
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10748631.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      Multi
  Fandom:
      Haikyuu!!
  Relationship:
      Sawamura_Daichi/Sugawara_Koushi, Akaashi_Keiji/Bokuto_Koutarou, Hinata
      Shouyou_&_Kageyama_Tobio, Kozume_Kenma_&_Kuroo_Tetsurou
  Character:
      Sawamura_Daichi, Sugawara_Koushi, Kageyama_Tobio, Kozume_Kenma, Bokuto
      Koutarou, Kuroo_Tetsurou, Hinata_Shouyou, Akaashi_Keiji
  Additional Tags:
      Recreational_Drug_Use, Explicit_Sexual_Content, Homophobia, Implied/
      Referenced_Child_Abuse, Eating_Disorders, Drunk_Driving, Rape/Non-con
      Elements, Sex_Addiction, Body_Dysphoria, Other_Additional_Tags_to_Be
      Added, Eventual_Relationships
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-28 Updated: 2018-03-28 Chapters: 10/? Words: 22329
****** Growth ******
by blossomatris
Summary
     (Next Update: April 18, 2018)
     If they could get out of this god awful sea side town, they would.
     But since they can't, they might as well make the best of it - no
     matter the consequences.
Notes
     - Kageyama Tobio
     - Implied Drug Use
     - Vulgar Language
     - 2161 Words
***** Between the Couch Cushions *****
Chapter Summary
     Collection #1... High Enough by K. Flay
                                                                   Collection 1
 
His mom was passed out drunk again, her body half on the couch and half on the
floor. There were a few bottles of beer around her and a snubbed out cigarette
in the ashtray. The entire living room smelled of putrid sweat and Kageyama
could feel it slither across his tongue and down his throat, making him gag
slightly.
                He looked out the dirty, smoke covered window, lazily scanning
the street outside. He could see the dog across from them barking aggressively,
it’s muzzle squished between the gate, it’s lips twisted up in a snarl as a
mother with a stroller walked by.
                Kageyama rubbed his chest. It was hard to breathe. A window
needed to be opened or something. He picked up the empty bottles from the floor
and carried them to the trash. After dumping them, he pushed open the kitchen
window, grunting with effort.
                “Mom, I’m going to go out for a bit,” Kageyama called, knowing
his mother wouldn’t hear him. “Hinata’s waiting for me. My phone’ll be on. Call
if you need anything, yeah?”
                His mom didn’t move. Kageyama cocked his head, zeroing in on
her chest and looking for the rise and fall of breathing.
                Mom, going out. Will be back before eleven. Phone is on. Call
if you need anything.
                           -          Love, Tobi
                Kageyama propped the note up against the ashtray, pressed a
kiss to his mom’s forehead, and then quietly slipped out of the house.
                The Doberman across the street rattled the gate as it roared
its obscenities at Kageyama. He gave the dog a paper thin smile and walked away
from his hellish neighbourhood.
                                     * * *
“Kageyama~! I thought I’d been stood up!” Hinata cried, his fiery hair snapping
around in the wind. He was standing on a thick, cement siding—just above the
sea water. Yamaguchi was beside him, sitting down with his back to the open
ocean.
                Kageyama gave Yamaguchi’s dangling foot a light kick in
greeting before looking up at Hinata. “I might have considered it.”
                Hinata jumped down, using Kageyama’s shoulders as support,
saying, “So rude! I thought our relationship was going really well. Don’t you
think so Yama?” Hinata propped up on his toes and pressed a kiss to Kageyama’s
cheek, clinging to his neck. “Oh, please, don’t leave me, Tobio, my love! You
give meaning to my life! I would die without you!”
                “Get the fuck off, Shouyou,” Kageyama grumbled. He tugged at
Hinata’s unrelenting arms. “I thought we were supposed to be getting Yamaguchi
to Tsukishima’s. He’s probably losing his shit. And he’s going to blame it on
me.”
                “You guys really didn’t need to—ˮ
                Hinata bend backwards, nearly completely in half, hanging from
Kageyama’s shoulders and looked at their pale, acne and freckle dotted friend.
“Of course we did! You’re our friend, Yama. We don’t want anything to happen to
you. And it was upon Tsukishima’s request! I feel honouredto be needed by that
dick-slit.”
                Yamaguchi cringed and got to his feet, brushing the back of his
pants off of dust and dirt. “I… Thanks, you guys,” he said, looking down at his
feet.
               “No problem,” Kageyama said, nonchalantly tearing Hinata off and
shoving him away. He ignored the ginger’s complaints and started down the
walkway. It was downhill for a way, if slightly, which was definitely better
than the uphill walk Kageyama had had to trek through on the way there.
               As they walked, Kageyama behind Yama and Hinata, the wind died
down as it got stuck behind the shops and other buildings. Hinata’s hair
remained in disarray. A one point, Kageyama witnessed a toddler stumble over
her own feet and crash upwards on the hill. Yamaguchi’s bag was unzipped
slightly, and Kageyama fixed it. It was a little bit cold. It smelled like fish
and the ocean. The alleyways between the buildings were dark and intimidating.
              “Oi! Hinata!” Kageyama snapped, face darkening as Hinata dodged
into a building, dragging Yamaguchi behind him. Kageyama pushed the door open
himself, listening to a little bell above him tinkle faintly. Hinata was
already pressed up against the glass display case at the front of the small
bakery.
             “We don’t have time or money for snacks right now, dumbass,”
Kageyama hissed. He jabbed a finger between Hinata’s shoulder blades. Yamaguchi
looked nervous.
              Hinata pouted. “It smells so good though! And a hot chocolate or
hot tea would be so nice right now! It’s cold out there. Not nice at all.”
              Kageyama glared and curled his hand around Hinata’s bicep,
dragging him back out to the street, Yamaguchi trailing after them.
              “Yamaguchi just wants to get to Tsukishima’s, okay?” Hinata
glanced at the freckled brunette and then back at Kageyama’s stormy face. “Your
antics aren’t appreciated right now.”
              Hinata glared, hurt by Kageyama’s words, but quieted down and
kept a straight line to Tsukishima’s for the rest of the walk. The sketchy,
dark elevator leading up to Tsukishima’s apartment was creaky and smelled of
sex. Kageyama made sure not to touch anything, snapping at Hinata to do the
same.
               Tsukishima’s apartment building wasn’t the nicest. It wasn’t in
the nicest of neighbourhoods. It wasn’t really the nicest to look at. It didn’t
have the nicest apartments. But it was what the cocky blond could afford.
               The stained carpet down the gross yellow hallway was covered in
dried dirt. There was a dent in one wall.
              “Tsukki?” Yamaguchi called, pushing up apartment 72’s door. “It’s
me. And Kageyama and Hinata. We’re coming in, okay?”
              “Yeah, okay, whatever,” Tsukishima’s droll voice responded from
just around the corner. “Take your shoes off.”
               Kageyama toed off his runners, kicking them against the wall and
out of the way. Yamaguchi slid off his cargo boots and neatly placed them on
the mat in the corner, doing the same with Hinata’s and Kageyama’s shoes.
               “Smells like shit in here.” Kageyama commented, nose wrinkling
as he wandered into the tiny kitchen where Tsukishima was at the stove, making
an omelette. Hinata peered around the tall blond.
               “Ooh, can you make me one?”
                Tsukishima barely acknowledged Hinata. Instead, he brushed by
the two and slid the omelette onto a plate, putting it on the table with a
glass of milk. He pulled the chair out and said to Yamaguchi, “Eat. I’ll run a
bath.”
                “Thanks, Tsukki,” Yamaguchi said faintly, twisting his fingers
and delicately seating himself in front of the hot plate of food. Hinata sat
down in front of him, eyes sparkling as he watched him eat the egg slowly.
Kageyama rolled his eyes, disappearing into the stuffed living room and
collapsing on the sofa.
                When Tsukishima came from the hall, the sound of the bath
filling with water trailing after him, he looked at Kageyama and quietly said,
“Thanks. For bringing him here.”
                “We’re doing it for him, not you,” Kageyama responded bitterly.
                “I said thank you,” Tsukishima firmly reinstated.
                Kageyama sighed. “Yeah, you’re welcome.”
               Tsukishima left, going back to the kitchen. He said something to
Hinata, resulting in the orange haired boy loudly complaining and screeching
his chair back. Kageyama stared at the water stained roof tiles above him. His
hand absently ran between the couch cushions, but Tsukishima was too much of a
neat freak to have anything—let alone of value—between them.
               If he was lucky at home, he could find a joint or two between
the cushions, or a bottle of pills. Ever since he was little, Kageyama was
shifting through couches for change and knick-knacks. Now all he wanted was
some drugs.
               There was shouting coming from the room above, and there were
angry steps thudding on the floor. Kageyama hated Tsukishima’s apartment
building almost as much as he hated Tsukishima. It was a tough call. He
couldn’t imagine that Tsukishima’s apartment was more of a safe place to
Yamaguchi than his own home was.
                Kageyama liked his home. It was just his mom and him—it had
always been that way. Sure, his mom smoked too much and drank too much and
pretended like she didn’t take a million illegal, non-prescribed drugs, but his
mom and him had a nice relationship. She never really rose her voice, and she
never ever rose a hand to him. She did her best to get up every morning to make
breakfast for him before he went to school. They exchanged honest ‘I love you’s
regularly.
                Kageyama didn’t know much of Yamaguchi’s home life, but
Tsukishima did and it was only when Yamaguchi’s home life came up did Kageyama
see actual concern and worry cross Tsukishima Kei’s face. Whatever the
situation was, it was obviously bad enough for Tsukishima to feel some inkling
of emotion.
                “Tsukki doesn’t want us here,” Hinata said, flopping down on
the couch beside Kageyama. “Can we go? We should go find Kenma or something. Or
anyone other than Tsukishima. We should go visit Akaashi and Suga at work. I’m
really bored.”
                “Where’s Noya?”
                “With Asahi,” Hinata mused. “They went out to the shops. On a
little date. Noya said I wasn’t invited.”
                “What about Natsu? Where’s she right now?”
                “I took her to a friend’s when I left. Noya said he’d pick her
up when he heads back.”
                Kageyama side eyed his friend and then heaved a sigh. “I guess
we can go visit Akaashi and Suga. Kei, we’re leaving!”
                Tsukishima gave Kageyama sweltering glare as the two put their
shoes back on. They said goodbye—Kageyama only acknowledging Yamaguchi—before
going back down the gross hall, disappearing back down in the rickety elevator,
and then stepping foot onto the blustering sidewalk again.
                They hopped on a bus, riding it for nearly twenty minutes
before hopping off and walking the final block to the restaurant. The bell
above the door jingled as they entered and the girl at the cash register
glanced up. She didn’t give them a greeting.
                Hinata slid into a chair at the counter and asked her,
“Sugawara or Akaashi working today?”
                “And what if they are?” she grumbled, jotting something down on
a notepad.
                “C’mon, Saeko,” Hinata whined, stretching his arms out in front
of him and banging his head on the counter. “You guys aren’t very busy.”
                The busty blond bit at a gel nail. “Akaashi’s in the kitchen.
Let me know if you find Suga, his break ended ten minutes ago, and I haven’t
seen him back yet.”
                Kageyama followed Hinata around the back of the counter and
into the warm kitchen. Two other employees gave them unhappy looks, but didn’t
say anything as they disappeared around to the back.
                “Hey,” Kageyama said above the clatter and noise.
                Akaashi glanced over his shoulder, hands plunged in water.
                “Why are you here?” he asked. “I’m working.”
                Hinata hopped up onto a stainless-steel counter, pushing aside
a pile of dirty dishes. He picked a fry off a plate, and Kageyama grimaced,
giving him a disgusted look.
                “Saeko’s looking for Suga,” Kageyama informed Akaashi. “Has he
been around?”
                “Fuck,” Akaashi hissed. “He’s in the closet. Like, literally.
He took a nap. I was supposed to wake him up. Over there, Kageyama, can you get
him?”
                Kageyama tugged open the closet door in the corner, light
spilling in. On the floor, a jacket beneath his head, was Suga. His apron was
draped over him like a blanket. Kageyama flicked the dim light on and nudged
the older boy with his foot.
                “Sugawara, your break is over,” he said.
                Instantly, Suga shot up into a sitting position. His eyes were
wide and his hair was mushed. He scrambled to his feet and Kageyama stepped
back.
                “Oh, my god! Oh, my god, oh, my god, how long was I sleeping?
Oh, my god,” Suga glowered, slipping his apron on and stumbling out of the
closet. “Akaashi, you never woke me up!”
                “I forgot,” Akaashi apologized, wincing. “You’re only ten
minutes over.”
                Suga let out a long breath, smoothing his hands down his front.
Kageyama noted that his hands were trembling, and his mouth was set in a thin
line. He didn’t mention how pale Suga looked, and how exhausted he seemed.
                He swept out of the kitchen and Kageyama went back to Hinata
and Akaashi.
                “He looks terrible,” Hinata commented. “He should fucking sleep
for once. Like, just tell his parents to piss off and then sleep.”
                Kageyama picked up a towel and started drying the dishes that
Akaashi had washed. The door pushed open again and Suga returned. His face was
flushed. He returned to the closet he was in and pulled out the cleaning cart.
                “Mio just cleaned the washrooms—“
                “I’ll do it again,” Suga responded. His voice was thin. “They
get dirty fast. I’ll clean them again.”
                Akaashi didn’t say anything else. He returned his focus to the
gross, brown water. Kageyama shared a look with Hinata, but it stayed at that.
Suga would bounce back. He always did, and Kageyama knew this time would be no
different.
***** Brain Stew and Organ Casserole *****
Chapter Summary
     Collection #1... High Enough by K. Flay
Chapter Notes
     - Kozume Kenma
     - Homophobia/Homophobic Language
     - Implied Self Harm
     - Vulgar Language
     - 1687 Words
                                                                   Collection 1
 
“Why’re you still in bed?” Hana sneered, her face twisted in disgust as she
stepped into the room. “You know mom’s not going to believe your bitchy
complaints.”
                Kenma blinked. He was cold.
                “I’m tired,” he answered quietly.
                Hana shook her head, scoffing. “Yeah, so am I. You kept me up
all night with your fucking… Anxiety.Go to your boyfriend’s house or something.
You’re too old to still be living at home, anyways. You’re stressing mom out.
And I’m having friends over, so I don’t want you around.”
                “Kuroo’s not my boyfriend,” Kenma defended, eyebrows pinching.
“We’re just friends.”
                “Faggot,” Hana hissed under her breath, slamming the closet
door closed and leaving their shared bedroom. Kenma pulled the blankets over
his head and tried to steady his breathing, holding back tears.
                Why was he still at home? He hated his house. He hated his
family. He felt like he was constantly suffocating. But he was too scared to
leave. This was all he’d ever known and he was too scared to go out on his own.
His mom was always guiding him. His dad was always there for him. Kenma didn’t
really want to leave. He didn’t want to go into the unknown.
                But he was out of high school. He was supposed to be doing
things with his life. He wasn’t supposed to be at home still. He should be
enrolled in college or university.
                Thinking about it twisted Kenma’s intestines into knots
painfully and mucked around his stomach.
                “Kenma! Come down here!” his mom’s voice called.
                Kenma shivered, ice piercing through his skull.
                He slid out of bed and made his way down the hall to the
stairs. He looked over the wooden banister at his mom in the kitchen. She
looked up at him and said, “Your sister’s having friends over. Stay out of her
room.”
                “Our room,” Kenma quietly corrected.
                “Come down here and get your chores done,” his mom said, her
voice icing over. “I should be making you pay rent for living here still. The
least you could do is pull your weight, for Christ’s sake.”
                Kenma hated his home.
                He slowly climbed down the stairs, anxiety slamming into his
body in waves as he got closer to his mother. One wrong step and he could send
her spiralling into fury. A rope was slithering across the floor, climbing his
body, and tightening around his neck. He hated the fear he got around her. He
wanted it to go away, to let him breathe freely and to not feel caged. One day
she was going to skin him alive, hang his flesh out and then put his innards in
the oven. Make a chandelier from his bones.
                A gnarled hand shot out and grasped his face, making him jump.
                His mom pulled his face down roughly and kissed his forehead.
                “There’s a list of chores on the table for you,” she said.
                Kenma stood frozen until she disappeared. If he did the chores
without a word, he would be safe. He would be okay. He would go to Kuroo’s
until his dad returned from work, then he could return home. His dad understood
him. He dad made sure he always had pills. His dad kept his mom happy.
                Kenma pulled out his phone.
                Kenmacan I come over?
               He looked at the list of chores. There were too many in
comparison to what his sister had to do.
                Kurooyeah everything ok?
                Kenmaanxious.
               Kuroo knew what Kenma’s mom was like. Kuroo was always there
when his dad was not.
                Kuroook but warning: bo’s here
                Kenmaidc just want to leave
               Thinking about his anxiety seemed to be making it worse. The
list of chores in front of his eyes was blurring from the tears that were
pooling. He just had to quickly do the chores and then he could leave. He could
go to Kuroo’s.
                                     * * *
                Kenma could hear the shouting before he’d even reached the
door. The long balcony, four floors above ground level, was covered in dead
leaves. There was a broken deck chair in front of one door, five beer bottles
in front of another door, three apartments down.
                Kenma knocked on the door of Kuroo’s apartment. The wily
shouting from inside stopped instantly.
                “Hey, kitten, come on in,” Kuroo said, sweeping the door open.
“We’re just playing some games. Wanna join?”
                Kenma followed his childhood friend into the messy living room.
Bokuto was in a bean-bag chair, munching on some popcorn. He rose a hand in
greeting. Kenma felt sick and cold. No, he didn’t want to play games. He wanted
to disappear. He wanted to run away and never be found.
                “Everything okay?” Kuroo asked. He flopped down on a bean-bag,
pulling Kenma down with him and hugging him to his chest. Kuroo was warm. He
was always warm. He was safe.
                “Not really,” Kenma responded quietly, curling himself up.
                Bokuto stayed quiet, patiently munching away.
                “Do you want to talk about it?”
                Kenma shook his head. “Just want to forget it.”
                “Fair enough. Press play, Bo,” Kuroo said. Bokuto pressed the
play button and the two continued with what they were playing. Kenma tried to
focus on the game, but his mind was somewhere else. It was in his stomach. He
felt wrong. He felt like he needed to go to the doctor’s. Something inside of
him wasn’t right. Maybe his heart was on the wrong side, or he was missing an
organ.
                Kenma’s chest ached. He didn’t belong anywhere. He longed to
feel wanted somewhere. He wanted to have a place that made him feel safe, where
he didn’t have to worry. Kenma wanted a home.
                Behind him, Kuroo tightened his grip around his waist and
rested his chin on Kenma’s head. Kenma’s breath stuttered and he sniffed,
wiping the tears in his eyes. The two bigger males didn’t pause their game,
they didn’t say anything, but Kenma knew they were aware of his crying. Kuroo’s
body practically wrapped around him protectively, and Bokuto kept his voice
down.
                Kenma knew he was safe here, but this wasn’t his home. This
wasn’t his.
                “You want to stay over?” Kuroo asked.
                Kenma struggled to get out of the bean-bag and out from Kuroo’s
lap. He brushed his hair and then pressed his hands over his ears. “I need to
go to the washroom,” he whispered, avoiding Kuroo’s stare. He made his way
around the dividing wall and entered the first door on the left, locking
himself in.
                He swallowed, turning on the tap and sticking his hands under
the scalding stream. He was so fucking cold. He wanted to light himself on
fire, drink boiling water, do something to warm his bones.
                His hands turned bright red from the steaming water. Kenma was
going to stay over, he usually did. He didn’t feel like a freak with Kuroo. He
could sleep here. He didn’t have to worry about his middle of the night
anxiety. Bokuto always slept like a rock in the other room, and Kuroo was
always patient. He liked snuggling up against Kuroo’s side and resting his head
on his chest.
                But, Kenma wasn’t gay. Neither was Kuroo.
                They were just good friends. It was a platonic relationship.
                Kenma tore the towel off the hook, bunched it up, and screamed
into it, folding in on himself and collapsing to the floor. His screams melded
into sobs and then he slowly laid down on the floor, tears leaking from his
eyes. He could still hear the video game, but he knew that they’d heard him.
                Kenma sat up, crawling forward, and pulling open the cupboard
beneath the sink. Shampoo, conditioner, bath bombs, bubble bath, a bulk set of
about 6 boxes of toothpaste, and toilet paper. No razors.
                He slammed the cupboard shut and reached beneath his shirt,
feeling the old scars lining his stomach. He wasn’t addicted to cutting, but it
wasn’t uncommon for him to impulsively slice his skin when he got like this.
All he wanted was to get rid of the moulding organs inside of him.
                Kenma closed his eyes, wet eyelashes sticking to his skin, and
laid back down on the floor. He was rotting from the inside out.
                                     * * *
                Bokuto went to bed at the ripe time of nine thirty, quieting
the apartment considerably. Around ten thirty, Kenma slid on one of Kuroo’s
sweaters and sweatpants, and then climbed into his bed. Kuroo himself was at
his desk, two textbooks open and paper scattered around him. He tapped on the
keyboard while Kenma played on his PSP, buried beneath the blankets.
                “’ve you got your pills?” Kuroo asked, bouncing a leg.
                “Yes,” Kenma whispered. “Kuro, do you… do you find it annoying?
Me, I mean, always coming here… I’m always in your hair. And Bokuto’s.”
                Kuroo rolled his head to the side and looked at Kenma, his face
illuminated by the light of his game. “I want you to take a stab at what you
think I might say.”
                Kenma sighed and put his game down, fiddling with the blanket
and avoiding Kuroo’s look.
                “I know you’re going to say that no, it’s not annoying and
Bokuto doesn’t think so either. And that if Bokuto ever thinks I’m annoying, he
can hit the road. But I still feel like I’m a bother,” Kenma said. “I’ve always
been too dependent on you. Ever since we were kids.”
                Kuroo closed his laptop and slid into the bed, look at Kenma.
“I’ve been with you this far, so I sure as hell am not going to be leaving you
now. You’re fine, you aren’t a bother. Just go to sleep, kitten. Put today
behind you and think about how tomorrow is a new day. Make tomorrow your bitch.
Carpe diem.”
                “Why are you like this…?” Kenma sighed, rolling over and
pressing himself against Kuroo.
                Kuroo laughed, kissed Kenma’s ear, and then wrapped his lanky
body around Kenma.
                It didn’t take long for either of them to fall asleep.
***** Made of Metal and Fire *****
Chapter Summary
     Collection #1... High Enough by K. Flay
Chapter Notes
     - Sawamura Daichi
     - Vulgar Language
     - Explicit m/m sex
     - Recreational drug use
     - Minor reference to sexual assault
     - 3138 words
                                                                   Collection 1
 
The weights dropped with a shocking clang; so loud Daichi felt it in his teeth.
The few others in the weight room glanced over and he apologized, wiping his
sweaty palms on his shorts. He was breathing heavily and there was moisture
dotting his body. All of his muscles were trembling, overexerted beyond
measure.
                Daichi shakily got off the bench of the machine, going to an
empty treadmill. He started off walking, and just as he was about to pick up
his pace, the door opened and Tanaka entered. Daichi slowed and nodded a
greeting at his friend.
                “You should probably quit for the day, man,” Tanaka said.
“You’ve been in here for two and a half hours. And you look like you’re going
to drop right here. The treadmill’s going to whip your body at the wall and
nobody wants that.”
                Daichi wiped the wetness on his neck. His throat felt tight and
full of fuzz. “I’m just going to wrap it up with a twenty-minute run, then I’ll
be done. You don’t need me right away, do you? There’s not emergency or
anything?”
                “No, you’ve just been in here for a long time. I was worried
you’d dropped some weights on your head or something. Do your run and then come
down to the commons; Ennoshita wanted to go grab something to eat,” Tanaka
explained. He reached over and pressed a button on the treadmill, and within a
few seconds, Daichi was in a full sprint. He swore at Tanaka as he laughed and
left the workout room.
                                     * * *
                Forty-five minutes later, Daichi had showered, put clean
clothes on, and was still shaking from exertion. He almost felt feverish and
Ennoshita pointed it out when he approached him and Tanaka. Yamamoto was there
as well, off chatting up some girl.
                “Where are were going?” Daichi asked, running a hand through
his still damp hair. His skin was hot.
                “Thought we’d grab an uber and head to Sea Front,” Tanaka said.
Yamamoto was walking back over, smiling triumphantly. “After that we were going
to head back to Noya’s.”
                Daichi yawned and said, “I’ll meet you at Noya’s. I promised
Suga I’d pick him up from work today, but I don’t know if he’ll be down to get
even the slightest bit fucked.”
                “Come on, bring him,” Tanaka said. “He needs it more than any
of us. We’ll loosen him up and then you can take Cinderella back home. By
tomorrow, he’ll be glad he got fucked tonight. By the drugs and you, hey, hey?”
                Daichi gave him a disgusted look and shook his head. They
walked down the sidewalk leisurely, the sun breaking from the clouds, but the
wind still gusting. A few blocks down, they met with an uber and hopped in. The
vehicle smelled of pine—and there were about fifty car fresheners hanging from
the rear-view mirror. Yamamoto and Tanaka sat in the very back, and Daichi and
Ennoshita were in the bucket seats. Yamamoto was playing bass-heavy music
through the aux cord.
                Daichi pulled out his phone, looking at the notifications on
his lock screen.
                Twitternobiku_fitness – make sure to sign up for our monthly
subsc…
                Suga(4 unread messages)
                ReminderBuy milk and bread
                ReminderEssay due (midnight)
               He opened the messages from Suga, muting out the thumping of
music. Suga’s messages were spread out from 3am that morning until thirty
minutes ago.
                Sugaits late I know but I really can’t sleep. where did you go?
(3:05am)
                Sugaleft for work. theres breakfast in the fridge for you. idk
where
                you are but don’t forget you have class at 1030 (8:42am)
                Sugadone work at 6 could you pick me up then please? (1:15pm)
                Sugaare you ok? you haven’t responded to any of my texts and
                I haven’t seen you since yesterday at lunch (4:51pm)
                Daichi tapped out a short message in response.
                Daichi im fine. will be there at 6. wanna come to noyas
afterwards?
                He paused.
               Daichi did you sleep at all? im sorry I wasn’t there
                He slid his phone away and looked out the window at the passing
buildings—all of them were rotting and damaged from the salty moisture in the
air. There was a group of seagulls picking and pulling at a garbage bag that
was sitting in front of one of the towns newspaper companies. The driver honked
the horn at them as they passed by and the bird disbanded in a swirl of
feathers and squawks.
                “Are you guys going to be needing a pick up as well?” the
driver asked as the four of them got out of the vehicle, the wind coming off
the water tearing at their clothes. Ennoshita leaned in the guy’s window and
told him, that no, they would be alright.
                Noya’s house was just a few blocks away. The walk wouldn’t be
far. Daichi lifted a hand as the driver pulled away and then the four of them
entered the diner. It was a little early for dinner, but there was a good
handful of people already seated at a few of the tacky fish shaped tables.
                BzzBzzzBzz.
                Suga sleep is for the weak
                Daichi, Ennoshita, Tanaka, and Yamamoto seated themselves at a
table in the back corner, slinging their jackets over the backs of the chairs
and picking up the menus. Tanaka leaned over and showed Ennoshita a raunchy
photo of some girl on his phone, whistling and laughing. Daichi slapped his own
phone on his lap under the table, pretending to be interested in the meals
listed under the dinner menu.
                “Hey, can you guys order me a beer to start? I’m going to the
washroom quick,” Daichi said, screeching his chair back and starting in the
direction of the overhanging sign stating WASHROOMS.
                He pushed into the single person bathroom, locking the door
behind him and shivering, unlocking his phone again.
                Daichiwhats your schedule for the rest of the week?
               Daichi rubbed his face, whispering out a curse. He slid his
phone into his pocket and fumbled for the tap, running the cold water, before
cupping his hands and splashing his face. He would give anythingto have a joint
or something right now.
                                     * * *
                “Hey…” Daichi said softly, pulling Suga towards him and kissing
him. “How was work?”
                “Average. Hinata and Kageyama dropped by.” Suga tossed his
stuff in the back of the uber, climbing in before Daichi. “How about you?
Anything exciting?”
                Daichi studied his boyfriend’s soft features. “I went out for
dinner with Ennoshita, Tanaka, and Yamamoto, but that’s it.” Suga was on his
phone, inserting things into his reminders and checking things off. His skin
looked grey. “Have you eaten recently?” Daichi asked.
                “Yeah, I had an apple during my break a few hours ago.” Suga
flapped a hand. “Don’t worry about eating dinner without me. I’ll scavenge
something up at home. Although… There’s been one thing I’ve been craving pretty
much all day…” Suga put his phone down and slid a hand over Daichi’s thigh,
gripping his crotch. He smirked and teased Daichi through the fabric of his
pants.
                Daichi cleared his throat and pushed Suga’s hand off, linking
their fingers together instead. “Are you- are you going to come to Noya’s?”
                Suga sighed and looked out his window. “I don’t know. I’ve got
a lot of things I need to do. And I need to go grocery shopping and clean the
place up. I’ve got a reading assignment to do and that online course I’m taking
as well. Maybe next time.”
                “You always have a lot of things to do,” Daichi said. “Just
ignore it for a night. You’re stressed out.”
                “I’m chronically stressed out,” Suga responded, tilting his
head.
                “Please?”
                Daichi’s phone buzzed again. The pattern meant it was from
Kuroo. Suga was still looking out the window. Daichi used his free hand to
wiggle his phone out and opened the message. Just asking if he was going to the
party. Daichi tapped back a short ‘yes’ and had just sent it when Suga’s hand
gripped his crotch again.
                “Suga—“
                He bit back a groan when Suga’s cold and slender fingers slid
into his pants and underwear. He glanced up at the drivers face in the rear
view mirror quickly, but the man was focused on the road.
                Suga’s hand wrapped around Daichi’s flaccid (but already
tingling) cock. Daichi closed his eyes softly and licked his lips, tensing his
thighs. From where they were, their apartment was still another three blocks
away. If Suga continued what he was doing, Daichi would have a pretty hard time
keeping quiet.
                “I want to use toys tonight…” Suga breathed, lips brushing
Daichi’s ear and causing him to shiver. “I want wear one at the party…”
                Daichi swallowed, clearing his throat to hide a moan as his
dick began to harden in Suga’s hand. Suga had an array of sex toys at home and
Daichi loved when they used them. Suga had no shame when it came to hiding
something beneath his clothes, whether it be a vibrator or raunchy underwear.
                By the time they pulled up to their apartment building, Daichi
had a total hard-on. Suga thanked the man for the drive while Daichi grabbed
Suga’s bag to cover his boner as they made their way to their apartment.
                The minute the door closed behind them, Daichi pulled off his
shirt and pushed Suga against the wall, kissing him feverishly. It wasn’t long
before Suga was naked and on the kitchen floor, with Daichi—pants pulled down
below his butt—pounding in and out of him.
                                     * * *
                The walls of the house were vibrating and every room was smoky.
Suga was attached to Daichi, one hand slid down the side of his pants, cupping
one of his ass cheeks. From where they were, by the door, Daichi could see a
muscular guy with buzzed black hair pinning Akaashi to the wall, a hand down
his pants.
                Akaashi was flushed and struggling weakly, protesting.
                No one paid much attention.
                Daichi untangled from Suga, grabbing the guy’s bicep and
pulling him back roughly. “Hey, man, he doesn’t want it, okay? He’s got a
boyfriend.”
                Akaashi wiped his mouth, still against the wall, and the burly
guy left, swiping a hand down and squeezing Akaashi’s crotch and said “I’ll be
seeing you later” before sweeping away. Daichi clenched his jaw, watching him
go.
                “Where is Bokuto anyways?” Suga asked.
                “I have no idea,” Akaashi answered. He straightened his
clothes. “He went to get another drink and must have gotten distracted. I was
just about to go find him.” He paused and looked at Daichi. “Thanks; for
getting rid of him.”
                Daichi sniffed. “Yeah, well, he was being an ass and no one
else really seemed to care.”
                “Don’t tell Bokuto,” Akaashi pleaded, raising his voice above
the music as it changed to something with nerve jarring bass. “He’ll want to
start something.”
                Daichi shrugged, silently agreeing. He knew Bokuto well enough
to understand why Akaashi wouldn’t want to tell him. Although Daichi himself
was a little bit tempted to punch the guy. Yeah, Akaashi was attractive, quiet,
and soft spoken—no wonder everyone wanted to get off on him. But Akaashi was
easily manipulated and if Bokuto wasn’t there to defend him… So Daichi kind of
wanted to punch the guy for taking advantage of Akaashi.
                “Daichi! Suga! Hey~!” Tanaka shouted drunkenly. He lifted a red
cup in cheers of their appearance. “The guys’ve got some shit in the kitchen if
you wanna get high. And, uhhhh, I’m supposed to tell you—specifically Suga—that
there are also condoms in the kitchen.”
                Suga grabbed Akaashi’s hand and trailed off into the throng of
bodies. Daichi watched the back of his head until he was out of sight. He felt
numb to the knowledge of knowing that Suga would likely be having sex with more
than one person aside from him that night. Boys and girls alike. Threesome.
Maybe foursome.
                “Let’s go to the kitchen. That’s where most people are,” Tanaka
said, slinging his arm around Daichi’s shoulders. “Kuroo, Bokuto, Oikawa, the
lot of them. Bokuto bought some pills he got from some guy and holy shit.
You’ve gotta try ‘em.”
                “Yeah, alright,” Daichi laughed. He took Tanaka’s cup and
finished off the drink. “But I’ve got to keep an eye on how much Suga drinks.
He tends to lose count.”
                Last time, Suga had been hospitalized for alcohol poisoning. He
wasn’t exactly a regular drinker, but when there were copious amounts of
alcohol, he really went for it. The only person not hammered out of the fucking
universe was Kenma, who had called the ambulance when Suga passed out and began
turning blue. Since then, Daichi vowed to keep track of how much Suga was
drinking, because Suga himself didn’t seem to care.
                A deep roar of cheers erupted from the kitchen, and Daichi and
Tanaka came around the corner just in time to see Kuroo slam a drink down on
the counter. There were a few lines of coke on the countertop as well. Bokuto
was holding a blunt, one arm around Akaashi’s waist. Yaku—seated on the counter
with Lev between his legs—was taking a hit from a bong. Oikawa and Hanamaki
were snorting the separate lines of coke, almost racing.
                Suga was already on the alcohol. He was sitting on the
countertop with a beer bottle in one hand. Daichi entered the kitchen just in
time to see him toss a pill down his throat and wash it out with the beer.
                Daichi approached him and slid a hand up his thigh. “What was
that?”
                “No idea,” Suga said shortly, taking another swig of beer. He
caught Daichi’s look. “I already called in sick to work tomorrow. I want to be
on another fucking planet by the time tonight is over.”
                The lights in the kitchen seemed to flicker as the music
rattled the walls. It was so loud that Daichi wouldn’t be surprised if a
neighbour filed a noise complaint. He took the beer out of Suga’s hand and
finished it off.
                When he placed it on the counter, he leaned into Suga and
mumbled, “I want to be the first to loosen you up before you go fuck everyone
else in this place.”
                “Oh, Daichi! It would be my pleasure!” Suga cried, wrapping his
arms and legs around Daichi.
                Daichi pulled him off of the counter and heard Kuroo shout,
“Keep it safe, kiddos!” after them.
                                     * * *
                Suga was splayed on the bed, naked. Daichi was positioned
between his spread legs, hands stroking the back of his thighs. Spreading
Suga’s ass cheeks was a baby blue, diamond butt plug. Daichi used two fingers
and pushed the diamond, eliciting a whine from Suga.
                “You’re still slick,” Daichi mumbled, spreading around the
mixture of lube and natural lubricant that was glistening on Suga’s rear. He
hooked his fingers around the base of the plug and tugged lightly, puckering
Suga’s ass.
                Suga moaned and arched his back. Once the widest part of the
butt plug was past, Suga’s rear contracted and the rest of the toy was pushed
out. Following it was a string of fluid. Daichi bit his lip and then slid the
plug back in.
                “Lemme suck you off,” Suga moaned, stroking himself, one hand
sneaking down to his ass. It brushed Daichi’s own hand that was already there.
                Daichi silently stood up and slid down his pants and underwear
in one swift motion, his cock springing out. Suga tugged himself, pinching a
nipple. Already he was flushed, eyes heavy with a mix of lust and the unknown
drug.
                And then Suga sprung forward and he grabbed Daichi, throwing
him down onto the bed. Suga wasted no time spreading Daichi’s knees and
lowering his mouth to his cock. The second Daichi felt Suga’s familiar mouth
pop over the head, he dropped his head back and closed his eyes. Suga was an
expert at giving blowjobs, and he almost always swallowed.
                It drove Daichi crazy.
                “Ah, fuck,” Daichi breathed as Suga sucked his cheeks in. He
gripped his balls.
                Suga dropped his head until Daichi’s dick struck the back of
his throat, pulling moans from both. Daichi grasped Suga’s hair, tugging the
silver locks. Suga’s nails dug deep into the back of Daichi’s thighs. His head
bobbed, his tongue swirled, his throat vibrated, and Daichi was almost
trembling from holding himself back from thrusting hard into Suga’s mouth.
                “Mmf, mmm,” Suga moaned, tapping Daichi’s hand entwined in his
hair.
                Daichi glanced down and quickly loosened his grip. Suga popped
up, gasping, and scowled. “Are you trying to suffocate me?”
                “Sorry,” Daichi replied. He removed his hands. “You’re in
control. Got it. Please, do continue.”
                Suga stretched an arm out, linking his fingers with Daichi’s,
before going down on him again. Instead of pulling Suga’s hair, Daichi grabbed
the bedsheet below them. He could feel a mixture of Suga’s saliva and his own
pre-cum dribbling down his cock and around his balls. When he looked down, he
nearly came right then and there as he watched Suga’s stretched, slick lips
slide smoothly up and down his shaft.
                And then Suga pulled off again, breathing heavily. His lips
were dark and wet, glistening. Daichi watched as he reached behind him and
slowly removed the butt plug, dropping it off to the side. Then he crawled over
Daichi and lined himself up with his cock, lowering himself down. Daichi was
thicker than the widest part of the butt plug and he couldn’t hold back the
groan as he felt himself stretch his boyfriend.
                Daichi rested his hands on Suga’s thighs as he began to move up
and down. Daichi could feel the knot in his stomach growing already as Suga
sped up, his cheeks flushed. The smell of vanilla was emanating off of Suga.
Vanilla and sex.
                Suga moaned, grinding his ass down as the tip of Daichi’s cock
prodded his prostate. His arms were trembling.
                Daichi pulled Suga off of him and pressed his chest into the
bed. Instinctively, Suga rose his ass in the air. It was slick. It was
stretched. Daichi slid two fingers inside and leaned over, biting Suga’s
shoulder.
                “God, you smell so good,” Daichi breathed. He added a third
finger. “What is that?”
                “Vanilla body spray,” Suga responded. He reached between his
legs and wrapped his hand around his cock, whimpering. “Fuck, Dai, put it in
already.”
                And Daichi rammed himself into Suga’s ass. From there, it
escalated without hesitation and within moments, Daichi was pounding into Suga
mercilessly. He got to start Suga’s sex-frenzied rampage off with a bang.
***** Ugly Inside and Out *****
Chapter Summary
     Collection #1... High Enough by K. Flay
Chapter Notes
     - Akaashi Keiji
     - Implied/Referenced Eating Disorder
     - Recreational Drug Use
     - Referenced Child Sexual Assault/Pedophilia
     - Rape/Non-Con
     - Vulgar Language
     - 2460 Words
                                                                   Collection 1
 
The bathroom smelled of vomit and piss—both of which weren’t completely in the
toilet bowl. Akaashi kicked down the lid and plunked himself on top, staring
blankly at the mint green wall in front of him. The floor beneath his feet was
throbbing from the music and the bathroom made him feel like he was in a padded
room. One of the lights was out and the glass was shattered in the sink, making
it dim.
                If Akaashi screamed right now, nobody would hear him. And if
someone did, they wouldn’t care. Everyone here was too stoned, too drunk, too
busy fucking or being fucked to care. Bokuto included.
                Akaashi opened his mouth, opened his throat, and considered
screaming, before snapping it shut again. He got off the toilet lid and flipped
it up, looking at the water. There was a nub of a cigarette floating in it.
Akaashi flushed.
                And then he assumed the position. He dropped to his knees and
shoved two fingers to the back of his throat, scratching. He gagged. Wretched.
Dug harder. His stomach rolled and convulsed. He dug HARDER. Vomited. It felt
like fire rushing up his esophagus, scorching his lungs and heart on the way.
                The concoction of different drinks he’d consumed came up, along
with brown muck from the weed brownies. He hoped the pill he’d taken from
Bokuto would leave as well, but it was too late to reverse the nauseating
effects of that one. It felt like there were razors tearing at his stomach. His
extremities felt numb. His nose and tongue tingled.
                Akaashi couldn’t quite remember what drugs he’d taken, but the
combination of everything he’d thrown down his throat was making his entire
body buzz. His brain felt like it was swelling and about to squeeze out his
eyes and ears.
                Akaashi flushed the toilet a second time. He picked up a bottle
of jack from the floor and swished it around in his mouth before spitting it
out in the sink. He pulled at his face with stiff, numb fingers and cursed what
he saw.
                Before he was tempted to do something harmful, Akaashi left the
bathroom and went in search of a quiet room that wasn’t occupied by frenzied
mating animals. The first room he passed by (door wide open) he saw Suga
bouncing up and down on Semi Eita’s dick, his hands pressed to Semi’s abdomen.
                The hallway tilted under Akaashi’s feet and his vision doubled.
It didn’t feel like he was walking. He felt like he was floating, gliding. All
he was, was a head. He wondered where Bokuto was. It was late and Akaashi felt
suddenly very overwhelmed by everything.
It felt like there was water in his left ear.
                Next room, he slid into without checking if there was anyone
there. He closed his eyes and swayed. He didn’t even hear the click of the door
behind him. The room was light, giving him an instant migraine despite the fact
that his eyes were shut.
                When he opened them, he saw three brute guys sitting, staring
at him. They were out of focus and Akaashi opened his mouth, tongue feeling
like cotton.
                “I’m sorry…” he slurred. “I was just… I just needed somewhere
quiet. Can I- Can I sit here for a bit?”
                Akaashi rose his hands to his face. His cheeks felt like they
were on fire. He couldn’t imagine how flushed he probably was.
                “Hey, yeah, no, take a seat. Lay down or something. You look
like you’re going to drop dead,” one of the guys said, shifting over on the bed
and patting the pillow next to him. Akaashi stumbled to the bed and fell onto
it, curling up as his head spun erratically.
                The only thing he could hear was the muffled bass from the
music. The three guys were saying something, but Akaashi couldn’t make sense of
the words. He wanted to fall asleep. The bed was soft, like a pile of clouds.
Except clouds would be cold. This was warm. He felt like he was in the middle
of a cotton field on a warm spring day.
                The lights flicked off and Akaashi’s screaming mind settled
slightly. “Thank you…” he mumbled, sighing.
                “Oh, no, thank you, Keiji,” one of the guys said lowly. The bed
dipped and then suddenly there were hands on Akaashi’s body.
                His eyes flew open and he went to grab the guy’s wrist, but his
hand-eye coordination was off and he missed. It felt like he was glued to the
bed. He couldn’t move. Akaashi tried to push against the guy and his hands that
were pulling his shirt up. Another one was pulling his pants down.
                “Get… Get o- off of me,” Akaashi fumbled. Shit he was so tired.
“I have a boyfriend… I have a boyfriend.”
                “Yeah, Bokuto’s off fucking some chick in the pool last I
checked,” one of the guys said, wrangling Akaashi’s t-shirt over his head. “I
promise; we’ll make him so jealous he won’t fuck anyone else ever again.”
                Akaashi squirmed. His actions felt blurred, too fast, as if
someone had him in fast-forward, but everyone else was going in real time. He
knew that Bokuto was fucking some girl in the pool. He told Bokuto it was okay.
They didn’t need to make him jealous.
               Akaashi was naked. EXPOSED. They could see all the lumps and
stretch marks on his body. They could see his too dark nipples and too small
penis. They could see everythingthat was wrong with him.
                “Hey, guys… I don’t really think he wants you to do this,” the
third guy said, off to the side somewhere. When Akaashi turned his head to
look, it felt like his face was melting off. He still couldn’t see right. It
was dark. Everything was moving—inanimate objects and all.
                The guy above Akaashi looked down, hands gripping his hips too
tightly. “Do you not want us to do this? Do you not want to be fucked?”
                Akaashi shook his head. His tongue was gone. He hoped he was
shaking his head.
                “See, he said no,” the third guy said sympathetically. “No
means no, and all that shit. Leave him alone. Whatever he took, it’s got him
fucked enough.”
                The guy above him laughed. “He said no to not wanting to be
fucked. If I’d asked if he wantedto, then his no would be valid. But
technically, he was disproving my question. Just get the fuck out, alright
Nagi?”
                Akaashi couldn’t breathe. He didn’t want the third guy to
leave. He wanted Bokuto to come up. He wanted the hands off of him.
                “Hnnggh,” Akaashi moaned weakly when he felt a cold and slick
finger slide between his ass cheeks. He couldn’t form words. He couldn’t even
call out for someone, or scream, or anything. All he could do was moan and
groan—and the two guys took that as pleasure.
                Akaashi was trying to protest against the lubed hand slicking
up his ass, the second hand working on getting him hard, and the other two
hands of the other guy pinning his hands off to the side while he licked,
sucked, and bit at Akaashi’s chest and nipples.
                “I wanna double team him,” the lead guy mumbled to the second.
“Start stretching him out. I don’t want there to be blood.”
                “I wanted him to suck me off,” the second guy responded.
                “He’s not responsive enough for that. Just take what you can
get or leave him to me.”
                A finger pressed into Akaashi and he let out a high moan, more
of a whimper. Fingers pinched his nipples. Akaashi felt like he was strung
upside by his toes. The finger wasn’t alone for long before another one joined,
and then a third, stroking and stretching. Violating. Feeling his disgusting
insides.
                “I don’t…” Akaashi slurred, squirming. The fingers inside of
him pulled out but were quickly replaced by something that could only be the
second guy’s cock. “Get out… Get out of me…” Tears burned Akaashi’s eyes and he
was tugged back into memories that he’d locked up ages ago. The lock snapped
off just as the first guy’s fingers shoved into his mouth.
                Akaashi was back at his old house, back in his old town, living
with his step father, mom, and grandma.
                He’d always been pretty. Obedient. Quiet. He got it from his
mom.
                “Aah, fuck,” the guy moaned, slowly sliding in and out of
Akaashi. “He feels as good as he looks. Smooth and tight.”
                That’s what his step-dad told him whenever he pulled Akaashi
into the master bedroom, locking the door. Smooth and tight—better that your
mom’s pussy.Seven-year-old Akaashi didn’t know how to stop what his step-dad
was doing. He didn’t want to tell his mom, because for the first time ever, she
was happy with her marriage.
                And his mom never saw her husband subtly grabbing Akaashi’s
bottom, or sliding a hand down his shirt behind her back. She never realized
that her husband would take her only child into their bedroom and touch and
fuck him when she wasn’t there. Grandma was too old to hear the sounds, too old
to go up the stairs and see what was happening.
                “…ss the lube… don’t come… side… pull out…”
                Akaashi was fading in and out of consciousness.
                For years, Akaashi’s step-father touched him and used him as a
sex toy—an inanimate sex object. Fingered him, fucked him, forced him to suck
his dick, stuck objects into him. And then, when Akaashi was fourteen, his mom
came home early from work and caught her husband mid-orgasm, his cock buried
deep inside her son.
                “…ull him on… so I… get inside…”
                She had screamed and hit her husband. That night, Akaashi’s
step father was arrested, his grandma was put into a home, and him and his mom
got in their car and drove six hours to his aunt’s house for refuge. They lived
there for years. His mom was still living there, wondering where she went wrong
with two failed marriages and how she hadn’t seen her husband raping her son.
                “Nngh, aa-ahh,” the two guys grunted as the first one pushed in
alongside his friend.
                Akaashi was limp. He was too drunk, too high, too whatever to
feel the stretch, and burn, and sting of the two cocks pounding in and out of
him. He was stuck in his fuzzy head, scrambling to pick up the pieces of the
locked box that had exploded open, bringing everything to the forefront again.
                “…’s hard... You like it, Keiji?... leaking everywhere… can
cum…”
                Akaashi closed his eyes. Was he enjoying it? He didn’t think
so, but his own penis was erect and he could feel the fluid leaking from his
rear, self lubricating. He felt heat explode inside of him, and the one on top
pulled out and ejaculated over Akaashi’s chest.
                “I thought I told you to pull out?” the first guy wheezed.
                “Got a little carried away,” the guy beneath Akaashi said,
laughing. His now limp cock was still inside of Akaashi. Cum was dribbling down
his legs.
                “Carried away my ass. Come on, pull out and let’s go. Just
leave him here. Bokuto will find him eventually. Or somebody, anyways.”
                The cock pulled out and Akaashi was laid down on the bed,
covered in cum and naked. The two guys left the room and within seconds,
Akaashi drifted into unconsciousness.
                                     * * *
                “Akaashi…? Hey, hey, come on, wake up. Akaashi… Keiji, what the
hell happened?”
                Someone was shaking him, one hand on the side of his face.
Akaashi shivered violently, not wanting to wake up.
                “Oikawa, go get Bokuto. He’s down in the hot tub.” The person
draped something over Akaashi, as if he was a dead body at a crime scene.
                Akaashi’s eyes shot open and it took him a few seconds to focus
on Iwaizumi, standing above him. His hand pulled off of his face and grabbed a
cloth from a bucket, squeezing water from it.
                Iwaizumi began wiping sticky cum from Akaashi’s face and neck.
“What happened? I don’t believe that you came up here to have some raunchy sex
and didn’t clean yourself up afterwards. Who did this to you?”
                Akaashi felt vomit rush up his throat and he didn’t have time
to lean over the bed even before it came out.
                “I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely to Iwaizumi, who had jumped
out of the way. His body felt like it had been run over by a semi, followed by
a stampede of horses.
                “Akaashi!” Bokuto’s voice called from the stairwell. Ten
seconds later, he burst into the room and pushed Iwaizumi out of the way. “Who
did this to you? I’m going to fucking kill them. Sit up, sit up before you
choke on your barf. Are you bleeding? I’m going to rip their fucking head off!
Let me clean you up.”
                Akaashi swayed as Bokuto helped him into a sitting position.
Iwaizumi handed Bokuto the towel and Oikawa handed Akaashi a glass of water.
Akaashi could hear Suga’s drunken laugh from all the way downstairs. Why could
Suga so easily have sex with anybody and still laugh like that? The rare times
Akaashi and Bokuto did it together, Akaashi had to recollect himself for weeks
before he was even mildly okay with going all the way again.
                Bokuto finished wiping down Akaashi’s chest and then slid his
shirt back over his head, and then took off the flannel he had on over his own
t-shirt, and draped it around Akaashi’s shoulders. Oikawa and Iwaizumi left the
room, closing the door quietly on the way out.
                Bokuto handed the cloth to Akaashi and softly said, “Here, wipe
your bottom half off and I’ll look for some sweatpants or something.”
                “Why?” Akaashi croaked, dazed.
                Bokuto frowned. “There’s cum on the pants you were wearing.” He
paused. “Did you see who did this?”
                Akaashi wiped his legs and unsteadily got off the bed, choking
back a whimper as he gently cleaned his back end of the dried cum. He watched
Bokuto shift through the closet and tear down a pair of black sweats.
                “There was two of them…” Akaashi said quietly. He let Bokuto
help him into the sweatpants. “I couldn’t see them. They… They fucked me at the
same time, Bokuto. One of them was named Nagi, but he left.”
                “Nagi?” Bokuto clenched his jaw and put his hands on Akaashi’s
face, looking him in the eye. “You stay right here. I’ll be right back, and
then we’re going home. You’re coming home with me tonight. I’ll be right back.”
                “Bo, don’t—“
                The door slammed shut.
***** The World Won't Stop *****
Chapter Summary
     Collection #1... High Enough by K. Flay
Chapter Notes
     - Sugawara Koushi
     - Recreational Drug Use
     - Mentions Rape
     - Use of Sex Toys
     - Vulgar Language
     - 2141 Words
 
                                                                   Collection 1
 
Bokuto came thundering down the stairs, stumbling on the last few steps. Suga,
seated on Daichi’s lap, blinked a few times and tilted his head. Everything had
an orange hue, Bokuto included.
                Bokuto was on fire.
                “Where the fuck is Jae and Seung? Where are they?” Bokuto
demanded.
                Suga looked back at Daichi. Both of them recognized Seung’s
name—as he was the one that they had found forcing himself onto Akaashi when
they first got to the party.
                “Look, man,” Daichi spoke up. “Akaashi doesn’t want you to
start anything. Seung was just drunk, or whatever. He didn’t cause any harm.”
                “Didn’t cause any harm? They fucking raped him! Oikawa and
Iwaizumi found him fucking passed out with jizz all over himself!” Bokuto was
shouting. Waves of anger were rolling off of him and everyone knew what Bokuto
could get like when he got angry.
                “What do you mean they raped him?” Suga asked, frowning. He was
too drunk to fully process the severity of the situation. “Are you sure Akaashi
didn’t just decide to have some fun? I mean, you were fucking some girl in the
hot tub not long ago.”
                “Suga, don’t be fucking ignorant,” Bokuto snapped. “You know
Akaashi isn’t a whore like you. Fucking isn’t exactly his idea of a fun time
and you know that. Someone tell me where Jae and Seung are!”
                Suga sighed and got off of Daichi’s lap, head spinning. The
butt plug inside of him moved with his movement and it made his stomach flip
with pleasure. “I hate to break it to you, babe, but they left. Which is
probably better. You need to cool down before you get yourself arrested again.”
                Then, before Suga could react, Bokuto seemed to rush forward
with inhuman speed, and then his fist came up and crashed into his face. Suga
felt his body drop like a sack of potatoes and the pain just rang dully in his
head, suppressed by the shit he’d taken throughout the night. He couldn’t hear
it all that well, but Daichi was yelling—suddenly standing over him.
                Suga felt his cheek. His head was throbbing like it was going
to explode.
                “Suga? Suga? Are you okay?”
                He turned his face to Ennoshita and Goshiki. Above them,
everyone that had been in the room was shouting—Daichi, Kuroo, Iwaizumi,
Oikawa, Tanaka, Ushijima, and Terushima. Suga clutched his head and curled into
himself, trying to ease the pressure inside is skull.
                “Bokuto! Bokuto! Koutaro!”
                Akaashi’s voice joined the shouting and Suga saw him stumble
down the stairs. Akaashi’s eyes locked onto Suga’s, and the black-haired boy
had a look of utter horror on his face.
                Suga pushed himself to his feet and just as he straightened,
blood began streaming from his nose. Daichi was trying to break out of
Ushijima’s and Iwaizumi’s hold, screaming obscenities at Bokuto—who was being
held back by Kuroo.
                “Koushi, oh my god, I’m so sorry,” Akaashi said, pushing
through to Suga. The hands covering his mouth were shaking.
                “Not your fault,” Suga said, tongue feeling thick. “Come on,
we’ll let the men handle things in here. Let’s go out to the porch.”
                “You need tissue,” Akaashi whispered, letting Suga drag him out
of the living room.
                “Yeah, but there’s a lot of things I need,” Suga responded,
opening the front door, and stepping onto the porch. The wind was chilly. He
sat down on the porch swing, rotting and damp from the sea. “Bokuto said the
twins… He said the twins raped you. Is that true?”
                Akaashi stared down at Suga.
                “Keiji,” Suga said quietly. “Shit, you need to talk to someone
about that. Like, the police, you know?”
                “They won’t take my side, you know that,” Akaashi said. “I’m a
gay male. And I was- I am high; drunk; pissed off my face; whatever you want to
say. They’re not going to take my side.”
                “Yeah,” Suga muttered. He wiped his nose, feeling sick all of
the sudden. Bokuto hadn’t even hithis nose, instead very much shattering Suga’s
ear. In front of him, Akaashi took a large, shaking breath, and turned around,
looking down at the beach.
                Suga rocked his ass, feeling the plug slide around with the cum
that was still coating and inside his rear.  Then he got up and went to stand
beside his friend. A few feet away from the water was Asahi and Nishinoya,
laying with their backs on the sand, staring at the night sky.
                “Surprised Asahi let Noya hold a party,” Suga commented.
                “They’ll probably want to burn their bed now,” Akaashi
whispered. He pushed his hair back with his trembling hands, leaning against
the porch banister. “How do you do it? You’re always so happy… and you just…
You have no shame. You can have fun.”
                The shouting inside had ceased. Any minute Daichi would come
barrelling out, looking for Suga.
                “Yeah, but my idea of fun isn’t your idea of fun,” Suga
shrugged. “Your idea of fun is sitting in a blanket with some snacks and binge
watching a TV show. Sex isn’t you forte. Whatever, that’s fine. I have enough
sex for the both of us anyways.” He paused and heard Akaashi sniffle. “I’m
sorry about tonight,” Suga whispered. “But you can’t blame yourself for it. For
anyof it. Your dad and those pricks tonight. None of it is your fault.”
                Akaashi straightened, keeping his head bowed as he wiped his
eyes. “I—“
                “Koushi!”
                The screen door banged open and Daichi stepped out of the house
heavily, shaking the wood planks of the porch. He gave Akaashi’s cheek a quick
kiss before grabbing Suga’s head in his hands and saying, “You’re bleeding
everywhere. Son of a bitch… God, are you okay? Can you see alright? What’s the
date? What’s your cell number?”
                Suga smiled and felt his nose. It was no longer bleeding, but
he had dried blood all over his face and shirt.
                “Dai, I’m fine. Just rattled my head a little bit, nothing to
worry about. I think it’s time we went home though.” Suga looked at Akaashi.
“Did you want to catch a ride with us? We can take you home—unless you’re going
with Bokuto.”
                Akaashi provided a miniscule smile. “I’ll go with Bokuto.
Thanks, though.”
                Suga gave Akaashi a big hug before Daichi and him made their
way back to the main roads, hailing down a cab. When they got back to their
apartment, Daichi immediately got into bed while Suga stripped down his
clothes, removed the butt plug, and hopped in the shower to clean off the sex
and blood that was covering him.
                Already, the events of the night were slipping from his mind as
he shampooed his hair, going through his mental list of things he needed to do.
His parents’ voices were echoing in his head.
                You aren’t challenging yourself enough, Koushi. You’re putting
your brain to waste.
               He had to finish an assignment for his forensics professor. He
was falling behind in his online courses.
                You’ll never be able to support yourself or a family without a
job.
               He still had two six hour shifts left that week. He was going to
regret cancelling tomorrow’s shift. He had to pay his half of the rent by the
end of the month, and he was just holding onto one hundred dollars in his bank
account.
                Clean the house before we come home. No one likes returning to
a pig sty. This mess is the reason you’re so depressed all the time.
               He hadn’t cleaned the apartment for three days. Daichi was going
to be disgusted. He was just too exhausted to clean, but it had to be done.
                You can’t eat that processed food all the time. You’re going to
have a heart attack by the time you’re twenty. It’s the reason you’re breaking
out so badly.
               His diet was slipping. He needed to go grocery shopping again.
                Get off your lazy ass and do something other than sleeping all
day.
               Suga decided he would clean the apartment and work on his
courses rather than sleep. He hadn’t slept the night before either—and when
Daichi wasn’t there to help him fall asleep, he masturbated instead.
                “Kou, come to bed!” Daichi’s voice called.
                Suga shut off the water and stepped out of the shower, drying
himself off with a towel. The butt plug was sitting in the sink, submerged in
hot water. After he’d brushed his teeth, Suga took it out, dried it off, and
tossed it into the bucket under the sink—containing many other sex toys.
                In the bedroom, Daichi was underneath the blankets already,
heavy eyed as he watched Suga enter.
                “Mm… C’mere,” Daichi mumbled, flipping up the covers.
                “I’m going to clean the house, babe,” Suga whispered. He kissed
Daichi softly and then turned around to pull on some underwear and a pair of
sweats.
                Daichi made a noise of irritation. “Suga, you haven’t slept
for, what? Two days? Come to bed. You look horrible.”
                “Well, I feel radiant, thank you for that encouraging
compliment. And anyways, the house needs to be cleaned. It’s a pig sty.” His
mother’s deprecating voice buzzed in his head like a radio with bad signal. He
looked at Daichi. “You know how I get when the house is messy. I’ll just tidy
it quickly.”
                Daichi shook his head. “You have tomorrow off. You can clean it
completely tomorrow. You need to sleep.”
                “It’s four in the morning already,” Suga commented. “If I go to
sleep now, I won’t wake up until noon or later tomorrow, and then the day will
be wasted. You sleep. I’ll clean and have breakfast ready for you for when you
wake up.”
                Daichi sighed heavily, clearly too tired to argue any further,
and almost instantly conked out. Suga smiled a tight-lipped smile and went to
make himself a cup of coffee.
                                     * * *
                At around 7am, Suga vomited in the sink, not making it to the
toilet. He was washing dishes when a wave of nausea punched him and he threw up
into the water. The mug in his hand flew from his hand and shattered against
the ground.
                “Fuck,” he mumbled, stomach churning again. He rubbed his
burning eyes, exhaustion blanketing him. “Fuck. Fuck my life. Fuck me. Fuck.
Fuck!”
                Suga slid to the ground and picked up the split up chunks of
the mug, putting them on the counter. He dragged himself back up and reached
into the vomit water, pulling the plug and then taking the dishes out again. He
let his body slump back against the floor.
                He was asleep before the sink finished draining.
                                     * * *
                Some time later, he woke up in bed. His body was wet and
burning with sweat, his clothes sticking to him. The bed sheets were tangled
around his legs and his throat was sandy. The moment his eyes flew open, he
scrambled for his phone to see what time it was.
                1:21 PM.
                “Daichi!” he croaked, wincing at the pain that tore apart his
throat. “Daichi! Why didn’t you wake me up!?”
                Suga got out of bed, swaying dangerously as he stood. The world
went black for a few seconds and it cleared away in sparks of stars. As soon as
he could see again, he dizzily staggered to the door, already feeling his chest
tighten and tears blur his vision.
                “Suga, whoa, hey, steady,” Daichi said, coming around the
corner, grabbing Suga’s elbow. “I think you’ve got a fever. Take it easy.”
                Heat was literally radiating off of Suga, and he could feel it
around him like a humid cloud. He glared, unable to stop the scrunching of his
nose and the pouting of his lips as a fat tear slid over his cheek. “You didn’t
wake me up,” he whimpered. “You didn’t wake me up! I have things to do.”
                “Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay,” Daichi said gently. “You need
to take care of yourself though. You haven’t been eating, you haven’t been
sleeping, and now you’re sick. You’ve been overexerting yourself and you need
to stop for a day or two.”
                “Daichi, the world isn’t just going to waitfor me because I’m
sick,” Suga responded. He slid out of Daichi’s hold and brushed past him, going
into the kitchen. He saw the dishes were washed and put away. The shattered mug
was gone. There was a pot of soup on the stove. There were bags of groceries on
the counter.
                Daichi slid his arms around Suga’s waist and rested his chin on
his shoulder. “You work on your classes and let me handle the rest, alright?
The world won’t stop, but you can. Just for a day. You stop and let the rest of
the world move on.”
 
***** Firecracker *****
Chapter Summary
     Collection #2... We Have It All by Pim Stones
Chapter Notes
     - Kageyama Tobio
     - Underage Drinking
     - Drunk Driving
     - Minor Nudity
     - Vulgar Language
     - 1444 Words
                                                                   Collection 2
 
Kageyama didn’t plan on going to the second half of the day’s classes in the
first place. Hinata and him didn’t exactly day drink very often, but this
particular day seemed like a good one for such a thing.  
                During their English class, they cracked open a couple of cold
ones, drinking almost continuously through the hour. It didn’t take Hinata very
long to get a little bit tipsy, but Kageyama on the other hand had to continue
drinking well into Global Studies. Halfway through that class, Kageyama was
feeling good.
                Maybe he wasn’t sufficiently drunk enough to pass out or throw
up, but he was fucked enough to not bother hesitating before getting into the
car. Even if he had been in the right mind, Kageyama didn’t care that he was
too drunk to drive. Drunk was good. Drunk and driving is fine. If he crashed,
whatever. If he got hurt, whatever. If he died, whatever. He didn’t give a shit
what happened.
                So, with a beer in one hand and keys in the other, Kageyama got
behind the wheel with Hinata jumping in beside him. He revved the engine and
tore out of the parking lot, a sudden blinding rage sweeping through his body.
He wanted people to hurt.  
                At first, Kageyama tried to obey the laws of the road, but
quickly the alcohol weighed his foot down until he was reaching speeding down
the narrow streets like a comet. Hinata whooped as they screamed around a
corner, nearly hitting a car parked on the other side of the street.
                “Hey, slow down, slow down,” Hinata laughed. His words held no
seriousness. He leaned forward and rummaged through the glove compartment,
pulling out a vape and putting it to his lips. He blew the smoke out of his
mouth, filling the truck. After exhaling, he said, “Wanna know what I heard the
other day?”
                “Hm?” Kageyama hummed, blowing a stop sign. Somebody honked.
                “I heard that Akaashi was raped at that party the other night.
And Jae and Seung have pictures,” Hinata answered. He propped his feet up on
the dashboard and rolled his head to look at Kageyama. He held out a hand for
the beer bottle and mumbled, “Lemme have a sip.”
                Kageyama took another swig and then passed it over. The
information that Akaashi had been raped slid in one ear and out the other.
Kageyama liked Akaashi, but he could bring himself to care. He couldn’t bring
himself to feel.
He jerked the wheel around a corner and clipped a ‘School Zone’ sign. The wing
mirror of the car exploded in a shatter of plastic, making Hinata flinch.
                “Shit! Shit!” he shrieked, shielding his face despite the
window being closed. The beer bottle slipped out of his hand and spilled over
the floor mat. Hinata whined unbuckling his seatbelt and spinning around,
reaching for the cooler in the back seat. Kageyama’s vision was beginning to
tunnel on the road. I heard Akaashi was raped at the party.Kageyama had never
had sex. He’d never wanted or desired to. He didn’t spit at the idea of sex,
but he preferred not to. He wasn’t uncomfortable with his body. He masturbated
almost every night. He watched porn. I heard Akaashi was raped at the party.Sex
wasn’t disgusting, but rape sure was. Kageyama had a cousin who killed herself
because she had been sexual assaulted by her older sister’s boyfriend.
Kageyama clenched his teeth and floored the pedal. The vehicle made a horrible
sound of complaint before lurching forward. “Oh, my god, Yama, slow down!
Slow—”
                The front wheels scraped over a curb and practically flew
towards a post office. Before Hinata could finish his sentence, they crashed
through the outside wall and the air bags exploded in a burst of bright white.
                                     * * *
                Kageyama woke up not in a hospital bed, but in a jail cell in
the county sheriff’s office. His arm was in a cast and his entire body ached
like he’d just drove through a building—which he had. His head pounded with a
thousand vibrating drums.
                He pushed himself into a sitting position and looked at the
officer reclined in a chair.
                “Ah, you’re awake. How’re you feeling? Want some water?”
                “Please,” Kageyama croaked. He scooted forward on the bench and
grasped the bars enclosing him. The officer got up and filled a paper cup,
passing it to him and then putting his hands on his hips.
                “You wanna tell me what you and your lil’ firecracker were
doing crashing into the post office on your little joy ride?” he asked.
                Kageyama gulped back the water and the sandpaper in his throat
burned like hell. He passed it back to the officer, politely asking for more
and then said, “Got drunk.  ‘m sorry. Was anyone… Was anyone hurt?”
                The officer handed the second cup of water through the bars.
“Just your friend. Got his Jell-O jiggled pretty good and broke his collar
bone. The post office was closed though; lucky for you. You could have been in
deeper shit if there’d been civilians in there.”
                Kageyama dropped his head and pressed his fingers into his
temples.
                “Is he going to be okay?” he mumbled. “Is he in the hospital?”
                “Yeah, he’ll be okay,” the officer responded. “You boys are
lucky, let me tell you that. You’re getting off with a warning today, but if
this happens again it’ll be going on your record. It’s going on Hinata’s this
time and that’s on you.”
                Kageyama’s head snapped up, making him reel. “Why? Why am I
getting a warning and he’s not? I was the one driving!”
                “He’s in the system. Everything they do goes in their file. I
don’t make the rules. He’s technically the government’s kid, and they make the
rules. It could have been worse for him. Underage drinking in a foster kids
file is nothing surprising.” The officer walked over to a corded phone on the
wall and pulled it off, passing it to Kageyama. “Call someone to come pick you
up. Your truck is destroyed and your license is indefinitely suspended. Can’t
let you go without a legal guardian to get you, kid.”
                Kageyama nodded, knowing how it worked. He took the phone and
punched in his mom’s cell number, praying that she would pick up. The officer
went back to his chair and crossed his arms, watching Kageyama. The phone rang
three times.
                “Huh?”
                “Mom?” Kageyama asked, looking at his feet.
                “Who’s this?”
                “Tobio, mom. Your only child,” he said slowly. He could
practically smell the alcohol on her breath through the phone. “Can you come
pick me up?”
                “Tobi…?” she hummed. “Where’re you? This isn’t your number.”
                Kageyama looked up at the officer, suddenly embarrassed. “No,
it’s not. I’m- I’m at the police station. I got arrested. Can you come get me?
I’ll explain everything later, but I just need you to come and get me.”
                “For fucks sake, Tobio. I’ll be there right away.”
                “Thanks,” he whispered. “And mom? Don’t drive, please. Call a
cab or something. Just don’t drive. I can tell you’re drunk.”
                There was a lengthy pause and then, “I won’t, baby. I promise,
I won’t.”
                And then the line clicked off.
                                     * * *
                “You could have gotten seriously injured,” his mom said,
stumbling into the kitchen, and pulling open the fridge. She grabbed another
beer.
                Kageyama stared at the naked form sprawled on the living room
sofa. Her legs were spread open and her breasts were in plain view. He pulled
his gaze away and looked back towards his mother. They stared at each other in
silence, before Kageyama spoke.
                “Who is she?”
                His mom flapped a hand, putting the bottle down and grabbing
some plates off the table. She tossed them into the sink unceremoniously,
saying, “No one to worry about. She’s just helping your momma out for a little
while.”
                Kageyama looked at the woman again. “She’s naked.”
                “Yes,” his mom said. She patted his cheek as she walked by.
“It’s the best way to have sex, baby boy. Now you go to your bedroom and think
about your actions today. I’ll see you in the morning, alright? I love you.”
                She dropped down on the recliner, put her feet up on the coffee
table and turned on the television. Kageyama heaved a sigh and hit the light
switch as he walked by, putting the house into darkness. He didn’t turn the
light on in his room, just dropped onto the bed, tugged his pants off, and
began to jerk himself off.
***** Kick the Dog That Disobeys *****
Chapter Summary
     Collection #2... We Have It All by Pim Stones
Chapter Notes
     - Kozume Kenma
     - Mental/Emotional Abuse
     - Panic Attack
     - Vulgar Language
     - 2293 Words
                                                                   Collection 2
 
The cupboards were barren. It wasn’t really an issue for Akaashi or Kenma,
personally, but Kuroo and Bokuto were constantly complaining about being
hungry. Akaashi preferred to stay away from calories, and Kenma just didn’t
really eat unless it was handed to him. That morning, Kuroo decided to go
grocery shopping—dragging Kenma with him. Bokuto was sleeping still, and
Akaashi hadn’t stayed the night and was at his own apartment.
                Kenma, never without his phone, wasn’t the greatest company and
he hated that he always felt like he was annoying Kuroo (or anyone) by
constantly being on his phone, but he hated having to socialize because people
would… analyze. Games were easier. There was a set goal. There were rules.
There were controls. There was a persona to hide behind.
                In the Uber beside Kuroo though, it wasn’t a game this time
that had him so engrossed in his phone. It was the incoming texts from his mom
and dad.
                Dadkenma please call me to let me know you’re alright
                Dadit wouldn’t be the best for you to come home right now, but
just let me know you’re okay?
                MomI haven’t seen you in three days. I’m giving you until
tonight to come and get your things if you don’t call and explain yourself.
                MomI’m selling all your games and your play stations if you
keep this sort of behaviour up.
                MomI am sick and tired of you.
                Dadif you don’t want to call or talk, at least let me know if
youre with Kuroo
                MomI will be calling to phone company to cancel your contract
this afternoon. I will not put up with your fucking behaviour anymore. Always
playing your childish games and ignoring your mother and father. You never do
what I ask. I’ve had enough of ‘being nice’. Say goodbye to your games, say
goodbye to your phone, and say goodbye to Kuroo. I want you home right now.
                MomYou’re an awful role model for your sister. How do you think
she feels with you as her older brother? You never think of anyone but
yourself. I raised you and I took care of you all these years. Not Kuroo.
                MomI’ve also gone through your computer. That will also be
going.
                MomIt’s no wonder you’re a corrupted little whore. The amount
of gay pornography on your laptop is disgusting. If I EVER find you doing
ANYTHING with another boy I will never call you my son again.
                Dadwhere are you? Kenma please answer
                MomAnswer me or get your ass home right this instant.
               Kenma slowly tapped out a reply to his mother, his hands
trembling. He suddenly felt like he was being engulfed in absolute terror at
the thought of his mom selling his things; going through his computer; finding
his porn. He was going to vomit.
                “I have to go home,” Kenma said quietly, looking at the ripped
hole in Kuroo’s jeans.
                “Huh? Why?” Kuroo asked, looking up from his own phone.
                Kenma clenched and released his fist slowly, scratching at the
cuff of his sweater. He could tell Kuroo the truth. Kuroo knew. He would help
Kenma; he would try to defend him. The only problem was—now his mom thought
that Kenma was gay and she already hated Kuroo.
                “It’s nothing. Just my dad. He’s worried about me,” Kenma lied.
                “Oh, well, what about your mom? Is she going to be home?”
                Kenma shook his head. His stomach was doing flips. The more
time he wasted talking about this, the chances of his belongings being tossed
out a window increased. His mouth had gone dry and it was nearly impossible to
swallow.
                Kuroo studied Kenma with eyes that knew Kenma was lying, but he
leaned forward and told the driver Kenma’s address, asking him to take him
there after he was dropped off at the grocery store.
                                     * * *
                Kenma barely got through the door before his mom came around
the corner and snatched his wrist, dragging him into the house. His phone flew
out of his hand as his mom yanked him forward, bouncing off the wall and
landing solidly on the hardwood floor.
                “My phone—”
                “Forget about your fucking phone!” his mom interrupted. “That’s
all you do all day! Your god damn phone and games! You have no manners or
respect for anything!”
                Kenma stumbled over his feet as his mother jerked him into the
kitchen, her nails digging into his wrist. He swallowed thickly and avoided his
sister’s cold gaze. He could hear his dad coming down the stairs, saying,
“Hosumi, Hosumi, just calm down, okay?”
                “This is your fucking son, Kazu. He’s your problem just as much
as he is mine. We haven’t known where he’s been for the last three days. That’s
unacceptable.”
                “I thought we wanted him to go out into the world and be
independent?” Kenma’s dad questioned, keeping his eyes trained on his fuming
wife. “He’s growing up. It’s normal for him to start hanging out with his
friends more than his family. He’s making a place for himself in the world.”
                Kenma was unable to stop his shaking. His stomach was churning
and he wanted to break down, knowing his phone was likely very, very broken. He
didn’t have the money to buy a new one. He had no control over his money. How
he spent his money was up to his mom—and she never let him spend it, unless it
was to buy her dinner.
                “I don’t care,” his mom snapped. “He has no right to drop
contact from me. I’m his mother. I should know his whereabouts all the time.
That’s my job. How can I do my job if he doesn’t listen?”
                “I was just with Kuroo; I’m always just with Kuroo,” Kenma
said, trying to diffuse the situation slightly.
                “Oh, my god!” his mom suddenly spun on him. “It’s always Kuroo
this, Kuroo that! That boy is a bad influence!”
                Hana crossed her arms and commented, “I bet it was Kuroo that
introduced you to gay sex, wasn’t it, Kenma?”
                “You, shut the fuck up, this doesn’t involve you, Hana!”
                Hana flinched, but quickly regained her cool exterior.
                “The gay porn, the violent video games, the shows that
encourage rebellion—it’s all a bad influence and that’s why I am cancelling
both of your phone contracts, I will be getting rid of your television, and
your games, Kenma. I’m taking your laptops and phones. The both of you. I will
nothave this sort of harmful behaviour in my household.”
                “Mom—” Hana protested.
                “Please, don’t—” Kenma weakly begged.
                “Hosumi, let’s not make any rash descisions—” their dad
started.
                “I don’t want to hear it! Not from any of you!” their mom
shouted, clenching her fists. “This is my house and I won’t let any of you
speak to me like this! Hana, Kenma, I want you to bring all your electronics
down here in five minutes or I’m taking away all of your privileges!”
                The two quickly scrambled to the staircase and as Hana pushed
in front of Kenma, she quietly said under her breath, “This is all your fucking
fault. Do something right for once, maybe? You can start off by fucking
leaving.”
                Kenma couldn’t breathe.
                Six minutes later, there were 2 laptops, 2 cellphones, a PSP, 3
DS’s, and an entire box full of games sitting on the kitchen table. Hana was
scowling furiously, her eyes glossy with tears, and Kenma was seconds away from
a panic attack.
                “I want both of you to go to your room for the rest of the day.
Neither of you are to come out for lunch or supper. You stay there and think
about your actions today. Good for nothing, useless kids.”
                Kenma pushed a fist to his mouth, biting down on his index
finger as their mother roughly tossed their devices into a bin. He could feel
vomit rising in his throat. He now had no way to contact Kuroo; he had no way
to get out of the house. Suddenly, reality was closing in on him and crushing
his chest. He couldn’t get away. He was trapped in his house. He was stuck
beneath his mother’s heel.
                “Kenma…” his father said. “Hosumi, stop this. This isn’t
acceptable.”
                “I’m not asking for your opinion,” his mom snapped. She
clenched her hands against the edges of the table. “Hana, go to your room.
Right now!”
                Kenma was gasping for breath behind his fist as Hana scrambled
from their mother’s fury, rushing up the stairs.
                “Kenma, you’re okay, it’s okay,” his dad soothed. “Hosumi, you
know that you’re just making this worse. We need to talk about this. Kids these
days depend on their phones—for good reason sometimes. Hana loves her music and
the constant connection to the world around her is what keeps her running.”
                “I am their mother!” Hosumi screamed. “I’m their mother and I
will not be treated like this!”
                Kenma flinched as she smashed one of the DS’ on the floor. It
was times like this when Kenma would text Kuroo to pick him up and get him out
of the house before his mother’s anger turned towards him.
                But his phone was now broken and shattered on the entryway
floor.
                                     * * *
                Kenma didn’t waste any time. While Hana stormed off to their
room, he went straight to the window at the end of the hall and pried it open.
His parents were having a shouting match downstairs and Kenma was genuinely
scared he was going to fall off the roof due to the quickly oncoming panic
attack.
                As long as he could hold it back until he got away, he would be
fine. He had to be fine.
                Kenma jumped off the roof, landing with a solid thud on the
grass below. He’d narrowly missed his mom’s cement bird bath. He was in the
back yard, just outside the kitchen window where his parents were fighting.
Before they could see him, he ran to the gate and slipped out.
                Overhead, the sky was grey and the air smelled of electricity.
The houses he passed were lit up with warmth and no one was concerned about the
trembling boy walking down the pavement, his hair amuck and tears choking him
out.
                As Kenma walked, he knew that he would not be welcome back
home. His mom would cut off the last string and close the door. She would sell
all of his stuff. She would transfer his money into her own back account. His
sister would claim the room as hers alone and within a week, they would all
forget he ever existed.
                Kenma had nothing of value.
                He wasnothing of value.
                It began to rain.
                                     * * *
                Kenma was shivering from the rain when Daichi opened the
apartment door. For a few seconds, he just stared at Kenma, dripping and
gasping breaths. And then;
                “I- I think I’m hav-having a panic attack,” Kenma stuttered. He
didn’t thinkhe was, he knew he was and he’d been trying to keep it toned down
since he decided not to go to Kuroo’s. Now, standing on Suga and Daichi’s
doorstep, he couldn’t breathe.
                “Come- Come in, come in,” Daichi said, blinking with surprise.
He bundled Kenma into the room and immediately, Kenma sobbed, nearly tripping.
Daichi helped him into a kitchen chair.
                “Don’t tell Kuroo, don’t tell him, please,” Kenma said. His
breathing staggered. “Don’t tell him.”
                Daichi left and promptly returned with a towel, wrapping Kenma
tightly in it and then used another to dry his hair. “I won’t tell anyone
anything that you don’t want me to. But you need to tell me what happened;
what’s wrong? I don’t think you just went for a stroll in the rain and decided
to drop in.”
                Kenma began to cry harder, requiring Daichi to hold him
upright.
                “She took everything,” he croaked. “She took all my games and
she’s going to take all of my money. I can’t go back home. I can’t go back
home! I have nothing, Daichi!” A wrenching cry came from him and Daichi firmly
wrapped his arms around his shaking shoulders, holding him flush against his
chest.
                “Shh, sh,” Daichi said, rubbing Kenma’s back. “You can stay
here for the time being. I’ll give you my old phone and my laptop is free for
you to use whenever you want. It’s okay. You’re okay.”
                “She took everything I had, Daichi,” Kenma whimpered. “I don’t
have any money, I have nowhere to live, no job, no phone, no clothes—nothing!
I- I- I just want to die. It would be better if I’d kill myself. I’m worthless.
I’m worthless. I’m worthless.”
                “No, you’re not; you’re an important person to a lot of us.
What your mom conditioned you to believe is wrong. You aren’t worthless at all,
Kozume.”
                “She flushed my pills. She flushed my pills! I don’t have any
refills,” Kenma cried.
                Daichi took a few deep breaths, hoping Kenma would follow. “Do
you know the name of your doctor? Or, if you want, I can make you an
appointment with mine and Suga’s doctor. We’ll start with getting you your
medication and go from there. Or, even smaller steps. Tonight, we’ll just get
you set up in the spare room. I’m sure you could borrow Suga’s clothes. Have a
hot shower, put some pyjamas on, and then I’ll start dinner. It’s going to be
okay. It’s not the end of the world.”
                Kenma shivered, but he began to quiet down, almost melding into
Daichi’s body. The cold rain had sunk deep into his bones.
***** The Chubby Kid in the Back *****
Chapter Summary
     Collection #2... We Have It All by Pim Stones
Chapter Notes
     - Sawamura Daichi
     - Vulgar Language
     - Reference to eating disorders
     - Reference to self harm
     - Minor sexual harassment
     - 2457 words
                                                                   Collection 2
 
The wind was cold and biting, freezing Daichi’s fingers as he tried to steadily
bring the cigarette to his lips. Yaku stood beside him, his shoulders hunched
and his body shivering. Neither of them spoke, puffing smoke in silence. It was
the ass-crack of dawn and the sun was turning the sky a dusty grey. The
creaking and clanging from inside the factory sliced through the untouched
morning peace.
                Yaku dropped his cigarette and smudged it under his boot,
rubbing his blue hands together. He sniffled, breaking the silence by asking,
“How’s Kenma doing?”
                “Okay, I guess. He’s been pretty down and stays in bed all
day,” Daichi said, shrugging. He dropped his cigarette as well. “Suga’s taking
him to get a refill on his pills today, so I’m hoping once he gets those back
in his system we’ll be able to get him on his feet again.”
                “And Kuroo? Does he know Kenma’s at your place?”
                “I told him yesterday. He’s worried, and Kenma refuses to talk
to him,” Daichi told Yaku. He blew into his cupped hands and turned to the
door, pulling it open and going back into the much too warm factory. Voices
shouted over the noise.
                The two of them put gloves on their hands and masks over their
mouths.
                “Oi! Get packing you two! I’ve gotten nothing done all morning
because you two keep dicking about!” Tamako shouted, leaning against a railing.
She glared down at them.
                Daichi waved a hand dismissively and slid a few packaged boxes
down the line. Yaku was beside him, and began pouring packing peanuts into a
box and then carefully placing the product inside. Once he was done, Daichi
taped it and slapped a stamp on the top. Another guy would take the boxes and
stick them onto Tamako’s trailer, where she would drive it out to the docks to
be loaded.
                And for the next two and a half hours, that’s what Daichi did.
The same repeated motions, over and over again. He felt like he was working in
a void, the sun still below the horizon, people still asleep all over the city.
                Daichi clocked out of work at 7am and got to the gym at 7:45.
There were a few people there, but for the most part it was quiet. He started
off with a light jog on the treadmill, staring out the window that showed the
pool area. There was only one girl making laps. Daichi wasn’t a big swimmer,
but it always seemed like a good way to work out everything at once.
                Despite being at the gym every morning, he never reached his
goal. He always looked in the mirror and saw that chubby kid from his primary
school days. He’d lost that fat by the time high school came around, but it
always came back so easily. He had to spend his days eating protein and working
out just to keep the build he currently had. One slip-up and he’d put on fifty
pounds.
                But, that used his entire mental stamina, leaving none for
college work or his job, or anything else, really—Suga included. He’d gotten
crankier in his years, but he’d also gotten stronger and more attractive. His
skin was better. He was eating better, and sleeping better. Daichi was overall
a better version of himself when he wasn’t overweight and causing earthquakes
everywhere he went.
                A little bit after nine, Daichi left the gym. He stopped by the
grocery store to get a few ingredients for breakfast, and then returned home to
get Kenma and Suga out of bed.
                Daichi pushed open the door to the spare room, peering into the
darkness. Kenma was amid a mass of blankets on the rickety single bed. Quietly,
Daichi crept in and knelt down, shaking Kenma lightly.
                “Hey… Kenma… it’s probably time to get up,” he said in a low
voice. “I’m going to get breakfast started right away, so why don’t you hop in
the shower quick and it’ll be ready when you get out?”
                “Mm,” Kenma moaned in protest, rolling over. “No.”
                Daichi heaved a sigh, biting his tongue. “You need to shower
and get out of bed today, okay? You’re going to get rotten pretty soon.”
                There was silence and then Kenma very quietly whispered, “I
already am.”
                “No, you’re not,” Daichi sighed again, standing. He pulled the
blankets back and tossed them to the floor. Kenma was a ball of spindly limbs,
wearing nothing but some underwear and an oversized shirt of Suga’s. “You’re
only going to feel worse and worse if you stay in bed, without your pills. Get
up, get dressed, and Suga’s taking you for a refill today.”
                Kenma didn’t move, but did quietly say, “Okay.” Daichi left it
at that, counting on Kenma to actually get himself out of bed, and went to his
and Suga’s room.
                Nothing had moved since Daichi left at 3am. Suga was still
taking up the majority of the bed; there was still a cloth in a bucket of water
(as Suga had been suffering night-sweats lately), and a scattered pile of
textbooks, notebooks, and pens on the floor. Suga was still completely out of
it, his body at long last getting the sleep that it needed. Daichi felt a
little bad waking him up.
                He climbed back into bed and looked at his boyfriend.
                “Suga,” he said gently, sliding one hand over the round of his
thin hip. “It’s about time to wake up. You’re taking Kenma to the doctor at
eleven, remember? I’m going to make some breakfast.”
                Suga cracked his eyes open and studied Daichi. He sighed
lightly and croaked out, “What’s my appetizer?”
                Daichi grabbed the hand that was pawing at his crotch. “Not
this morning. Not with Kenma here.”
                “We’ll just have to be quiet,” Suga said. He sat up and tugged
at the waist of Daichi’s khaki’s again. “It’s been so long. Let me just suck
you off quick. Please?”
                “No, Suga,” Daichi pressed. “I’m not in the mood right now. I
love you, but not right now.”
                Suga’s face fell and he stiffened. “Why not?”
                “Because I’ve been awake since three this morning and I don’t
feel like getting a blowjob. What don’t you understand about this? I’m saying
no. Go get ready and then come out for breakfast, okay?” Daichi said,
forcefully pushing Suga’s hands away and getting off the bed. Just as he was
closing the door, he heard Suga slam shut his bedside drawer and flick on a
vibrator.
                Back in the kitchen, Daichi began pulling out the ingredients
for breakfast. Asahi had shown him the recipe for savory oatmeal with an egg,
and Daichi thought it was actually pretty good. As he prepared breakfast, he
could hear the sound of the shower running from one end of the apartment, and
Suga moaning from the other.
                Just as he was putting the oatmeal into bowls, Kenma shuffled
into the kitchen.
                “Hey, it’s good to see you up,” Daichi said. He slid a bowl
onto the table for him. “Do you feel any better now that you’re squeaky clean?”
                “No,” Kenma said quietly, poking the egg yolk with a fork.
                Daichi chewed at the inside of his cheek and sat down at the
table across from him. He could no longer hear Suga, so he could only hope that
he would come out and eat before his food got cold.
                “I’m going to see Kuroo today,” Daichi said slowly, staring at
his oatmeal. “And after you and Suga are done at the doctor, he has to get to
work, so he’s going to drop you off with Kuroo and I. Maybe he can take you
home; if you want, obviously.”
                Kenma was silent, refusing to make eye contact.
                “Do I have a choice?”
                Daichi thought about it, and then apologetically said, “Not
really. But we can leave as soon as you two get there. Or you can go with
Kuroo. I know you probably don’t feel up to hanging out in public right now,
so… Whatever makes you most comfortable, okay?”
                Kenma sighed heavily and placed a small spoonful of porridge in
his mouth, chewing it slowly and thoroughly. Suga came up behind him and gave
his damp hair a ruffle before sitting down in front of the other untouched
bowl. Kenma pressed the back of his hand to his mouth, closing his eyes as if
he was about to be sick. 
                “You don’t have to eat all of it if it’s too much,” Daichi
said, sharing a look with Suga.
                Suga nodded. “Just try to eat as much as you can, yeah?”
                Kenma’s abhorrence towards food wasn’t a secret and never
hadbeen, as far as anybody knew. His dislike of food and weight just came with
him as a person. Daichi knew Kenma’s way of achieving a desirable figure wasn’t
totally acceptable, but Daichi also knew how disgusting being the biggest
person in the room felt.
                He didn’t want to encourage Kenma in starving himself, but he
also didn’t want to exactly stop him from being comfortable in his own skin.
The difference between Kenma and him was that Kenma had never been large.
                Daichi was the chubby kid; the kid that had to tug his shirt
over his belly constantly because it kept peeking out; the kid that could never
quite fit his fingers around his wrist. Daichi was the chubby kid at the back
of the classroom, trying to keep a smile on his face when he knewthat people
were consciously aware that he was the biggest one in the class.
                He lost that weight in his last two years of high school and he
would kill himself if he ever gained it back.
                                     * * *
                Kuroo was already sitting at a table when Daichi walked through
the door, bell tinkling above his head. Hanamaki, behind the counter, lifted a
hand in greeting before turning to ring someone through.
                “Alright?” Daichi asked, sliding into a chair across from
Kuroo.
                “Alright,” Kuroo replied. “How is he? Is he okay?”
                Daichi made a so-so motion with his hand. “He’s not bad. He got
up and had a shower this morning, and he’s at the doctor’s with Suga right now
to get a prescription for some more pills. He doesn’t seem too keen to see you
though. Why’s that?”
                “How should I fucking know? God, I was so fucking worried. I
thought he’d jumped off a cliff and someone would find his bloated corpse along
the shore somewhere.” Kuroo took a long sip from his Dr. Pepper. “Has he hurt
himself? Has he been eating?”
                “Not that I know of; and yeah, a little bit,” Daichi responded.
A girl he didn’t recognize came up to take his order before whisking away
again. As she walked away, a man sitting at another table slapped her ass.
Daichi turned back to Kuroo. “He ate most of the oatmeal I gave him this
morning.”
                Kuroo bobbed his head, mind somewhere else all of the sudden.
His leg was bouncing wildly beneath the table, slightly rattling his drink.
From inside the kitchen came the crash of a plate shattering. Daichi’s stomach
rumbled and clenched painfully.
                “Has Kenma’s mom always been like that? So controlling, I
mean…” Daichi asked, turning his attention back to Kuroo.
                Kuroo shrugged. “I guess so. She was always a helicopter
parent, but I think after a rough patch in her marriage she just got even
worse. She’s a fucking cunt, don’t get me wrong, but I think she’s just trying
to keep her family together, you know? She’s more desperate than anything.”
                Daichi hummed. The waitress came back with his chicken wrap and
lemon water, and kept a wide berth around the table of crude men as she
disappeared back into the kitchen. One of them belched loudly.
                By the time Suga and Kenma came through the doors, Daichi was
done his wrap. He waved to the two, beckoning them over. Before Suga could sit
next to him, Kenma slid into the seat beside Daichi, keeping his gaze down.
                “Everything good?” Kuroo questioned, concerned.
                Kenma nodded, and Daichi noticed his fingers tighten around the
little baggy from the pharmacy, holding his pills. He looked back up, eyeing
Suga—who was staring at the table of men with his chin in his hand.
                “Do they come here regularly?” Daichi asked, referring to the
men. The silence was killing him.
                “Not really, but often enough for us all to know their names
and numbers,” Suga mumbled. He closed his eyes and sighed, turning his head to
his rested in his hand rather than his chin. Silence once again lapsed over the
table. Daichi felt painfully self-conscious all the sudden.
                Kuroo was still watching Kenma with sharp eyes. Daichi looked
down at Kenma’s lap a second time; suddenly worried that maybe he had been
hurting himself without Daichi knowing. He knew that sometimes Kenma cut, but
for some reason he hadn’t even thought about it with him crashing at the
apartment.
                But Kenma was wearing a jacket, so Daichi couldn’t tell if he
had been hurting himself or not.
                “Are you going to go home with Kuroo?” wondered Daichi.
                Kenma frowned. “Um, can I have some water?” he asked quietly,
ignoring the question.
                Kuroo flagged down the waitress, ordering a glass of water for
Kenma. She came back with it in a few seconds, and after taking a few sips
through the straw, Kenma looked up and said, “I’ll go with Kuroo.”
                “Alright, that’ll be good. You have some things over there,
right? Like, clothes and stuff?” Suga asked.
                Kenma nodded. He chugged down some more of his water, still not
making eye contact. Daichi tried to empathize what how Kenma would be feeling
after so many days without his pills. Somehow, it wasn’t too hard.
                Suga checked his phone and pushed away from the table. “Well,
I’m off. I’ll catch a ride home, Dai. I’m not off until late. See you, guys.”
                Daichi smiled weakly at him, waving as he went behind the
counter and disappeared into the staff room.
                “Do you want to head home, kitten?” Kuroo asked, not oblivious
to the waves of anxiety rolling off of Kenma. Kenma nodded, and Kuroo pushed
away from the table as well. “We’re going to head out too, Daichi. Thanks, for
taking care of Kenma. I mean it. And you—“ he pointed at Kenma, “—never drop
off the grid like that again, you hear me? You gave me a constant heart attack
for nearly a week.”
                Kenma looked away and Daichi chuckled, waving them away as
well, leaving him at the table by himself.
***** Sudden Cardiac Arrest *****
Chapter Summary
     Collection #2... We Have It All by Pim Stones
Chapter Notes
     - Akaashi Keiji
     - Eating Disorder (Bulimia)
     - Vulgar Language
     - Mentions of Rape and CSA
     - 2393 Words
                                                                   Collection 2
 
“How are you doing these days, baby boy? You’ve been eating well? You’ve always
been a little bit of a glutton, so I’m sure you’re eating just fine,” his mom
said, laughing lightly. Her voice should have soothed him, but nothing seemed
to soothe him—nothing had for months.
            Akaashi, sitting in a stall in the bathroom at work, with his feet
propped up on the broken door to keep it shut, replied, “I’m fine. Have- Have
you gotten any days off of work? I remember you saying that they were
quarantined at the old folk’s home.”
            He wrapped his arms around his bent knees, grimacing at a sharp
pain in his chest. His heart felt like it was beating a million miles an hour.
            “Oh, god, no,” his mom answered. “I’ve been working double shifts
‘cause now all the staff are sick too. And on top of that, your aunt is
vomiting everywhere too. So, fingers crossed that I don’t catch whatever she’s
got. There’s definitely a virus going around.”
            Akaashi was silent, anxiously listening in case anyone came into
the washroom. His mom on the other end was keenly aware of his smothering
pause.
            “Is everything okay with you?” she asked gently, her tone getting
serious.
            He thought about the night his mom walked in on her husband pulling
out of her son, blood and cum dribbling out of his torn ass. She had seen her
only child at his very worst. There was nothing that Akaashi should be ashamed
to tell her at this point. Surely, he could tell her about being raped at the
party. She would know what to do. She always did.
            “No, I’m just tired,” Akaashi said, closing his eyes.
            But Akaashi wasn’t going to tell her. He wanted to just forget
about it.
            “Are you sure? ‘Cause if there’s ever anything—”
            “Akaashi? Are you in here?”
            Akaashi’s feet slammed to the floor, allowing the stall door to
swing open. Kindaichi came around and looked at him.
            “I’ve gotta go. I love you,” Akaashi said, hanging up quickly.
            Kindaichi frowned and asked, “Are you feeling okay? You look pretty
rough… Maybe you should go home?”
            Akaashi looked at his reflection in the black screen of his phone.
“Do I really look that bad?”
            “No!” Kindaichi exclaimed, throwing up his hands. “No, I don’t
think it’s possible for you to look bad. You just don’t look up to par is all.
You should go home, get some rest.”
            Akaashi put his head in his hands and mumbled, “Maybe I should…” He
tried to remember the last time he’d eaten something without throwing it up. He
tried to remember the last time he’d had something to drink. He tried to
remember the last time he’d slept more than three hours. He couldn’t.
            His lungs threatened to collapse again, making him tense in pain.
            “I’ll go get you some water and let Hanamaki know that you’re going
to go home. Do you want me to call Bokuto for you? Or someone else to come and
get you?” Kindaichi asked.
            “Water would be nice,” Akaashi croaked. His throat was burning with
the desire to vomit. “And I’ll call Kuroo. Bokuto’s probably in class right
now.”
            Kindaichi left, the door creaking closed. Akaashi pulled out his
contacts and tapped Kuroo’s name, putting it on speaker phone, listening to it
ring. Just before Kuroo answered, another knife thrust itself between Akaashi’s
ribs and he dropped down in front of the toilet, retching. His phone fell to
the ground beside him.
            “Keiji? Hello?”
            Akaashi coughed out a glob of blood and stomach acid, tears welling
in his eyes.
            “Kuroo, please come pick me up from work,” he said quietly.
“Please, please, please, I think I’m dying.” A hot fist clenched his heart,
bringing him to the grimy bathroom floor in pain. He pressed his cheek against
the cold tile, pulling the phone next to his mouth and putting it on speaker.
            “Akaashi?” Kuroo’s voice asked again, louder this time. “You
there?”
            Akaashi started crying. “Please, come get me,” he said. “I’m dying,
Kuroo. I think I’m dying. I—”
            Just as the fist tore his heart right out of his chest, the
bathroom door opened and Kindaichi dropped down to his knees, the water
splashing onto the floor. And then Akaashi disappeared.
                                     * * *
            “Squeeze Kuroo’s hand if you can hear me, Keiji.”
            Akaashi faded out again. His body felt like it was combusting. It
felt like his entire torso was being ripped in half.
            “Keiji, can you hear me?”
            He painfully gave the hand in his grasp a weak squeeze. Akaashi
opened his eyes and saw Hanamaki’s peach-coloured hair above him, illuminated
by blinding lights, giving him a glowing halo. Akaashi closed his eyes.
            “No, no, no, try to stay focused on my face,” Hanamaki’s voice
warbled. “Squeeze your hand if you know where you are. Stay with me, buddy…”
            Akaashi again gave a weak grip. He was at work. He was… working.
Was he at work?
           Hanamaki was running his hand in circles over Akaashi’s bare chest.
Someone else wiped his face with a rough paper towel. Had he vomited on
himself?
            “Keiji,” Hanamaki said firmly again, pulling Akaashi’s wavering
consciousness back to his pierced face. “Do you recognize me? Try and just
focus on my questions, okay?”
            Akaashi squeezed again. Of course he knew who he was. Hanamaki.
Hanamaki. Makki. He worked with Akaashi. Of course.
           Fire coursed up Akaashi’s throat and suddenly he was tilted onto his
side, puke dribbling from his mouth. But then he disappeared again.
                                     * * *
            A steady beeping and a constant buzzing; something large wrapped
around him and something small clipped on his finger; a pinch on his arm.
Akaashi opened his bleary eyes slowly, staring up at the dark void above him.
            Bokuto was curled beside him, lanky limbs folded onto the small
hospital bed. He had one hand in Akaashi’s hair, and the other one splayed out
over his chest, his thumb running back and forth soothingly. His usually spiked
hair was unusually flat.
            “Bokuto,” Akaashi wheezed almost silently. Nothing more than a
breath. He swallowed down the sand in his throat and tried again. “Bo… B-
Koutarou… Kou…”
            He scowled and flicked the clamp on his index finger to the floor
and a small bell trilled. Immediately, Bokuto was awake.
            “Oh, my god,” Bokuto said, putting a hand to Akaashi’s face. “I
thought you were going to die, you fucking idiot. I love you so fucking much.
Never do that again, god dammit.”
            A nurse came in, turned off the bell, and checked Akaashi’s vitals.
Once she left, Bokuto put his head down on Akaashi’s chest, listening to his
heart. Akaashi lifted a hand weakly and knotted his fingers into Bokuto’s hair.
Boktuo had an iron grip on him.
            “I thought you were going to fucking die,” Bokuto said quietly.
“You did die. They had to start your heart up again three times. Fuck, Keiji, I
thought you were better. Why didn’t you tell me you were bad again? Or anyone?”
            “I don’t know,” Akaashi whispered. In truth, he’d never been
better. He was just tired of people worrying about him so he preteneded he was
okay. But he didn’t know that he was going to cause this much trouble and hurt
Bokuto so badly in the process.
            “I was better,” Akaashi lied. “But then that night at the party
happened and… and it brought back all of the memories of my step-dad. I thought
I was over what he did. I guess not.”
            Bokuto was quiet.
            “You…” he started, before getting choked up. He cleared his throat.
“You’ll be okay. You don’t have to rush yourself with ‘getting over it’. With
what he did to you… and then the twins… You’re strong, ‘kaashi. And when you’re
good and ready, you won’t let them keep you from getting better. Until you can
do that on your own though… Maybe we can find you a therapist. You can’t keep
starving yourself, babe. I- I can’t lose you. These were the most terrifying
thirty-six hours of my life. Never again.”
            Akaashi didn’t respond. He just stared blankly at the ceiling and
wondered how he had fucked up so badly.
                                     * * *
            Four days after his collapse at work, Akaashi was released from the
hospital with very strict instructions to keep a log of what he was eating and
keeping down, so that he could show his food log to his therapist and
dieticians every Tuesday and Friday. He was given a three-month prescription
with 2 refills of antidepressants and antipsychotics—even though he swore he
didn’t need them. He wasn’t psychotic. Maybe a little bit depressed, but not so
depressed he needed drugs for it. And anyways, who wasn’t depressed these days?
            But the doctors claimed they would help with the effects of his
sexual abuse as a child, which in turn would hopefully fix his so-called eating
disorder. He wasn’t psychotic, he wasn’t depressed, he wasn’t bulimic, and he
sure as hell didn’t need help.
            And despite Bokuto’s persistence, there was absolutely no way he
was getting the police involved in him being raped at the party. No one needed
to know about that. There was nothing to be done. It happened, it was over, it
would be forgotten about.
            Akaashi ended up staying at Kuroo and Bokuto’s apartment so that
they could keep an eye on him. Akaashi didn’t care. What were they going to do
anyways?
            He let Bokuto enter the apartment first, carrying his luggage for
him. Akaashi stood out on the walkway, the wind whipping around him. Dried
leaves were spinning in tiny tornados in front of other apartment doors.
Akaashi glanced behind himself off the balcony. There was a lone shoe on the
sidewalk below, dirtier than dirt itself.
            “Are you going to come inside?” Bokuto asked.
            Akaashi stepped across the threshold and Bokuto closed the door
behind him. He was only in the apartment for ten seconds when Kuroo slammed
into him and gave him a bear hug. Akaashi grunted lightly, stumbling slightly.
Bokuto put a hand on his back to steady him.
            “Holy shit,” Kuroo said, holding the back of Akaashi’s head,
gripping his hair tightly. “You scared me to death when you called me. How are
you feeling? Do you need to sit down? I’ll get you some water. I think we have
some crackers if you want.”
            Kuroo let go and disappeared just as quickly as he came. Akaashi
grasped his chest, terrified his heart was going to give out any minute. It
seemed to be working double time since he was discharged.
            “I need to sit down,” he said breathlessly, placing a hand on the
wall as he stumbled to the living room. Bokuto trailed after him, holding out
his hands in case Akaashi collapsed. Slowly, Akaashi lowered himself to the
second-hand, thrifted sofa, gulping in air. Bokuto knelt down quietly in front
of him, watching him carefully.
            Kuroo came in with a glass of water and a row of crackers, putting
them on the coffee table. Bokuto picked up the water and held it out of
Akaashi, who took it with a loud sigh. He didn’t take a sip though, just sat on
the sofa catching his breath and trying to hold himself back from having a
panic attack.
            Kuroo sat down beside Bokuto and crossed his legs, checking his
phone awkwardly.
            “Why don’t you stretch out your legs?” Bokuto suggested, moving the
junk on the other half of the couch. Akaashi’s hand tilted and the water in the
glass dribbled out slightly before Bokuto steadied it, putting it down again.
“Lean back,” Bokuto said quietly, helping Akaashi into a reclined position,
pressing a hand to his boyfriend’s chest anxiously.
            “Is Kenma here?” Akaashi asked, pushing Bokuto’s hand away,
irritated.
            Kuroo looked up. “Yeah, he’s in my room. If he’s not napping, I can
see if he wants to say hi.”
            Akaashi nodded, his breathing already evening itself out as he sunk
into the worn couch. He quietly asked for the water again and slowly sipped at
it while Bokuto hovered above him. Kuroo’s deep voice could just barely be
heard from down the hall as he talked to Kenma.
            “Do you feel okay? Do you think we should go back to the hospital?”
Bokuto asked worriedly.
            “I’m fine,” Akaashi said. “It was just a long trip back. I’m just
tired is all. I’m fine.”
            “Okay, okay, but if anything feels even the slightest bit off you
tell me. What’s your heartrate at? Your phone… Let’s test it on your phone…”
            Akaashi moaned. “Not right now, Bo.”
            Kenma shuffled into sight, Kuroo behind him with his hands resting
on Kenma’s shoulders.
            “Hi,” Kenma said, perching himself hesitantly on the other end of
the sofa, near Akaashi’s feet. “Are you okay now?”
            “Yes,” Akaashi said, exhaustion sweeping over him. “How about you?”
            Kenma wiggled his toes and his mouth contorted in a way that only
suggested that he was viciously tearing at the skin inside his mouth. “You’re
the one that just got out of the hospital. I’m fine.”
            And that was the extent of their conversation. Akaashi was too
tired and Kenma was never big on conversation. Bokuto could tell that Akaashi
was just barely hanging onto consciousness and asked, “Do you want me to take
you to my room and you can nap there?”
            Akaashi very slightly nodded in silence and Bokuto helped him off
the sofa, lifting him into his arms with a grunt. Kuroo was brushing Kenma hair
with his hands, collecting it all into a short sprout on the top of his head as
Bokuto took Akaashi to his room. Akaashi was already passed out before he was
in bed.
***** The Devil's Routine *****
Chapter Summary
     Collection #2... We Have It All by Pim Stones
Chapter Notes
     - Sugawara Koushi
     - Vague Mentions of Rape
     - Minor Reference to Masturbation
     - Vulgar Language
     - Hypersexual Thoughts/Feelings/Actions
     - 2303 Words
                                                                   Collection 2
 
Suga slept until 9:30, when he woke up and trudged to the shower. Daichi was
home already and still asleep. He smelled of weed and nicotine. On his side of
the table was an empty bag of potato chips. Suga knew Daichi was going to be
grumpy when he woke up. If he woke up today.
            As usual, Suga spent too long in the shower, feeling his body, and
fingering himself until he came. Out of the shower, he ran some smoothing
product through his hair and brushed his teeth. As he cooled down from his
steamy shower, he pulled out his phone and texted Akaashi.
            Sugahow are you feeling? up to visitors yet?
            SugaI’m going out to run some errands later if you want some
company I can swing by
           He went to the kitchen and started making a cup of coffee, waiting
patiently for the response from Akaashi. His friend had been out of the
hospital for a few days now, and Suga had kept in contact with him. From what
it sounded like, Akaashi wasn’t doing too great. Daichi said that Bokuto was
worried about him—more than ever.
            Akaashiya u can come by if you want
           Suga stared blankly at the stove as the coffee pot sputtered and
growled. There were loud machines outside, beeping and clanging and screeching,
sometimes interrupted by the sound of a jack hammer or a drill. For the first
time in what felt like days it was sunny outside, not windy or gloomy.
            BeepBeepBeep!
           Suga pulled out the pot and sloshed the steaming coffee into a mug.
He was smacked in the face of the strong scent of freshly brewed caffeine. He
poured in some cream (too much by most people’s standards) as well as a small
sprinkling of sugar.
            It tasted absolutely disgusting.
            “What the fuck,” Suga grumbled, glaring at his mug. Some days he
could make a god damn great cup of coffee, but other’s, it tasted like boiled
water and dirt. He poured it down the sink and sighed, deciding to walk down
the street, and just ordering some coffee from the Starbucks that Oikawa worked
at.
            So Suga threw on a light jacket, jammed his feet into a pair of
Daichi’s Timberlands, and started tromping down the stairs of their apartment
building. He passed a sad, deserted bouquet of flowers on his way down and
wondered whose heart had been recently broken.
            Outside, the sun was brighter than Suga originally anticipated and
his eyes instantly ached, making him squint and lift a hand. One of the
construction workers across the street catcalled a lady walking by, whistling
loudly. Suga ignored the exchange and kept walking, wanting nothing more than
coffee and death. His head was beginning to pound from the sun as he walked
down the street, making him grumpier with every step he took.
            Suga pushed through the Starbucks entrance, taking a heavy inhale
as he entered, the swirling smell of properly brewed coffee easing his headache
instantly. He looked up and scanned the employees, looking for Oikawa. Sure
enough, there he was, with a fake smile plastered on his face and two hickeys
on his neck.
            “Hey,” Suga said, approaching the counter. “You look awful. Stay up
too long rolling around with Iwaizumi last night?”
            “Just tell me what you want,” Oikawa said, giving Suga a look. “I
didn’t get out of work at the theatre until almost two in the morning last
night. I high key wish I was dead right now.”
            “Me and you both. I’ll have a large coffee.”
            “Venti, but sure,” Oikawa corrected, constantly bothered by Suga’s
inability to remember how Starbucks sizes worked. “Oh, hey, have you heard from
Akaashi lately? I heard what happened from Makki. That’s crazy.”
            Suga leaned against the counter as Oikawa got his drink. “I haven’t
really heard much on how he’s been doing, but I know he’s, like, super
embarrassed about it. Bokuto told Daichi that he doesn’t want to see anyone,
and he just stays in bed most days. But, I mean, fair enough. He was
technically dead for, what? Thirty minutes total or something? I’m going to see
him later today though.”
            Oikawa handed Suga his drink, and Suga in turn passed him a five-
dollar bill.
            Before Suga turned away, Oikawa leaned forward and asked in a low
voice, “Do you think it has to do with what happened at Noya’s party?”
            Suga shrugged. “Maybe, but Akaashi’s always struggled with
bulimia—even though he denies it. It might have pushed him over the edge, I
don’t know. I don’t know, Tooru. Life doesn’t really like to treat him with
kindness.”
            “Oikawa! Stop chit-chatting and get back to work!”
            Oikawa silently mimed hanging himself and Suga said goodbye,
letting him get back to work.
                                     * * *
            He stopped by the post office and grabbed a handful of flyers and
other useless junk after stopping at Starbucks. He continued on his walk
throughout town, the sun blazing down on top of him. He had originally planned
on taking an Uber on his errands, but now that he was out, walking down the
sidewalks, he figured he might as well just keep on going.
            To the pharmacy to get some more cold medicine for himself; to the
dollar store to buy some more sticky notes; to a bargain store to get a cheap
pair of earbuds; and so forth. Wherever Suga went, whatever he bought, he would
slip into a crinkly, reuseable grocery bag that he’d snagged from the pharmacy.
They wouldn’t miss the $2.50 that he’d failed to pay.
            By the time Suga was finished his errands, he was sweating and
panting from his trek out in the sun. He checked his phone for the time and if
Daichi had texted him, asking where he’d gone. He hadn’t, so Suga didn’t worry
about it. It was lunch time, and Suga was miles from home by now, so he figured
he would drop into the Save-On-Foods that was across the street from where he
was at the moment.
            Suga was blasted by cool air as soon as he walked in and welcomed
it with a sigh. He headed walked around aimlessly for a little bit while his
body temperature lowered, and then picked up a pre-made-pre-packaged sandwich
and a bottle of water. At the register, he asked the girl if they sold
cigarettes. No, she said, but the gas station just a few buildings down did.
Suga thanked her and took his small lunch, making a stop at the gas station as
his final errand.
            He sat on an advertising bench on a corner while he ate his
sandwich and periodically took sips from his water. Cars were whipping by him,
and people walked past with clear intent to not make eye contact. From where he
was, it was about another twenty-minute walk to Bokuto and Kuroo’s apartment.
            Ting!
            Daichido u have condoms
            Sugano I thought you did
            Sugaalso who are you having sex with
            Daichino one but I just found the empty box in the kitchen
            Daichiur running errands right? get some if you have time
            Sugaoo do I see sex in the very near future?
            Daichiidk only if you get condoms
           Suga frowned and tapped out a reply, already knowing what Daichi’s
response would be.
            Sugawhy do we need condoms tho
            Daichicuz you haven’t gotten checked for an sti lately
           Of course. Suga was always an STI risk. Suga was good about using
condoms when he didn’t know if someone was safe or not, but Daichi didn’t seem
to believe him. Either way, Suga was already horny for sex, so at the next drug
store he passed, he stopped in and grabbed a pack of condoms.
            Finally, half an hour later, he made it Bokuto and Kuroo’s
apartment.
            “Geez, Suga, did you walk all the way here?” Kuro asked as he
opened the door.
            Suga, flushed in the cheeks and exhausted, nodded silently and
pushed past Kuroo into the cool apartment. Sitting in front of the TV was
Bokuto and Kenma, playing Mario Kart. Akaashi was sleeping on the sofa behind
them.
            “Hey, Kenma; Bokuto,” Suga said as he entered. Both absently said
hello back, too absorbed in the game. Suga dropped his bag on the floor and
stood there for a moment, catching his breath.
            “Want some water?” Kuroo offered, raising an eyebrow.
            “Please,” Suga said, fanning his face. Kuroo brought him some water
and picked up the cracker package in front of the couch, having a few of the
saltines himself.
            After Suga had cooled down and gotten rid of the black spots
dancing in his vision, he sat down on the recliner and looked over at Akaashi.
He looked sickly, almost jaundiced, and his face was puffy. Not so noticeably
so, but his cheeks held the roundness of a chipmunk or a baby—not at all like
how it should have been normally.
            “Did he put on weight?” Suga asked quizzically, genuinely confused.
            “No, it’s something to do with… Making himself vomit all the time…”
Bokuto responded distractedly. “Swollen salivary glands, doctors said,” he
mumbled.
            Suga looked at Akaashi again, quietly saying, “Oh.” He turned his
attention to Kenma, silently wondering if he’d been doing okay. He didn’t want
to ask, knowing Kenma probably wouldn’t answer while in the middle of a game.
            Their round finished, with Kenma coming in first and Bokuto coming
in third. Before starting the next round, Bokuto turned around and tapped
Akaashi awake, telling him that Suga was there.
            “How have you been doing, Kenma?” Suga asked, now given the chance.
            “Fine,” Kenma said tersely, choosing the next arena in Mario Kart.
He didn’t turn around to look at Suga.
            Suga looked over at Kuroo who just shrugged, but it was obvious
that he knew what was up. Nonetheless, Suga let it go and looked over at the
sluggish Akaashi, who had his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes roughly.
            “Leave me out of this round,” Bokuto told Kenma, giving him
permission to start the game without him. Kenma sighed irritably, shifting his
position on his beanbag, leaning away from Bokuto. Bokuto ignored it and just
quietly watched Akaashi slowly wake up.
            “Hi, Suga,” he said, finally looking up.
            For a fraction of a second, Suga was thrown off by how awful
Akaashi looked.
            “Hey, how are you doing?” Suga asked gently, suddenly feeling
awkward.
            “Well… Better than I was five days ago,” Akaashi responded, making
it very clear that he wasn’t doing great. Suga couldn’t blame him, and he
didn’t expect him to be doing well, but seeing him in person was a lot more of
a shock than he was anticipating.
            “You should stretch your legs. You’ve been sleeping for a while,”
Bokuto said. He got to his feet and held his hands out, taking Akaashi’s bone
thin fingers.
            Akaashi’s face flushed red and he pulled out of Bokuto’s grasp. “I
can get up myself.”
            Bokuto stepped back, frowning doubtfully but letting Akaashi slowly
and unsteadily get to his feet by himself. Suga got up as well, watching
Akaashi carefully. Once he was steady, Suga suggested they pace up and down the
length of the apartment balcony. Akaashi agreed and the two went outside into
the heat.
            Akaashi walked along the railing, gripping it tightly with one
hand.
            “I’ll probably come back to work soon,” Akaashi said. “Sorry about…
you’re probably getting all my shifts.”
            “Oh, no, don’t worry about it. Take time getting better. You
shouldn’t be back at work for another two weeks at least, to be frank. You can
barely walk, Keiji. Take your time to heal,” Suga said. He looked over at
Akaashi’s bloated cheeks.
            Suga chewed his lip and then asked, “Have you… Was it what happened
at the party? Did you try to kill yourself?”
            “No, to both. I guess it was just five years of vomiting up
everything that I ate that caused my heart to give.”
            Suga sucked in a breath of air and pulled out a cigarette and lit
it. Akaashi and him passed it back and forth as they walked along the balcony.
Neither of them spoke; they just sucked in the nicotine in silence. They didn’t
finish the cigarette before Suga suggested they go back inside. Akaashi was
breathing heavily and his face was as white as a sheet.
            They got inside and Akaashi went straight to the bathroom. Bokuto
followed right on his heels and the other three pretended not to hear the
sobbing sounds of retching and vomiting. Suga wondered if he shouldn’t have let
Akaashi have the cigarette.
            “Has he been throwing up a lot since getting out of the hospital?”
Suga wondered, concerned.
            “Yeah, but he hasn’t been making himself throw up. It’s the
medication he’s on. It makes him really nauseous,” Kuroo said.
            “Well, that’s kind of counter-productive, don’t you think?”
            Kenma threw his controller to the floor and got up, leaving the
living room suddenly. Suga rose an eyebrow and watched him disappear. A door
slammed.
            “What about him? Is he okay?” Suga asked.
            Kuroo sighed and shrugged. “He’s been touchy since Akaashi was
taken to hospital. I think it just spiked his anxiety and he’s been moody.
He’ll be fine. It was just super scary for him. All of us, obviously, but Kenma
took it hard.”
            “Oh,” Suga said flatly. “Well, it seems like you two have your
hands full here, so I’ll get going. It was nice seeing you guys.”
            Suga left the apartment, running down the stairs to the pavement
below and called the closest person he knew to where he was.
            “Hey, are you home? I really need to get fucked.”
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