Satellite

“This again,” Suga whispered to the reflection in the mirror.

He stood in front of the bathroom mirror in Asahi’s apartment, like he had the year before, and examined his reflection. He ran his hands over the lines on his face looked at his face and through his hair, which he had let grow, and figured he would have to get his hair trimmed before meeting up with his client later that week.

He swallowed the knot in his throat and felt his abs through his shirt. He was still on the slim side but had put on a couple pounds that winter. He pinched the little bit of extra skin above his hip bones and remembered the reaction he got when he told Daichi about the extra pounds. Daichi had scoffed and looked at him in utter disbelief. Suga smiled despite himself.

He moved his hands down his shirt and onto his backside. He turned in the mirror to get a better view. The pants he had on made his ass look great; the first time he wore them to band practice, Daichi had to keep excusing himself from the room, no matter where they were in practice. Noya and Tanaka had burst into laughter each time and Suga had to physically restrain Daichi from knocking them both into a wall.

Suga took one last look. The last time he was here, the only thing he could think about was how old he had looked and how awful it felt and, now, he was surprised to see that the face in the mirror reflected happy memories. He felt better about himself because he loved and let himself be loved. He felt a wave of guilt wash over him and threaten to tear at the happy memories that had been woven into his skin.

“Hey Suga, the water’s boiling! Do you want me to throw the noodles in?” Asahi yelled from the kitchen.

“Coming!” Suga yelled back through the closed door. He took one last look at himself and left to finish dinner for Asahi.

“So, what’re you going to do?” Asahi asked with a mouth full of pasta.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full, you brute,” Suga scolded. “I think Noya’s rubbing off on you, or rubbing on you? I don’t know, you haven’t told me anything...”

Asahi almost spit out his food and Suga laughed. He held his hands in the air to feign innocence and Asahi glared at him.

“Anyway, I have something to cover this month. You don’t have to worry about me,” he replied and took a bite of his food.

“You already found another job? That’s great!” Asahi said excitedly.

Suga cringed. Asahi’s smile fell and vexation crept into his expression. “Do you mean…”

Suga nodded in the affirmative. They ate in silence for a couple minutes before Asahi found the words he wanted. “But I thought you didn’t want to go back?”

Suga looked down at his fork and played with his food. He didn’t know how to respond, so he let Asahi sustain the conversation.

“But you could find something else now, right? With your job experience? Or work at the café while you try to find something? Suga?”

It was hard to look his friend in the eye but it was even harder not to when Asahi’s voice sounded so desperate. “I’ll keep looking for something else, but I need work in the meantime to keep my apartment, and…” Suga didn’t want to mention how much it cost to keep Hinata and Kageyama fed, or that he would gladly pay any price to keep his space, a space where his friends felt at home, “I’m not sure I have another choice at the moment.”

He tried to keep it light to avoid upsetting Asahi, but it was a fruitless effort. His brow creased with apprehension and he started to tap his foot.

“Suga, you know I’ll support you no matter what, but I thought you got out of it because you didn’t want to do it anymore?”

Suga shook his head. “I didn’t, I don’t, but it’s what I know. What else am I supposed to do?”

“I wouldn’t mind lending you some money, or Daichi-”

“That’s not an option,” Suga cut Asahi off a little more forcefully than he intended. Asahi sat back in his chair.

“Sorry, Asahi, It’s just, I came back here and mooched off of you, and then Daichi somehow got me a job, took my writing seriously, introduced me to his friends, and then what do I do? Lie to him continually AND ask him for money? I don’t think so.”

“You could just tell him. He wants so badly to help, Suga,” Asahi said quietly.

“Things are going so well with the band and everyone is so happy. Who am I to rain on everyone’s parade?” Suga didn’t ask so much as make the statement. He refused to be the one to bring everyone down in a sad attempt to lift himself up.

“We wouldn’t mind. We care about you and,” Asahi paused, “if this is something you want to do, that’s fine, but it made you miserable for so many years and I just, I don’t want to see you like that again,” Asahi spoke into his plate.

Suga felt the tears well up behind his eyes and pushed his chair out to go around the table and hug his friend. Suga put his nose in Asahi’s hair and put his arms around his shoulders.

“What did I ever do to deserve you,” Suga said into his hair.

Asahi’s shoulders relaxed, “you’re a deserving person.”

Suga hugged Asahi tighter. “I’m a liar. And a coward.”

Asahi pulled away a little so that he could look up at Suga. “You’re braver than you think. And you’re not a liar. Can’t you let us take care of you for once?”

“You guys have already done so much,” Suga whispered and scrunched his face.

“Please,” Asahi whispered back.

Suga wished it were that easy. “I… It’ll only be for a little while.”

Asahi nodded. They pulled apart, brought the dishes to the sink, and cleaned the kitchen.

“Aren’t you going to ask me why I’m hiring a male prostitute? Me, of all people?” Oikawa sneered. He leaned toward Suga.

“It’s really none of my business,” Suga replied with a straight face and polished smile.

They sat in large, plush recliners in a secluded lounge in a hotel two towns over. They had agreed on the location the day before.

“Hmpf. Yahaba was right, you are quite the professional,” he crossed his long legs and bounced his foot. “Though I do hope you loosen up a bit, Mr. Refreshing. I might have a lot of money, but I would hate to waste it,” he finished with a wink.

Suga suppressed the urge to throw his phone at Oikawa’s perfectly manufactured face and held it up instead. Their contract was on the screen. “I’m good at what I do, but, if there’s an issue that we haven’t covered already, we can discuss it in detail,” Suga answered with practiced politeness. “I’m not a huge fan of wasting my time, either.”

Oikawa clapped his hands together and laughed as he fell back into the lounge chair. Suga tried to finish up the notes in his phone and reread the contract once more for anything they might have missed. When he looked up, Oikawa was staring into his own phone and smiling like a kid who got the biggest brownie at lunchtime. He noticed that Suga finished up and leaned close to him in order to show him the picture on the screen. He grinned at Suga as he looked at the picture.

Suga recognized the people in the picture. Iwaizumi was seated at a table and the band’s drummer, Kyoutani, was across from him. They were holding hands? No, Iwaizumi’s muscles bulged in his forearms and Kyoutani’s face was red from exertion.

“They were arm wrestling and Iwa-chan beat Mad Dog-chan AGAIN,” Oikawa narrated.

“Oh, good for him,” Suga nodded. He started to gather his things so that Oikawa would get the hint. Suga looked at the time and worried that he wouldn’t be able to make it back in time to meet Hinata and Kageyama at his apartment. Oikawa got the hint, but he didn’t move.

“I didn’t realize we were done talking, so RUDE, Sugawara,” he huffed, still seated like a king surveying his kingdom. “As much as I love showing Iwa-chan’s muscles off to everyone I meet, I showed you that picture because Mad Dog was in it. You know, he’s the one that’s involved with Yahaba.”

Suga vaguely remembered the other voice on the end of the phone when he first reconnected with Yahaba the year before. He felt himself starting to gag.

“It’s how you and I got together, but you knew that already. Yahaba is practically a member of the group at this point and we look out for each other,” Oikawa spoke with authority, but the edge in his voice betrayed something else. Was he afraid? Suga didn’t know what to say, so he kept quiet and waited for Oikawa.

“This” Oikawa motioned between them with a wave of his hand, “cannot, under any circumstances, be mentioned outside of our,” Oikawa paused, “time together.”

Suga pointed to his phone again. “Agreed. We already set out terms in the contract that both of us signed.”

“Right,” Oikawa nodded. He searched Suga’s face. “Did Yahaba tell you why he put us in touch?”

“I assume it had something to do with proximity and discretion,” Suga didn’t want to bring up any of their discussions in detail.

“Hm. Yahaba said you were a good one. And that you seemed to genuinely care about your clients. And that you had a fantastic mouth. And something about how you took di-”

“Oikawa, please. That’s enough.” Suga interrupted. He wasn’t about to listen to this while he was off the clock.

Oikawa looked scandalized, and then the realization dawned on him. “I see. Shall we move to a more secluded location? You go. I’ll be up in thirty minutes.”

Suga gathered his things and went up to the room. He set everything down and looked out the window for a fleeting second before he closed the curtains and moved to the bathroom. He heard Oikawa enter the room.

Exactly one hour later, Oikawa sat by the same window Suga peeked out of earlier, but the window was open and the curtains pushed aside. He was clad only in a towel and, despite the activities of the previous hour, his hair looked immaculate. He had a cigarette lit between his fingers, but he didn’t seem interested smoking it. Instead, he watched the smoke curl out of the window and dissipate into the sky.

When Suga came out of the bathroom, Oikawa looked over and pointed to the cigarettes.

“Smoke after sex?” he asked.

“No, thank you though.”

Oikawa shrugged and moved back to staring out of the window. He looked like a completely different person from the one he saw on stage all those months ago, and even from the person he sat across from in the lobby earlier. Suga had noticed it during their session, too. His body reacted to the pleasure but his eyes didn’t. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to continue the conversation, but he felt the desperate need to reach out.

“Doesn’t smoking affect your voice?” Suga asked.

Oikawa’s head jerked in surprise and he snubbed out the cigarette before he turned to face Suga. “Concerned for my well-being, Mr. Refreshing? Sweet, but we’re done. Unless you charge for false concern?”

Suga rolled his eyes and laughed. “The concern is free of charge. I’m finished here, so I’ll get going,” Suga paused to gauge the situation. It was a risk, and totally unprofessional, but something in Oikawa’s voice urged him forward, “unless you want me to stay?”

He raised his eyebrow and gave Suga a once over with a disbelieving look. “That isn’t usually how this goes.”

It wasn’t a no, so Suga sat down on the edge of the bed and patted the area next to him. “This is kind of an odd situation to begin with, so take it or leave it.”

Oikawa was seated next to Suga with his head on his shoulder and Suga rubbed his back in silence until a phone vibrated across the room. They got up and looked for their respective phones. Suga found his work phone with no new message, so he looked for his personal phone, which, to his dismay, he couldn’t find. He glanced at the clock on his work phone and yelped. He grabbed his belongings and got Oikawa’s attention, which was a difficult task.

“I’m sorry, but I have to go. Did you want to schedule another session?”

Oikawa looked up from his phone. Suga couldn’t be sure, but he looked panicked. He looked back down at his phone and scrolled on the screen. Suga started to get antsy.

“Do you just want to let me know?” Suga asked in a more urgent tone.

Finally, Oikawa looked pleased. Almost like something clicked inside of him and he was back to the man he was in public. “I’ll have to think over whether or not you’re worth the cash,” he blew Suga a kiss and laughed.

Suga just nodded and ran out the door. He didn’t have time to deal with Oikawa’s ribbing.

A train and two buses later, Suga rounded the corner to his apartment in a full sprint, but, instead of the usual duo, he saw a brown mess of hair on his doorstep.

“Daichi?” Suga panted. He tried his best to wipe the sweat off his forehead and smooth his hair.

Daichi shot up off the stairs and grabbed Suga’s shoulders. His eyes were frantic.

“Suga! Jesus! You’re here!”

The panic in Daichi’s expression made Suga’s stomach lurch, the same way it did when they got the call from Tanaka about the fire. “I know, I’m late, I’m so sorry… Where are Kageyama and Hinata? Are they okay? What’s going on?”

“They’re fine, Suga, we were worried about YOU. Hinata and Kageyama called me and said that you were late and that they couldn’t get a hold of you. Asahi didn’t know where you were, either, and he got upset, so I picked up Hinata and Kageyama, drove them to my house, and then came back to wait for you.” Daichi kept hold of Suga’s arms but loosened his grip. He let his head fall forward onto Suga’s shoulder and let out a long breath. “You’re okay.”

Suga was at a loss. “I’m so sorry, Daichi, I forgot my phone at home and I, well, I feel like a jerk.”

Daichi pulled his head up and rubbed circles on Suga’s back. “Aw, Suga, you’re nothing of the sort. Just remember your damn phone next time! Where were you anyway?”

“Just boring job search stuff,” Suga answered quickly.

“Oh! Great! Any luck?”

The way Daichi looked at him made his heart race. He needed to change the subject, fast. “Sort of! Um, do you want to come in?”

They walked up the stairs and Suga felt Daichi’s hand on the back of his shirt like he was afraid to let go. He took deep breaths to calm his pounding heart.

Once they were inside, Daichi ordered take-out and Suga ran to the bathroom to check for marks. He found none. He took a little extra time to compose himself and joined Daichi in his living room.

“So, I got some news from Ukai today,” Daichi said with a nonchalant shrug.

“Oh?” Suga asked in between mouthfuls of rice straight from the take-out container.

He looked like a five year old tasked with a secret that he desperately wanted to spill. “How would you feel about, oh, I don’t know, playing a gig there?”

Suga dropped the container he held and mouthed “no.”

“Yes! We’d be the main act. For a full set. On a stage.”

Suga jumped across the table and wrapped his arms around Daichi’s neck. He squeezed until he heard Daichi cough. “That’s freaking amazing! Yes! Wow! When?!”

“I haven’t told the guys yet,” Daichi rubbed the back of his neck, “ah, the show would be in two weeks. Two weeks from today.”

“You think Hinata and Kageyama will be ready for a show that soon?” Suga asked.

“You tell me,” Daichi asked seriously.

“They’ve certainly got the energy and motivation to practice. And the talent to pull it off. I guess we’ll just have to see!”

Daichi seemed pleased with Suga’s answer. “Awesome. I’ll round up the gang and get them to practice as much as possible. Noya and Tanaka have their housewarming party the weekend before the show, but that might be good. Give them a chance to let out all of their… excess energy.”

They shared a laugh and Suga cleared the containers from the table.

“It’s getting kind of late,” Suga mentioned when he saw the time. It was a weeknight, after all.

“Yeah,” Daichi said quietly. “Work sucks without you.”

The words stung, but he laughed to try to lift Daichi’s spirits. “So you’ve said. Oh! You should hold volunteer receptionist auditions. Must be willing to talk to belligerent salespeople on the phone. Must know to knock on the door to the supply closet before getting printer paper,” Suga laughed and plopped down next to Daichi on the couch.

Daichi hummed and looked at Suga. “We’ll have to put something about appearance on there too, if we’re going to really replace you.”

“Will you now? Let’s see. Non-profit seeing new volunteer receptionist. Candidate must be male, 5 feet 9 inches…”

Daichi let out a loud laugh, “Now you’re 5’9”, huh? Pretty sure you came in just under...”

“You want to start, Daichi? You who say you’re a whooping 5’10” when I believe you were more than a couple hairs shorter,” Suga poked Daichi repeatedly in the side, which made them both laugh.

When the giggling subsided, Daichi added, “You forgot a couple things for our new receptionist.”

Suga yawned. “Did I?”

Daichi hummed. “Mhm. You forgot warm eyes, a bright smile, a perfect mark right below the left eye,” he put his hand on Suga’s cheek and ran his thumb over the mark.

Suga’s voice caught in his throat and all that came out was a shaky exhale. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t happen.

“Yup, and silky hair like starlight that just begs to be touched,” Daichi added and pushed Suga’s bangs out of his face and tucked them behind his ear with his other hand.

Suga tried to pull away, he really did, but Daichi’s hands cupped his face so softly and his hands fit perfectly against his skin. Daichi looked all over Suga’s face before he met his eyes.

“Sugawara Koushi,” Daichi murmured.

“Sawamura Daichi,” Suga murmured back.

“I’m in love with you.”

Daichi closed the distance between them and took Suga’s bottom lip between his own. Suga swung his leg over Daichi’s lap and kneeled with one knee on either side of Daichi’s hips. He leaned in to return the kiss and Daichi lost it.

“Suga, Koushi,” he cooed between kisses, “I’m so lucky, god,” he trailed kisses all over Suga’s face and moved down his neck.

Suga let his head fall back, but, as soon as he closed his eyes, Oikawa’s face flashed behind his eyelids. He closed his eyes tighter to try to stop the tears from falling.

He tensed and pulled away from Daichi, who stared at him dumbfounded, his lips red and cheeks flushed. At least I got to see him like this once, Suga thought to himself as he lifted his leg and pulled away from the man he loved.

“Daichi, I - I can’t do this,” he said softly.

Daichi stared in front of him and slowly turned to look at Suga. His mouth was set in a thin line and his face was calm, but his eyes were wide with confusion and fear. He moved further away from Suga, but decided that wasn’t far enough. He got up off the couch and paced back and forth before he stopped in front of Suga. He kneeled down and grabbed Suga’s hands.

“Are you okay? I’m sorry, I sort of lost control for a minute.”

Suga nodded and tried to motion that it was okay, but the tears rolled freely down his cheeks and he felt himself burn with self-loathing. “It’s fine, you’re fine.”

“It’s not fine, Suga, please, are you okay?”

“Yes. Don’t be sorry. Please, don’t be sorry, it’s my fault,” Suga croaked, “it’s all my fault. I’m sorry. It’s me,” Suga motioned down to his body, “I’m not, you wouldn’t,” Suga choked on a sob, “you don’t know me.”

Daichi rubbed his thumbs over Suga’s hands and rubbed the tears off Suga’s face. “Suga, I love you. I mean it. You can tell me anything, everything.”

This is the moment, Suga thought. He had the chance to set everything straight, to be honest with the man that loved him and to move forward. To love him back. Asahi told him to trust them. Yaku told Lev and they were happy. It was so easy.

“I can’t,” Suga swallowed and sat up straight. He took his hands from Daichi’s and rubbed his face. He was never good enough for Daichi, not from day one, not now, not ever.

“Okay,” Daichi smiled despite the tear-stained cheeks. “Suga, do you need me to stay? Or do you want me to go?”

Suga cleared his throat and got up from the couch. He wrapped his arms around Daichi’s neck and hugged him.

“I think I need some time,” Suga said into Daichi’s neck. “Did I ruin everything?”

Daichi moved back to look him in the eye. “Suga, no, I’m the one who… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward.”

“No, don’t be sorry, don’t ever be sorry. Please tell me we’re still friends?” Suga implored.

“Of course. We’re in this together, remember?” Daichi smiled the best he could and let go of Suga’s hand. He put on his shoes, opened the door, and paused in the doorway. “See you in a couple days for band practice?”

“If you’ll have me,” Suga asked in a small voice.

“You never have to ask,” Daichi did his best to reassure him, but his every word and every gesture was drenched in heartache. “See you in a few days. And, Suga, and if you want to talk. I’ll listen.”

Suga watched Daichi leave his apartment. He barely made it to the couch before he collapsed under his own weight.