clan. 

Now, his affiliation to the clan felt wrong. There was a mismatch between what Karasuno had always looked like to him and what it appeared to be for real. Just like the plan to kidnap Kuroo. Now that Tsukishima thought about it, what kind of plan was that? How Sawamura hadn’t thought that it would go wrong? How could he have accepted to let Tsukishima be the one to deal with such a perilous plan? 

Like a lightning bolt, a sudden thought set in his mind. Maybe, Sawamura had set him up. Maybe he knew this would happen.

The idea was terrible and he decided to push it away. 

“Keiji said you’ve been deceived.” Bokuto said then, just as an echo to his thoughts. 

Tsukishima didn’t respond. Saying anything would acknowledge the possibility that Karasuno had abandoned him. Like they had his brother.

“Actually, Sawamura did sell you.” Bokuto shrugged.

“What do you mean?” Tsukishima snapped, eyebrows dangerously knotted behind his glasses. 

“Don’t you find it weird that we found you on the highway. The highway, seriously? And then at the motel? We do have men all across Japan but we’re not that effective.” 

The spectre of dread abandonment wrapped Tsukishima. He had some difficulty to order his thoughts with the pressure pushing against his chest and against his skull. So he was right. Karasuno did have a plan that made him an expandable casualty.

Bokuto noticed the silence of the blond and tilted his head to get a better look at him. He found himself shocked by the expression painted on Tsukishima’s face. He was staring blankly at a point in front of him, still as a rock in the bed of the river. The sadness in his eyes didn’t seem particularly intense but it held a strong emotion reflecting the violent turmoil that must be happening inside Tsukishima’s head at the moment. Bokuto felt the urge to wrap him in a tight hug to shield him from the world. He fought it of course, denying himself the right to look at Tsukishima more tenderly. He still considered him his enemy.

“Tomorrow, we’ll bring you to Karasuno before the meeting. You’ll have 20 minutes with Sawamura then.” he said instead.

Tsukishima raised his head to look at Bokuto, eyes full of questions.

“Sawamura has negotiated your freedom with Nekoma.” Bokuto told him. “He’s ready to go to war to get you back.” 

Tsukishima winced. Was it because Sawamura felt guilty? 

“The choice is yours.” Bokuto shrugged. “You’re the claim of the deal but it doesn’t mean your preferences will change anything.”

“What do you mean?”

“If you tell Sawamura you want to go back to Karasuno, it would risk a war Karasuno won’t win, and you and Sawamura will be blamed for it. If you ask to be released, it might cut you from the only family you have. None of these options are attractive.” Bokuto explained, showing a little empathy for the first time. Tsukishima’s gaze dropped to his glass. 

“You said you want me dead. What would it change if I leave or not?” 

“That you leave or stay, you’d be a pain in my ass either way.” Bokuto grunted honestly. “Tetsu is far too enticed with you.” 

“You know that’s not smart telling me that. What if I use it against him?”

Bokuto leaned, both hands finding a rest on either side of Tsukishima’s chair. The blond instinctively pushed himself back, a little worried of what Bokuto might do to him this time.

“Try and I’ll kill you. I’d rather have Tetsu mad at me than weakened by a fake love.” Bokuto’s words seemed to cut him in the flesh and yet, with the strong determination they held, it gave Tsukishima the courage to bite back. 

“I love him.” he confessed without thinking twice of the implication of his sincerity.

“That’s the first honest thing you said since we have you in here.” Bokuto grinned.

Tsukishima suddenly feared that he had fallen in a trap and just gave the heir of Fukurodani the stick to beat him with. Instead of looking down at the blond, Bokuto straightened and slightly changed his demeanour. 

“I’m just a mediator. I can’t and won’t help you. What I’m giving you though, is an opportunity to confront Sawamura for the betrayal against you and your brother.” he said, suggesting to Tsukishima that he shall take the opportunity to talk to Sawamura before he decides his own fate. 

Considering the wrong footing they had started with, Tsukishima found a new respect for Bokuto. The man in front of him might have humiliated him and looked down at him and therefore earned Tsukishima’s hate, all he did, he always did for Kuroo. And despite being a shitty fiancé sometimes, Tsukishima was now seeing his good sides, hidden under layers of responsibilities and actions to do what was best, as the heir of Fukurodani.  

“That much I can accept.” Tsukishima finally nodded. Bokuto raised his drink and clinked it against Tsukishima's as if they had found an agreement.

Chapter Text

It was the same hotel as the last time. This time though, the meeting was going to happen in the luxurious restaurant of the top floors. Fukurodani had have the main room privatised and empty of any waiters or barista. The henchmen were dispersed in every corner, covering all the issues and possible risks. This time, it had been decided that Karasuno would arrive a little early, by 20 minutes, so to allow Sawamura to meet with Tsukishima. 

When the blond stepped out of the elevator right into the restaurant lobby, his eyes immediately found the heir of Karasuno. Sawamura was sitting at a table in the middle of the room, far away from any indiscreet ears. Tsukishima’s throat tightened at the sight of this man he had pledged his life to. His eyes traveled passed him, over the tables where he spotted Sugawara, Tanaka, Asahi and Yamaguchi. He let out a shaky breath at the sight of his best friend, relieved to see he was alive and safe. Their eyes met for a split second as he entered the room, accompanied by Bokuto who was leading him to the table. The relief in Yamaguchi’s eyes warmed Tsukishima’s heart. He quickly looked away though, focusing on Sawamura who was raising to welcome him. 

Bokuto stopped a few steps away and out of habit, Tsukishima stopped as well.

“You have 15 minutes, Tsukishima.” 

The blond nodded. He waited for another comment, but surprisingly Bokuto didn’t insist. His side glance when he walked past him to leave was enough to tell Tsukishima what he thought of the situation. 

“ Remember ” seemed to be the advise his eyes implied. 

Their staring was broken by Sawamura’s movement in front of him. 

“Kei. You look alright.” the man said in relief.

The words sounded nice but rang false to Tsukishima’s ears. He hesitated. Should he ask about Akiteru now? Should he wait to see what Sawamura was planning? He answered his silent offer to sit and they took place on each side of the table.

“They messed with you.” Sawamura commented, referring to Tsukishima’s injuries. 

The blond shrugged. “It was a risk. Glad to see Asahi-san and Yamaguchi have been luckier.”

Sawamura threw a short glance over his shoulder to his men who were waiting where Fukurodani had instructed, so Tsukishima wouldn’t feel pressured by the presence of all his clan. Only Sawamura could talk to him and hear him. 

“You took the biggest risks.” Sawamura recalled. 

To Tsukishima, the event of the abduction seemed already so far away. He couldn’t let Sawamura think he was still the same boy that he had sent to Tokyo less than a week ago. 

“Why did you agreed with my dumb idea to spy on Kuroo?” he asked. 

“We needed to gauge our enemies.” Sawamura said in a tone of reminder, as if this was a conversation they had have already.

“No.” Tsukishima said sternly. “Nekoma is operating in Tokyo. They have less to no power in Sendai. What you needed was to assert dominance over Karasuno’s actual Wakagashira and the Kyodai. You wanted to reach this point where you negotiate with Nekoma a peace treaty on equal foot, so to shut them up.” 

Sawamura gave him a long defeated look before he let out a sigh. “I admit it was my hope.”

“You used me.” 

“You don’t understand Kei. Part of Karasuno is still loyal to the old Oyabun. I might be his heir, I still need to handle the politics if I want to keep the clan intact. I can’t let them have a war of ego or worse, try to remove me.” 

“So you used me.” Tsukishima harshly repeated, refusing to adkowled Sawamura’s logic.

The heir of Karasuno closed his fist in annoyance. “That’s what you want to hear? Then yes, I used your ridiculous feelings for Kuroo and put you in danger willingly. But can’t you see I’m trying to make things right here?! It’s not about you or us, it’s about the clan.”

Tsukishima wasn’t listening anymore. A high pitched sound rang inside his ears, making him deaf to Sawamura’s honest consciousness. 

“My.. feelings for Kuroo…”

The realisation of his own words made Sawamura curse against himself. He rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Did you think I wouldn’t know? You’re my little brother Kei.” he said with a sheepish smile.

“You knew about my feelings and used them…” Tsukishima managed to speak against his emotions trying to silence him. 

“I took them in consideration and decided that you’d be the most adequate choice with the fling of your heart.” Sawamura corrected, only making the situation worse. 

“You’re an asshole.” Tsukishima spat.

“Can’t deny it wasn’t a smooth idea.” Sawamura chuckled. 

Tsukishima decided not to give the man in front of him any more chance to justify himself. He’d rather throw him into the lion’s den and watch him rot without mercy. 

“I saw Aki.” 

Of course, a pause followed his admission. To his biggest disappointment, Sawamura didn’t seem surprised. Of course he wasn't. He knew about Akiteru. He did that to him. Whatever last foolish hope Tsukishima had, the resolve in Sawamura’s eyes finished to shatter it.  

“You lied to me. You used him. Us.” he said sternly.

“It’s more complicated than it looks.” Sawamura defended himself. 

“Don’t fucking use your patronizing tone on me.” Tsukishima shook his head. 

Sawamura respected his anger but had more to say. “You’ve lived in my house. You know what it was like with the oyabun ruling.”

“Was it his idea to use my brother?” Tsukishima asked. "For your crime?"

“I wish I’d rebel earlier, I truly do…” Sawamura eluded the question. Tsukishima didn’t need him to develop. Even if it had been the oyabun plan, Sawamura just admitted he didn’t oppose it and didn't search for another solution. 

“Why did you never tell me?”

“I was trying to protect you.” Sawamura assured. 

“You visit Aki every year.” Tsukishima pointed, not leaving room to argue with this fact. It also held a burning anger that Sawamura didn’t miss.

“I guess I feel guilty for his fate.” 

“What about mine?’ Tsukishima snapped. “What about my hate for Aki? You nourished it. You used it-”

“I didn’t.” Sawamura cut harshly, using despite himself the patronising tone Tsukishima came to hate so much in the last minutes. “All I ever tried to do was to keep you away from the clan’s affair, but no, you are stubborn, you kept barging in asking to be used!”

“I was loyal to you!” Tsukishima shouted, fist banging on the table. Every eye was drawn to them; Karasuno in surprise and confusion; Bokuto quite unbothered and rather curious. 

“I wanted to prove myself to the person who I saw as my real brother!”

“You are my brother.” Sawamura said in between gritted teeth, voluntarily using a lower tone to force Tsukishima to follow his example. 

“No I’m not. Not anymore.” Tsukishima spat, indeed using a colder voice. 

“Kei…” Sawamura tried.

“I’m asking you to release me from my oath.” 

Tsukishima had difficulty realising he had said those words. Fear settled in the peak of his stomach. The look Sawamura gave him almost broke his heart.

“Kei no.” the heir of Karasuno begged. “You brought this upon yourself but it doesn’t mean you have to deal with it alone. We can make things right without going to this.“

“Maybe.” Tsukishima nodded. “But I don’t really want to.”

“Kei…” Sawamura looked more and more deflected. 

“That’s all I have to say.” 

Tsukishima rose from his seat and without another look to his “ brother ”, he walked away. He stared at the floor, cursing its stupid perfection, until he was in front of Bokuto. 

“You still have a few minutes left.” the man reminded him. 

“That won’t be necessary.”

“Very well.”

Bokuto didn’t insist. He opened the path for Tsukishima, motioning Washio to guard the room. 

“I’m taking him to Kuroo. I’m leaving you in charge.”

This time, no fear wrapped Tsukishima upon hearing the name.

.

Kuroo was pacing. What else could he do? Tsukishima was meeting Sawamura just a few floors above and he could do nothing. His obsession for the blond hadn’t died down with the recovery of his memories but maybe he had gotten ahead of himself to think his feelings were mutual and especially strong enough for Tsukishima to choose him over his family. 

Now that the fateful moment was happening, he wasn’t so confident anymore. He kept telling himself over and over how powerless he was, in this room, unable to ease his demons. He was so deeply lost in his thoughts he didn’t hear Akaashi’s question.

“Kuroo-san.” the man repeated a little more vigorously.

“Um?” Kuroo’s head snapped up to meet Akaashi’s worried expression. 

“I was asking if you wanted me to leave.” 

Kuroo blinked, surprised by the question. “No, it’s OK. Why do you ask?” 

An obvious hesitation took over Akaashi. He was pulling at his fingers nervously. “You seem angry and.. I thought my presence was unwanted.”

Kuroo shot him a sidelong look. From Akaashi’s point of view, he was staring furiously at him and naturally, the man thought he had indeed angered the heir of Nekoma. Sheepish, Akaashi faltered and made  a move to leave, immediately held back by Kuroo.

“Wait.”

Akaashi stopped but didn’t dare look up.

“You’re still worried about how to behave around me.” Kuroo stated. He could see it clearly now. He had been so worried about Tsukishima he hadn’t realised it was the first time they were alone since he had recovered his memories. With no answer coming from Akaashi, he sighed deeply.

“I told you. I forgive you. You and Bokuto can date, I’m OK with it.” 

Finally, Akaashi deigned looking at Kuroo. His eyes bore a distress that set an unsettling feeling in Kuroo’s stomach. It was difficult to accept he was responsible for this man’s anxiety.

“Why are you looking like a kicked puppy?” Kuroo teased, trying to lighten the atmosphere. 

“Please don’t make fun of me Kuroo-san.” Akaashi begged. 

“You know me, I love to tease, but I’m serious, Akaashi.” Kuroo shrugged in return. 

Again, Akaashi didn’t know what to say and remained closed inside his silence. Kuroo had really made quite an impression on him that night at the club.

A little guilty maybe, Kuroo rubbed his neck while he searched for his words.  “To be honest, this accident that cost my memories has been one of the best things that could happen to me.” he said in the end.  

“Don’t say that.” Akaashi snapped, eyebrows furrowed dangerously. “Everybody was worried sick for you and seeing you like this wasn’t…” 

He quickly cut himself, not daring to admit out loud how it had felt. Unfortunately for him, Kuroo’s curiosity has been picked and he squinted his eyes like a falcon eyeing his prey.

“Wasn’t what?” he asked.

“Nothing. I apologise, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, please go ahead. What was it like seeing me looking at you and not recognizing you?” Kuroo insisted.

“Kuroo-san let’s not-”

Again Kuroo cut Akaashi before he could change the subject. “But please, Akaashi” he used an imperial tone, not at all begging but rather commanding. “Tell me. What was it like to look at your rival and not be looked back the same as usual?”

“It felt good but wrong!” Akaashi blurted angrily. “I was relieved you weren’t about to cut my head off and it was definitely pleasant to finally be looked at properly, but It felt wrong! You weren’t yourself entirely! You were you and somehow you looked too vulnerable, too fragile for our way of life! What if you hadn’t regained your memories? What if your amnesia had been permanent? Bokuto-san would have been crushed!” 

A silence followed his burst, making him realise he had raised his voice against Kuroo. And considering Kuroo’s look, it was exactly what the man had expected. Akaashi felt pathetic for falling in the other man’s trap so easily.

“You love him so much.” Kuroo smiled. 

Akaashi bowed his head low in penance. “I apologise… I overstepped my-”

“Oh would you shut up for a minute.” Kuroo rolled his eyes, annoyed by the agony living in Akaashi’s voice. “You’re right. This situation wasn’t ideal. It hurted people I care about. But I’m sincere when I say it might have been the best thing that happened to me.” 

More and more confused, Akaashi frowned, ready to fight him again. Kuroo raised a hand to shut him up before that. “What I mean is, if I hadn’t been amnesiac… without this experience of being a virgin of any memories, I probably never would have accepted the polyamorous solution for our couples.”

Akaashi looked stickened for a moment before he felt his face turning red. Kuroo decided to ignore it and kept talking. 

“I would have stayed blinded by jealousy and remained deaf to your and Kou' words if not for my amnesia. Talking about the poly-relationship while being amnesiac was probably the best thing that could happen to me. To us.”

Deciding it was time to settle this situation once and for all, he stepped closer to Akaashi and gently, with a tenderness he had never displayed before towards the shorter man, took his hands. 

“As a revenge, let me instil the first dispute of your couple.” He grinned, making Akaashi slightly concerned. Kuroo leaned forward, until his lips brushed Akaashi’s ear. Then, in a whisper he said,  “Know that Kou’ sold you up. He told me about your crush over me.”

The blush on Akaashi’s face intensified and the glint in his eyes told Kuroo he was cursing Bokuto right now. It made him chuckle. 

“And while I can’t answer your feelings right now, I do accept them and promise you to take them into consideration.” he said, straightening back.

Akaashi’s hands jolted in his hold and he averted his eyes to avoid more embarrassment. 

“You don’t have to-”

“I want to.”

Akaashi feared that his blush would become permanent now. The smile that threatened to extend over his lips was also a treacherous proof of his happiness that Kuroo didn’t miss. 

“So you’re sincere… I can really… with Bokuto-san?”Akaashi asked, still a little indecisive.

Kuroo nodded. “Once the situation with Karasuno is settled and before my wedding with Kou, I’ll take some time for myself anyway. Use it for you and Kou’.”

He had decided that earlier that day. He wasn’t upset at Bokuto and Akaashi anymore. He was at peace with their situation. Still, after everything that happened in the last week, he needed time for himself and privacy to put order into his head and feelings. His moment of reflection was interrupted by Akaashi who was returning the squeeze on his hands.

“Will you talk to Tsukishima?” he asked.

Kuroo should have bet on it. Akaashi was very perceptive. Of course he already knew one of the main reasons for this need of time. A sad smile slipped on his lips. 

“I’ll try to.”

As to answer his determination, a knock at the door preceded Bokuto and Tsukishima. Both men paused in front of Kuroo and Akaashi’s proximity. With the most natural ease, Kuroo let go of Akaashi, ignoring the man beside him who seemed terribly embarrassed. 

“He wanted to talk to you.” Bokuto pointed at Kuroo’s silent question as to why Tsukishima was there. 

Kuroo’s heart was suddenly filled with hope. Akaashi took the hint and walked over to the door.

“We’ll call you when it’s time for the meeting.” he said over his shoulder for Kuroo. 

He then guided Bokuto outside with a hand on his low back. As the door closed, Kuroo heard Bokuto questioning Akaashi about them holding hands. He didn’t listen to the answer though, his attention now focused on Tsukishima. The blond was standing in front of him, where he had stopped just before with Bokuto, wrapped in an awkward silence. He seemed lost in his thoughts.

“How was your talk with Sawamura?” Kuroo asked.

Tsukishima jolted, realising Kuroo was talking to him. 

“I’m sorry.” he quickly said.

Kuroo felt like his heart was freezing. Cold sweat accumulated on his back, making it uncomfortable to be in his clothes. He should have seen it coming. The rejection, the pain that would ensue, his own stupidity and his crushed feelings. Everything was his doing and Kuroo should have known better than falling in love with an enemy.

“You’ve nothing to apologise for Tsukki.” he tried to assure with a smile too sad to be honest. 

“I have plenty to apologise for.” Tsukishima shook his head. “I hit you, I abducted you, I lied to you…”

“It’s the way our world is.” Kuroo simply shrugged. Despite his disappointment, he was glad for one thing. He hadn’t misjudged Tsukishima. The blond was a good man. He wanted to hug him because he looked like he was in distress but he also didn’t want to do anything that would make Tsukishima think he perceived him as weak. Or worse, push Tsukishima in an unwanted position.

Instead, he decided to reassure the blond about the consequences of his choice. “I know I said you were the condition for peace but I’m not a jerk. I won’t create unnecessary problems because my feelings are one-sided.”

Tsukishima looked up at him in confusion.

“Later on, I’ll accept peace when Sawamura will brace himself for war.” Kuroo added.

“Wait Kuroo-”

“It’s Ok, don’t worry. That was selfish of me in the first place.” Kuroo sighed. “I guess I was trying to get back at you guys for abducting me in a moment of weakness.”

“Kuroo I asked to be freed from my oath.” Tsukishima abruptly said.

The words rang loudly inside Kuroo’s brain. He had a hard time believing his ears.

“You did?” he asked in disbelief.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” Tsukishima quickly warned. “They had it coming for lying to me about my brother.”

“Your brother?” Kuroo repeated, not at all aware of Akaashi and Bokuto's work about Tsukishima Akiteru. 

Tsukishima’s voice dropped and suddenly he sounded less confident. “Besides… You were right the other day. Our kiss at the motel meant something to me.”

Kuroo pinched his lips to contain his emotions. It was like exhaling for the first time in a long long time. His limbs felt numb with our relaxed they turned, all the tension leaving his muscles at once.  Facing the silence, Tsukishima decided to look directly at Kuroo. The heir’s face was unreadable. It made Tsukishima nervous. Was he angry? Had he played with him to get back at Tsukishima for his lies?  

“Say something.” he requested, his nerves very on edge. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

Tsukishima's eyes opened like two balls, not at all ready for this question. He gathered himself and pushed his glasses on his nose to hide his sudden awkwardness.

“Is that really all you have in mind?” he mocked, trying not to sound too pleased. “You should hate me after everything.”

“I love you.” Kuroo blurted, making Tsukishima blush. “I’m planning to date you and right now, I have nothing else in mind but my need to kiss you. Will you let me satisfy it?”

The way Kuroo used his words was far too dangerous. Tsukishima didn’t like how easy it was to fall for them. He needed to stay in control of the situation. He shook himself out of his giddiness to suppress the space between him and Kuroo. He grabbed the man’s collar without a warning and the only thing he said before he crashed their mouth together was a weak explanation for his surrender.

“As an apology…”

Kuroo didn’t have much more for a warning. The angle wasn’t ideal, making their noses bump and their bodies meet awkwardly. It was nothing like the familiarity of Bokuto’s kisses. Kuroo loved it at least as much. He soon closed his eyes and let himself be swept away. 

He teased Tsukishima’s lips open to slip his tongue into his mouth, appreciating the soft moan he received in exchange for the attention. He dragged the blond closer, his valid arm wrapping him into a tight hug. Tsukishima’s hands traced down his arms to his neck and while he slid his arms around Kuroo’s neck, he tilted his head to the side to offer more access to his mouth. 

They felt drunk with each other's touch, the heat of their bodies pressing against each other, the sensation of their tongues dancing together, the teeth nibbling at their lips, sometimes even biting the flesh. 

Their moment of bliss was of short duration. They heard a noise at the door, like an embarrassed cough. They parted, flushed like two teenagers being caught and turned to the door where Akaashi was waiting, politely looking to the other side. They doubted the wood panel was that interesting to stare at.

“Sorry to interrupt. The meeting is about to start.” Akaashi warned Kuroo now that he had their attention. 

Tsukishima shoved Kuroo away with a little too much eagerness. Fortunately the heir of Nekoma didn't take it personally and simply nodded at Akaashi. Before he followed him though, he turned to Tsukishima, his hand finding the blond’s arm in a very soft gesture. 

“Gotta go to officially steal you away.” He said with a teasing tone. “No change of mind?”

“I told you, I’m not doing it for you.” Tsukishima frowned. 

Sure they hadn’t talked about this upstream, and Tsukishima had mostly come to announce to Kuroo about his decision after the spur of the moment, but he hadn’t really thought about the after. He didn’t know what would happen from now on. On his part, it seemed that Kuroo already had a plan for it.

“It’s OK. You can fall in love with me when I return.” he grinned, poking Tsukishima’s chin gently. 

The blond rolled his eyes up in exasperation, or to cover his blush that wasn’t clear. He snapped the hand rather strongly. “You wish”. 

“Very hard, yes.” Kuroo winked on his way out and that was the final straw. Tsukishima knew he wasn’t going anywhere. As much as he hated it, this Kuroo was intriguing enough to stick around a little longer.

Chapter Text

The events which followed the signature of the treaty between Karasuno and Nekoma were numerous. 

There was no celebration of any sort to accompany the announcement of peace though. Karasuno took his leave in discretion. Kuroo didn’t miss the sad look hanging over Sawamura’s features. The heir of Karasuno had reached his goal but at what cost. Kuroo couldn't find in himself to feel pity or empathy toward Sawamura. Still, something in him led him to tell the heir of Karasuno he would look after Tsukishima. Once he heard that he didn’t have to worry for him, Sawamura bore a bittersweet smile and bowed his head. In return, he asked Kuroo to wish Tsukishima a happy birthday for it was actually a day to celebrate for the blond. 

The idea that this 27 september was actually Tsukishima's birthday took both Kuroo and Bokuto by surprise. Odd situation for a birthday. While Karasuno was leaving, Akaashi wondered if Tsukishima would forgive Sawamura one day. He didn’t know the blond enough to say but he could see it happening, one way or another. 

Afterwards, life came back to what it used to be. Or sort of.

With Tsukishima freed from Fukurodani’s hold, it seemed to be a new, fresh start. When he was asked what he was planning to do now, he admitted he had no idea. It opened a door that Kuroo didn’t hesitate to kick in widely. He tried to convince Tsukishima to come live with him for now, as a start. The blond bluntly refused. He didn’t plan to join Nekoma, that much had to be clear. He was done with oaths. He planned to do something with his life, as much as he could. Maybe take classes at university. Try stuff he'd always forbid himself as a member of a clan. Kuroo understood that pretty well. He insisted on providing Tsukishima with a comfortable apartment close to his own place and that much Tsukishima accepted. 

Yamaguchi came to visit him there. Not on behalf of Karasuno, just as his best friend. He brought all Tsukishima’s belongings and helped him settle in his new flat. He stayed only a few days, before duty called him and he left for Sendai again. What they talked about during his short stay, whatever they said about Karasuno, remained a secret that Kuroo respected and didn’t seek to unravel.

The first month passed in a blurr. Tsukishima had a lot to deal with before he even started to live as a normal person. Kuroo was there for him but the blond's pride made him try to do most on his own. He knew he was under constant watch. From Nekoma or Fukurodani, maybe both. It didn't ease his nerves. Even though Kuroo and him had started a relationship without giving it the name yet, they lived in the shadow of the circumstances of their encounter. The sweetness and modesty of their interactions slowly morphed to the memory of their heated kisses and soon they couldn't restrain themselves. Tsukishima was basking in Kuroo's love, absolutely stunned by his good luck that put his long-time crush on his path and allowed him to have his feelings returned. 

However, Kuroo couldn't free himself all the time. As Nekoma's heir, and after the abduction, he was more protected than ever, from both his clan and Fukurodani. Tsukishima found an unwanted but welcomed help with Akaashi then. No longer enemies, the raven had somehow decided to look after Tsukishima. Not that it had been very easy at first. The memory of his week in Fukurodani's hold kept tightening Tsukishima's inside. Time helped the process, adding to Akaashi's gentle nature. 

At Kuroo and Bokuto's wedding, several months later, Tsukishima sat next to him and finally allowed himself to befriend the man. During that night, he danced with Kuroo and maybe, in the dark, behind closed doors, they kissed. Not anything Bokuto didn’t do with Akaashi. Eventually, Kuroo and Bokuto left for their honeymoon, giving time to Akaashi and Tsukishima to cement their dawning friendship. 

The weeks moved on, then the months, followed by the years, and with another page turned, Tsukishima celebrated his 24 birthday. 

.

After the wild party thrown for Bokuto’s birthday, they had all complied to do something simple in the privacy of Kuroo and Bokuto villa in Okinawa for Tsukishima’s birthday. Only the four of them celebrating; Kuroo in the kitchen, Akaashi decorating the place and Bokuto keeping Tsukishima out of the way. He did that brilliantly, either enjoying a long promenade on their private beach, or sailing away to sunbathe on his boat, or in the early evening, pinning him to the bed for rather fierce activity. 

After 3 years of poly relationship during which Bokuto and Kuroo enjoyed both their wedding and their respective boyfriends, a new pattern had slowly drawn itself. The obvious pining between Akaashi and Tsukishima, and Akaashi’s feelings slowly shared by Kuroo too, led Bokuto and Tsukishima to naturally study their position. From hate, they had started to tolerate each other during the first year of cohabitation, then slowly, putting every pearl of sweat into it, made an effort to appreciate each other. And once they did, there was no turning back. Bokuto was far too caring and gentle and Tsukishima had so much love to give.

As it turned out, they ended up being more clingy with each other than with the two others. Tsukishima loved the fact Bokuto could carry him around effortlessly. When Kuroo pointed out that he too could do that, Tsukishima simply squeezed at Bokuto's biceps, as to say, you can't compete with that meat. Kuroo would take offence of it and do anything to prove him wrong, more often than not leading them to eat each others' faces. Only Akaashi wasn't a fool. He had understood early that it was Tsukishima's plan to have both Bokuto and then Kuroo's hands on him. He loved his scheming blond who could play innocent and turn the odds to his advantages (and not only with sex). 

On his part, Bokuto found himself absolutely mesmerised by Tsukishima's repository of knowledge. Being himself a curious person, he was delighted when Tsukishima chose to study a double degree of Law and History at University with additional classes in Biology. From then on, he could ask all his questions, even the dumbest, and Tsukishima would always take them seriously to give Bokuto the best explanation. Even do research if he had to. He would almost write papers or do presentations for that and Bokuto loved it.

This relationship of perpetual search for answers to hungry curiosity naturally drew them closer. Considering that, it wasn't a surprise for their lovers to find them naked, sound asleep in front of a documentary later in the evening when they came to start the birthday party.

The next morning, Bokuto woke up first. He moved slightly in the Alaskan king bed to look at his lovers' sleeping faces. He had Tsukishima in his arms, snuggled against Akaashi's shoulder, who was turning his back to Kuroo, himself, as usual, head in his pillow, but body facing Akaashi. He smiled and dropped a kiss in Tsukishima's hair before he slipped out of the covers. The furniture in the room was minimalist, just like Bokuto liked. The gorgeous finitions were still Kuroo’s taste, with the marble clad back wall behind the bed and the hardwood floor over which the morning sun gently slid. Tsukishima didn't give a single cell of mind to decoration, and therefore had never wanted anything special in the room. As for Akaashi, he had chosen the bed, that was his pride. 

Bokuto walked to the wall of glass to admire the breathtaking view of the ocean. He opened the door to enjoy the fresh air from the balcony overhanging above one of the pools of the villa. It had never been a special place to him before. It had become special the moment they became a polyamorous relationship. It was the place they were in when they had talked about it and decided to give it a try.

Bokuto walked back inside after a moment and left the room to prepare himself for his morning jog. Party or not, tired or not, he never missed his morning jog. One of his lovers would join him most of the time but that day, they preferred the comfort of the sheets to the sea breeze kissing their faces. Akaashi had woken up with Bokuto opening the balcony door. Once he was awake, it was almost impossible to go back to sleep. He laid down in the middle of the bed, Kuroo on his right side, Tsukishima snuggled on his left. With the heat of his lovers surrounding him, he let his eyes stare at the sea in content, enjoying the slow change of colours in the morning sky and perfectly settled in the middle of this view, Bokuto's silhouette. 

When his lover came back inside, he pretended to sleep to avoid a puppy look that would force him out of bed and on his jelly legs to run on the beach. On the contrary, when Bokuto came back an hour later, Akaashi waved him good morning as if he had just opened his eyes. Bokuto threw him a kiss before he slipped in the bathroom to shower. Kuroo woke up at the sound of the running water.

“Kou’s back?” his raspy voice asked. 

“In the shower.” Akaashi smiled. He pushed the bangs falling on Kuroo’s eyes out of the way to drop a sweet kiss on the man’s forehead. A pair of arms pulled him flat against Kuroo in return. He gladly let himself be handled until he was laying on top of his lover who still hadn’t opened his eyes. 

“You’re like a heating pad.” Kuroo smiled.

“Is it OK?”

Kuroo nodded. “It’s chilly outside of the bed.”

“Autumn has just begun.” Akaashi chuckled, not at all convinced. The weather was still very nice outside.

He let his head rest against Kuroo’s chest, basking in the soft sound of his beating heart and the gentleness of his hands running on his back. He realised he had closed his eyes only when he opened them again, triggered by the gentle rock of Kuroo’s hips rubbing their naked groins against each other. 

“Tetsu…” Akaashi whispered, grabbing his arms to push his upper body up and intensified the pleasant sensation. For the first time this morning, Kuroo cracked his eyes open. The mischief arousal sent a delicious shiver directly to Akaashi’s manhood. 

“I want your mouth on me.” he blurted. 

“Sit on my face.” Kuroo invited, apparently delighted by the prospect. 

Akaashi hoped that his sudden desperation wasn’t too obvious as he climbed on Kuroo and settled his knees on both sides of his head, his hard cock hanging heavily just over Kuroo’s face. When the wet lips wrapped around his head, it ignited an explosion in his belly and he had to hold the headboard to stay steady. Just to intensify his sweet misery, Kuroo moaned against his cock and gave it a long stroke. Akaashi grunted. He could guess the grin in the dark glint of Kuroo’s eyes. Like this, with Kuroo beneath him entirely to his mercy and still very much controlling the moment, Akaashi found it difficult to keep his breathing steady.

Deciding to enjoy the moment instead of fighting Kuroo so early in the morning, he threw his head backward and pushed his hips a little lower. Kuroo welcomed him eagerly. Taking his dick in hand, he ran his tongues down the shaft, from the head to the base, his other hand cupping Akaashi's ass. Without a warning, he took the head again and this time, sank all the way. Akaashi's entire body jolted at the sensation. A broken cry escaped his lips and his hands fell from the headboard to dive into Kuroo’s hair. The older man welcomed them, still bobbing his head in expertise. The more Kuroo sucked, the more he relaxed his throat to give access to Akaashi. Every groan he gave went straight to Akaashi’s dick, helping build up a delicious pressure.

“Can’t you guys have a normal morning for once? Just sleep in, you sex freaks.” 

Akaashi’s eyes fell on Tsukishima. The blond was groaning from the pillow his face was crushed in. Moving seemed to ask a valiant effort out of him. Akaashi licked his lips in pure hunger once their gazes met. The blond's hair was tousled around his soft features, not a wrinkle to ruin the portrayal. The way he laid on his belly, both arms hugging the pillow and the sheets resting just at the border of his ass, made him look obscene to Akaashi, who’s libido had woken up early that day.

“As if you’re any different.” Bokuto’s voice mocked.

Tsukishima quickly turned his head to the other side of the bed, where Bokuto, just freshly out of the shower, was climbing on the mattress.

“Don’t fucking come closer, you’re dripping.” Tsukishima groaned, trying to shush him away. 

Of course, Bokuto ignored his order. He pushed away the sheets to gain access to the milky skin, revealing the back of Tsukishima’s thighs. Deaf to the blond’s grunting, he traced up the curve of his body with his kisses, from his lower back to the birth of his neck, where his jaw and ear met. 

“Your hair is still wet.” Tsukishima grumbled in something that was more of a moan than a complaint.  

“I bet that’s not the only thing wet.” Bokuto grinned as he kissed his jaw and nibbled at his earlobe. And as to prove his point, his hands gently lifted Tsukihima’s hips to gain access to his front. The moan his lover gave him in return was devastatingly hot. 

“You’re fucking dripping too, Firefly. Did Tetsu and Keiji do that to you?” 

“If you don’t plan to do anything about it just move.” Tsukishima hissed forehead pressed against the pillow.

Bokuto jacked at the base, his other hand finding a nipple to play with. “I love it better when you ask nicely.” 

For all answers, Tsukishima pushed his ass flat against Bokuto’s groin and rubbed the man's growing erection through the towel that hung his hips. At the same time, he grabbed Bokuto’s neck and crushed their lips together, eating the surprised noise and feverish breath of his lover without mercy.  Bokuto fell into his trap like a drunkard giving in a new exquisite bottle. But before he could even start to enjoy this new setting, Tsukishima parted and with a winning grin bit down his lip.

“You know I’m not someone you can bend easily.” 

Bokuto grinned too despite the pain in his swollen lip. “We’ll see about that when I’ll fuck you so good into the mattress you won’t even remember your name.”

His promise said, he attacked Tsukishima’s lips again while he removed his towel, freeing his aching erection to push it in between the blond’s ass cheeks once. That wiped the smile off of Tsukishima’s face. He was forcefully pushed against the mattress, distracted from the fingers opening him by the burning lips feverishly swiping across his own. His cock twitched and his body bent under Bokuto’s hands and breath. Too soon, he found it hard to breathe and he pulled back, panting for air. Bokuto didn’t mind his escape and instead started to kiss the side of his neck hungrily, teeth scraping his skin just to leave a devastating need for more. 

Beside them, Kuroo has abandoned the sucking to catch his breath, giving long strokes and wet opened kisses on Akaashi’s shaft instead. He enjoyed the view of his husband and boyfriend while his free hand was following his tongue's movement. Once his fingers were slicked with saliva, he moved them to Akaashi’s hole and started to circle it gently.

"Tetsu.." Akaashi moaned on top of him, adding pressure to the hair. He was so lost in his desire he gave no mind that his usually flawless appearance was reduced to messy hair and foggy look. 

Kuroo kissed the side of his cock again and then swirled his tongue around the head, silently informing Akaashi that he was going back at it. At the same time he pressed his finger into the rim. Akaashi’s hand tightened in Kuroo’s hair and he had to remember how to breathe. The moment his head hit the back of Kuroo’s throat again, he lost it. His hips involuntarily snapped forward and next, not asking for permission, he started to facefuck Kuroo, who in return, pressed another finger inside his lover. The accumulation of sensation was pleasantly too much. It didn’t take long before Akaashi reached his edging point. At this moment, he wasn’t silent anymore. His pants had turned into small cries of pleasure and a symphony in which Kuroo’s name was the main note. 

Fortunately for him, his voice was mixing with Bokuto and Tsukishima's. The sound of their moans and the skin slapping was the melody that warmed their bodies and led them all slowly to their release. Tsukishima had his head pushed in the pillow. Fingers were digging into his hips to hold him in place as Bokuto pounded into him with pure primitive instinct. Sometimes, he leaned to kiss his neck feverishly, his teeth scraping the skin, then he’d straighten violently and pound harder. 

The cry of pleasure abandoning Tsukishma’s lips then was too much for Akaashi. Adding to it the frantic treatment of Kuroo's finger in his ass, he was suddenly thrown into his release. He came hard down the back of Kuroo’s throat, one hand in the man’s hair, the other feverishly holding onto the headboard. It took several minutes before he slowly started to come down from his orgasm. His breath not yet recovered from its release, he pulled back, trembling like a leaf, thankfully helped by Kuroo’s hands. His dick dragged wetly down the man’s chin who seemed ecstatic. He helped Akaashi lie down next to him, his hands stroking his hips and sides despite Akaashi’s weak protest. Kuroo kissed his forehead with his swollen mouth, seeming pleased to have been of use, eyes heavy-lidded with lust. 

"You're gorgeous..." he whispered against his forehead. To that, Akaashi could only smile blissfully.

Together, they witness the moment Tsukishima’s body failed him, trembling violently under the spasms of his release. Everything fell away for the blond. Only Bokuto’s hands were tangible, and the thrusts dragged him into intense pleasure. Gentle's arms suddenly wrapped him into a tight hug, sitting him on muscular thighs he loved so much, forcing the feeling of penetration to its fullest.  Glued as they were, when Bokuto moaned in his ear Tsukishima could’t escape it. It ignited something explosive and made his insides twist deliciously. In their drunk-like state, abandoned into their pleasure, Tsukishima came first, his hips moving frantically on their own, to chase the tiniest spark of fireworks raging in his muscles and accompanying the streams of sperms along his cock and on the sheets. 

A grin replaced Bokuto’s kisses on his skin. If he could have looked at his lover this instant, Tsukishima would have seen the intensity in his eyes. But then he wouldn’t have enjoyed as much the feeling of being filled by Bokuto’s cum. Afterwards, he moaned to accompany Bokuto, maybe a little exaggeratedly since it wasn’t as pleasing for him as it was for the man behind him. Still he knew Bokuto loved to hear him, so even if it was a bit fake, he wouldn’t mind. 

A minute or two after, they had fallen quiet, both trying to catch their breath. Akaashi and Kuroo were lost in the sounds falling from their lovers’ mouths. In the end, it was Akaashi who broke the silence. He suddenly grabbed Tsukishima by the back of his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss, with enough lust to make Bokuto and Kuroo green with envy. 

The morning resumed to a long series of soiled sheets, pillows thrown on the floor, teasing of course and love confession. In the flurry of feelings meeting bodies’ desires, the four men found the time and the spirit to talk about their plans for the day. 

They were still chit-chatting like teenagers later on the sunny terrace, while they ate a brunch featuring fresh produce from the sea, sugar and fruits for Tsukishima, prosecco for Akaashi and some of the leftovers from the birthday dinner. 

“I don't get it. Do they or do they not have a brain?” Bokuto asked one more time, completely lost.

“They don’t!” Tsukishima groaned, annoyed to repeat the same answer again. “Besides, jellyfish are almost exclusively composed of water.” 

“But how do they- move and survive in the ocean?!” Bokuto insisted, moving his hands along his question like a lunatic.

“They have a nervous system!” Tsukishima answered in despair. “They’re just like you, no brain, lots of nerves, and coincidentally I still like them.” 

Kuroo burst into laughter, discreetly joined by Akaashi, while Bokuto pouted, half taking offence at Tsukishima's insult. “A double degree is far too much power in your hand. You’re being so snotty with all your knowledge.”  

“Excuse you? Not my fault you didn’t go to Uni.” the blond snorted, grabbing the plate holding the last slice of his birthday cake.

“Speaking off,” Kuroo came into the conversation, half really curious, half to save Bokuto from another wave of insult. “Have you decided what you’re going to do now that you’re finished your studies and did the internships you wanted?”

Tsukishima let the fork hang from his lips with a soft wince. He had, but he didn’t know if his lovers would like it. 

“I have an idea.” 

He saw Akaashi put down his glass of prosecco on the table from the corner of his eyes. Bokuto and Kuroo, who were sitting in front of him, were giving him interrogative looks as they munched lazily. 

“When I was part of Karasuno, one of my roles was to be an informant, you know that.”

His lovers nodded and waited for Tsukishima to continue.

“Well, obviously I can’t do that anymore. And I won’t even if I could,” he immediately said, seeing Bokuto’s straightness to oppose and offer him the job immediately. “My past with Karasuno would put me at risk. They might fear that I sell information or use information against them.”

“Sawamura wouldn’t.” Kuroo shook his head. 

“The bond of rivalry and friendship you created with Karasuno is strong Tetsu, but Kei is right.” Akaashi interfered. “If he was to become an informant, his past would put him in the front line for false interpretation and risks.”

From under the table, Tsukishima grabbed Akaashi’s hand. His lover returned the gentle squeeze and took another sip of his drink. On the other side, Bokuto nodded in understanding. 

“So, what do you want to do?” 

Tsukishima took a long breath of uncertainty. “I’d like to be a law advisor.”

The general silence of his lovers was not what he had expected. He had imagined them frowning and squinting their eyes and bluntly opposed.  Not staring at him, waiting for the next word. 

“Like, a lawyer?” Kuroo asked first.

“Not a lawyer, no,” Tsukishima shook his head. “A shingiin, an advisor specialised in law. Soon you’ll both inherit your clans officially and I won’t choose between Nekoma and Fukurodani, that’s why I don’t want to be a lawyer. As an advisor and with your approval, I might be able to help both clans.”

“Of course you can help both clans!” Bokuto burst happily. 

Beside him, Kuroo was less enthusiastic and put one hand on his husband’s arm to temper his eagerness “Wait, Tsukki I understand the prospect, but are you certain? It means you won’t be part of any clan.”

“I know,” the blond nodded. “I don't want to be part of any clans anyway. Despite my experience with Karasuno it’d still feel like betraying them to enter another clan.” 

“As an advisor your position would be essential but also comfortable because you wouldn’t exactly be part of the gokudo.” Akaashi summarised.

“I don’t want other people to suffer what Aki has.” Tsukishima explained sternly. “I’ll be able to speak freely without bowing to an authority that will or will not listen, though that much won’t be my problem. It’s my right to speak my mind that I seek.” 

“You know you have it, Love.” Akaashi smiled, bringing Tsukishima’s hand to his lips to drop a butterfly kiss on the milky skin.

“I know, I wasn’t saying-”

“We know what you meant.” Kuroo smiled, wrapping Tsukishima into one of this gaze he had the secret of, that made the blond blush and feel numb.

“I don’t know why I was stressed to tell you about it.” he grumbled.

“Because you love us and our opinions matter to you.” Akaashi suggested.

“Stop reading my mind, you freak.” Tsukishima rolled his eyes, trying to take back his hand. Akaashi held it back, and instead, even pulled the blond closer. 

“That’s the second time you’re calling me a freak today.” Akaashi pointed with a sly smile. 

“Freak, freak, freak, freak, freak, frea-”

Tsukishima's stubborn provocation was suddenly cut by a kiss that Akaashi quickly deepened with one hand on the blond’s nape, bringing him closer. 

“Akaashii!!” Bokuto shouted, jumping on his feet to rescue Tsukishima.

Settling more comfortably in his chair, Kuroo was chuckling, enjoying the sight of his three lovers squabbling. At this very moment, he wouldn’t mind forgetting about the gokudo, the world outside the villa and simply get drunk with his love for these three people.