Satellite

Suga entered the apartment and walked to the kitchen, still in a daze. His phone buzzed in his hand.

From: Sawamura Daichi
Honestly? I’ve never been more excited for a Monday.

By this point, he was pretty sure that what he thought had happened, actually happened. He missed his stop on the bus, got off, ran into Daichi, had a blast volunteering at an incredible organization, and then got an interview at said incredible organization. They got coffee. They saw friends. Well, Daichi’s friends, but that was fine. They had only just met. “We only just met again,” Suga said aloud, like he needed to hear the words instead of just thinking them.

When he had woken up that morning, he had assumed that the day would be no different than the the last five Saturdays. He would get up, go out, get rejected, go home, wonder at his life decisions, cook dinner for Asahi, and then fall asleep on top of an empty notebook. He wondered what he had done in a past life to deserve such luck. He thought of Daichi and corrected himself. He wondered what he had done to deserve such a person.

Asahi wandered into the kitchen while Suga was distracted by his thoughts.

“How’d it go today?”

Suga jumped and grabbed the edge of the counter as he took a deep breath. “Jesus, Asahi,” he said as he exhaled, “how long have you been there?”

“Ah, sorry. Not long at all. Don’t worry. You looked deep in thought and I didn’t want to disturb you. Are you okay? What happened?”

Once Suga caught his breath, he turned toward the cabinets and started to pull out ingredients for dinner. “I’m okay, I guess. I mean I DID get an interview.” He looked over his shoulder and smiled wide at Asahi before turning back to the cabinets.

Asahi tried to fight it, but tears welled up in his eyes. He never mentioned it to Suga, but he worried. He had been worried since the day he left, five years ago.

“That’s, that’s wonderful Suga.” Asahi croaked. He wiped his eyes quickly, before Suga noticed. “When? Where?”

Suga spun on his heels and eyed Asahi carefully before turning back to the stovetop. “At the place where Daichi works. I ran into him and he invited me to volunteer. All of a sudden, I was scheduled for an interview on Monday morning. It’s nothing fancy, just front desk stuff, but it’s something!”

“Of course it’s something. How did you manage to run into each other? Noya said he saw you two at the cafe and I figured…”

Asahi heard Suga put the spatula down on the spoon rest. He didn’t turn around, but he paused to hear the rest of Asahi’s thought.

“Sorry! I don’t know, you guys were close last night and I thought you might’ve been out, together, on a date, or something.”

Suga moved to put lids on the pots that he prepared and turned to face Asahi with an expression that he couldn’t figure out. “He asked me to grab coffee after he finished working. He seemed so excited and I figured I owed him for getting me an interview.” He brought his palm to his forehead and leaned back against the counter next to the stove. “Was that a date?”

“Eh, I don’t think so. If he didn’t ask you on a date specifically, then you probably weren't.”

Suga lifted his head from his hand to look at Asahi before grabbing plates and silverware to set the table.

Asahi shifted in his seat and listened to the clinking utensils. “You know, he asked about you after you left.”

“What do you mean?” Suga asked as he put forks on the table.

“I mean, he asked how you were doing, or if you went somewhere new or saw something cool. I used to show him the pictures you sent, but then you stopped sending pictures. I didn’t know what to say most of the time and, eventually, he stopped asking.” Asahi released a heavy breath.

Suga sat down. The corners of his lips turned down and he rested his chin on clasped hands. He closed his eyes. “It’s so weird, Asahi. I feel comfortable around him, like we’ve known each other forever. He’s attractive, sure, but it’s more than that. It’s… it’s like love at first sight, except that it's ridiculous and not real. I don't know.”

Asahi cleared his throat. “Er, I’m not sure about the ‘love at first sight’ thing, but I do think that you can feel instantly connected to someone. You see this person and you have no idea what they mean to you, but you know you have to find out.”

“Speaking from experience?” Suga asked with his eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

Asahi blushed and looked down at the table. A certain smiling, tattooed barista definitely did not flash through his head. “I don’t know. I’m just trying to say that what you’re feeling is legitimate.”

The timer beeped and Asahi almost leapt out of his seat. Suga got up to turn the timer off and stir the pots again. He brought plates over, served them both, and sat down again.

He took a bite and thought about what Asahi said. “Okay, so I like him. I’m attracted to him. I want to spend time with him, whatever that means. He might feel the same way. But what happens when I tell him about how many dicks I’ve sucked for money?”

Asahi choked on his food and Suga looked at him apologetically. “Not everyone’s going to be a jerk about it, Suga,” he said quietly.

“I’m sorry for saying it like that, but things change when I tell people. Asahi, he’s just so good. My gut twists when I think of him looking at me the way people do when they know, like they can’t believe they fell for a whore. He might think I’m charming and perfect and wonderful, but,” Suga swallowed loudly, “they’re always disappointed.”

Suga brought continued to stare at his plate. Asahi reached across the table to grab Suga’s forearm. “Hey, Suga, you’re not your job. And you decided not to do that anymore. I mean, tell him when you're ready, but you should give him a chance.”

They ate in silence for a couple minutes before Asahi couldn’t bear the weight of it and changed the subject the subject. “So, tell me about everything, how’d you end up all the way across town again?”

Suga looked up and smiled. He recounted the events of the day while they finished dinner. Asahi tried to help clean up after the meal, but Suga shooed out of the kitchen with a smile and a wink. When he was satisfied with the way the kitchen looked, Suga went to his bedroom and collapsed on the bed.

Monday morning came and Suga stood outside of the huge warehouse. He ran through interview phrases in his head. ‘Thanks for having me!’ and ‘I don’t have much work experience, as you can see from my resume, but I have a lot of experience with people from all walks of life.’ Suga snorted. Something like that. His phone buzzed with a text message.

From: Sawamura Daichi
Just touched base with Kuroo. He’s looking forward to seeing you soon. Hopefully? Almost here?

Suga took a deep breath and entered the lobby, only to find Daichi standing in the empty space, phone in hand. He rushed over before Suga had a chance to step into the lobby.

“Suga! You made it!”

He smiled at Daichi’s earnest enthusiasm. It almost quieted the butterflies in his stomach. Almost. “I did indeed, on purpose this time.”

He laughed. “I’ll take you to Kuroo right away.”

Daichi opened the door for Suga and they both entered the quiet office. Suga scanned the room; it was an open space with rows of desks. Each desk had a little bit of personal swag, as if each desk was its own world.

In the back corner, Suga spotted a head of tousled black hair. “I haven’t seen Kuroo in five years and he’s still styling his hair the same way?”

Daichi put his finger to his lips. “Shh, don’t let him hear you say that. He doesn’t ‘style’ his hair, it’s natural bedhead.” Daichi rolled his eyes. Suga stifled a laugh as they walked to the back of the office. When they approached, Kuroo swung around in his chair to greet them.

“Kuroo, Suga’s here and ready to go. Are you prepared for the interview or should I show him somewhere else?”

Kuroo smirked. “Why hello again, Suga. And, Daichi, I’m always ready. Since Bokuto hasn’t deigned to show up yet, we can talk here.”

Suga looked at Daichi questioningly. “Um, Bokuto has a loud personality.”

Kuroo nodded. “That’s a way of putting it. No one can concentrate when he’s bouncing around like a lunatic.”

“You love him.”

There was a glint in Kuroo’s eyes. “I tolerate him. Now go do some work that’s not within twenty feet of us. Suga, care to sit?” Daichi patted Suga on the back and left the main office and Kuroo pointed to the empty chair next to him. Suga sat down. He was at someone’s desk, apparently, because there were about 75 tiny dinosaur figurines littering the space.

“Thanks so much for seeing me today. I hope I’m not putting anyone out?” Suga asked as he surveyed the toys.

Kuroo looked over at the desk, and then looked back to his own. He tried to find the paper he was looking for and responded, “not at all, my assistant won’t be in for a little while. I gave him a little time to himself this morning,” Kuroo stopped what he was doing to put his hand over his heart, “because I’m just that nice.”

“You’re not his boss and you have no say in his schedule.” Suga looked over to where he heard the voice. It came from a man with wavy black hair and eyes that were somehow both sultry and void of emotion. He glared at Kuroo.

Kuroo muttered something under his breath and looked at Suga. “Anyway, Daichi said that you came in to volunteer this past weekend.”

“I did and I had a great time. The staff was nice and the volunteers ended up being awesome people. Seems like you get people from all walks of life.” Suga clenched his fist and cursed at himself for using his only catch phrase for something that wasn’t even a question.

“We see a little bit of everyone here, though volunteers are more homogenous than you think.”

Suga swallowed. He wasn’t being asked any questions, was he?

“Huh, interesting.” Suga considered asking Kuroo what he meant, but was interrupted.

“Ah!” Kuroo exclaimed triumphantly as he pulled some papers from the bottom of the pile and handed them to Suga. “Here’s the paperwork you need to fill out before you begin your employment. Work will be hourly, 25 to 30 hours a week. Fourteen dollars an hour. Can you start tomorrow?”

Suga pinched his leg. “Oh! Yes, tomorrow definitely works. Thank you!”

Kuroo seemed pleased by Suga’s reaction and stood up, which Suga took as a sign that they were finished.

“You can see yourself out, though I’m sure Daichi is pacing just out of sight. See you tomorrow at 9am. We’ll go over your official schedule and start training.”

They shook hands. Suga thanked him again and walked out. As Kuroo predicted, Daichi was pacing just outside the office door. He looked at the door and his eyes lit up.

“How’d it go? Did it go well?”

Suga wondered that himself. “I start tomorrow morning, apparently.”

Daichi closed his eyes and relaxed his shoulders almost like he was the one who had gotten the job. “That’s fantastic, Suga.”

“It is! Though I’m not really sure how, I mean, he didn’t ask me any of the standard interview questions, or any questions, really.”

Daichi just nodded. “Kuroo has good instincts and his own way of doing things.” He paused. It seemed to Suga like he had words on the tip of his tongue and he was debating whether or not to say them. “And, well, you’ve probably heard this before, but you have this calming presence that I think people pick up on right away, like if you’re there everything will be okay.”

“Don’t get sappy on me now,” Suga said with a laugh. He laughed it off, but Daichi’s words caused a ruckus in his head. There was a lot he needed to do before tomorrow. “I should go and let you get back to work.”

Daichi looked at his watch and sighed. “Yeah, I do have a meeting in ten minutes. Enough time to walk you to the bus, though.”

Suga nodded and was about to go through the doors when they burst open.

“Hey, hey, hey! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

Daichi grimaced. “Good morning, Bokuto.”

Suga watched Bokuto sling his arm around Daichi’s neck and laughed loudly. Bokuto was a good hand taller than Daichi and wore his muscle well. His hair was dark at the roots and white at the tips and styled into what looked like two points. He had wide, amber eyes and a smile that danced across his entire face. He didn’t seem to notice Suga at all, which was just as well.

Bokuto continued to laugh as he led Daichi back into the office. Suga knew he should’ve just left, but he let his curiosity get the better of him. He stood by the door as they approached the man who chastised Kuroo during his interview. The more Suga looked at the man, the more enraptured he became with his expression, like people were when they looked at the Mona Lisa.

“AKAASHI! Hey! Hey! Akaashi!” Bokuto said as he dragged Daichi further into the office.

Akaashi glanced at Bokuto out of the corner of his eye, held his gaze for a second, and reached for something. Suga couldn’t see Bokuto’s face, but, from what he just saw, it seemed like Akaashi knew exactly what Bokuto wanted.

“Good morning Bokuto-san. I assume you’ll be needing this?”

Suga saw something purple and glittery in Akaashi’s hand. Bokuto let go of Daichi, put the purple thing over his neck, and turned so that Suga got a view.

Bokuto stood smiling, hands on his hips, with a huge glittery dollar sign necklace around his neck. Suga was sure he had never seen someone roll their eyes as hard as Daichi did when Bokuto barked across the room.

“Kuroo, hey hey!”

“Hey, hey, hey yourself. Is it time?” They locked eyes across the office. Kuroo smiled wide.

“Hell yeah!” Bokuto said as he slung off his jacket in Akaashi’s direction. He caught it without blinking.

Suga watched Kuroo rummage underneath his desk and pull out a large whiteboard. It was split in half with two names on top: Bokuto Koutarou and Sawamura Daichi. Underneath each name was a large number.

Kuroo coughed, “Alright, you fiendishly handsome owl of a man, what am I adding?”

“Oh, just a cool 15,000,” he turned to Daichi, who visibly paled. Kuroo added Bokuto’s new number to what Suga assumed was a running total. Bokuto threw both hands in the air to celebrate.

“I don’t ever remember agreeing to this competition. Bokuto’s corporate donors can give a lot more than my schools and mom groups,” Daichi mumbled. No one seemed to pay any attention to his self-defense, however, as they burst into cheers.

All of a sudden, Suga felt someone behind him. He turned around to see a young man, taller than even Bokuto and Kuroo, look down at him from over his glasses.

“Tsukki, welcome to work.” Kuroo said from the door. When he got there, Suga didn’t know. “I see you’ve met our new receptionist.”

The blonde, Tsukki, nodded at Suga with a blank face and turned to Kuroo. “Quit it with the nickname,” he said as he slid past Suga. Kuroo looked at him with a goofy smile and his tongue partially out. They walked together toward the back of the office and Tsukki (Suga would have to get his full name later) sat down at the desk Suga sat at earlier.

Suga took one last look before he turned to leave.

From the bus window, he watched the city scenery and, before he knew it, he was walking up the stairs to Asahi’s apartment. He had the place to himself all day, so he set up his supplies in the kitchen - laptop, notebook, writing utensils, phone, chargers. He considered setting up a fun way to tell Asahi he got the job while he browsed apartment listings on his laptop.

His phone buzzed with a text, so Suga tore himself away from the screen. It was a picture, a selfie with Daichi in the middle, half of Bokuto’s blurry, smiling face, and Kuroo in the background with his arms crossed over his chest and a cat-like grin. Suga looked closely at who he thought was Akaashi further in the background. He saved the picture and read the message.

From: Sawamura Daichi
Sorry for not seeing you out properly! And sorry for your new and utterly ridiculous co-workers. When I told Bokuto he walked right past you, he made us take this picture to send you so that you knew he was excited to meet you. Get home okay? Any big plans before your first day tomorrow?

His phone buzzed again.

From: Sawamura Daichi
Oh! How does Sunday afternoon sound for practice at my house? Maybe you could come early? Are you still okay with setting your writing to music?

His phone buzzed again, but this time it was a phone call from a number Suga didn’t recognize. He put the call on speakerphone so that he could continue to browse the internet.

“Sugawara speaking.”

My, my how formal! I trust you remember my voice after ALL this time.

Suga rolled his eyes. “Yahaba, I wasn’t sure you had this number.”

You can run, but you can’t hide! When you didn’t pick up your work number, I asked around for your personal one. I can be very persuasive, you know.

He cringed. Not many people knew his personal number; he made some friends in the sex industry, but it was hard not to see everyone else as competition. Yahaba had stolen more than a few of his clients and left Suga in the lurch, but he couldn’t get off the phone without making sure that everything was okay. Yahaba may have been a jerk, but that didn't mean he didn't deserve help if he needed it.

“I’m not in your line of business anymore. I believe you got the voicemail message? The one where I mentioned that I exited? What's going on?”

People are always saying that. I can’t keep track anymore.

“What’s going on, Yahaba?” he repeated calmly.

Well, now that you’re too far away for your clients to be worth my while, I wanted to help. Before you say anything, he comes highly recommended by people YOU might even trust, has a clean bill of health, insists on secrecy due to his CELEB status, and is willing to spend a fortune. He’s also handsome as hell. I would’ve fucked him and his best friend to high heaven if it weren’t for my, hm, let’s say vested, interest in one of their hunky associates.

Yahaba was fine, and he should've gotten off the phone, but Suga bit. “What’s the catch?”

No catch! He works with my person of interest and they’re headed your way in a few weeks. Before you ask, I was informed of your current whereabouts when I got your number. I have a way with people...

Suga sighed. Yahaba was very good at getting what he wanted. “I’m not interested,” Suga replied.

You should be. I think he would really benefit from someone as experienced and versatile as you.

The way he said ‘experienced’ and ‘versatile’ made Suga’s skin crawl. He heard a low growl on the other end of the line. Yahaba sternly chastised someone named Kentarou and Suga took the out.

“You sound busy. If that’s all you called about, I’m going to hang up.”

Mhm. I’m about to go, but, seriously, let me know if you want his info.

“I’ll give it some thought.”

And here I thought you weren’t interested, Sugawara. Talk soon!

Yahaba hung up the phone before Suga could defend himself. He had a job, but the extra money wouldn’t hurt. He could take one client, just until he felt financially stable. He thought about the phone that sat at the bottom of his travel bag, his ‘work’ phone.

When he reached for his personal phone to make a note of Yahaba’s number, he stopped to look at the picture that was still up on the screen.

Suga took in all of the details of Daichi’s face. His tan skin, his light freckles, the corded muscle of his neck, his inviting brown eyes. Suga thought of his nervous laugh, the glare he reserved only for Noya and Tanaka, and how he stared at him when he thought he wouldn’t notice.

He looked at Bokuto, at Kuroo, at Akaashi, at the office where he would start the next day. He thought about being in a band with Daichi, Asahi, Noya, and Tanaka.

“I think I’m good,” Suga said to empty kitchen and, instead of opening up a new note, he opened a new text message.

To: Sawamura Daichi
Tell him not to worry about it. You, on the other hand, might need to worry if you’re going to get more donations than Bokuto. Get back to work!

To: Sawamura Daichi
PS - I’m free all the time. Sunday is perfect.