Growing up as a social person, Sora Suzuki was surrounded by love and affection- even from the most random people. Tender strokes, gentle kisses. Love came to him in the form of five unique beings, and damn, he's in deep. But when shit happens, and...
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DECEMBER THIRTY FIRST, TWO THOUSAND AND TWELVE
22:03 at night
DECEMBER'S LANGUAGE was imprecise grief, and January's? Oh, how dumb. How fraudulent. It does not cleanse— no mind, heart, or soul is at peace. Certainly not Sora Suzuki's. A new year had arrived, blessing delusional individuals with promises of reformations. A facade. A fucking lie.
He laid on damp grass, sprawled out in a starfish position, arms and legs extended. Empty glass bottles littered his surroundings, and his previous teammates lounged around him. The Shiratorizawa group had gotten together, sneaking into their school's pool and messing around as the seconds ticked passed, anxiously awaiting the new year.
Sora had accompanied them, if only to get away from a lonely house.
Kageyama was out with his volleyball teammates, dressed in a traditional, obviously expensive montsuki: a black silk kimono worn over a white under-kimono and hakama, traditional Japanese trousers
"You look good, Kageyama!" Sugawara complimented, bounding up to his kouhais with his soulmates on either side of him.
Dim lights decorated the various stands, strung together haphazardly. Lanterns hung from the dark wires, adding a red and amber hue to the carnival's atmosphere. Laughter rang from children, echoing through the air, twirling with winter's chilly breeze. The Karasuno boys' volleyball team stood together, huddled in a group for an ounce of warmth. Each wore their signature colours, burying themselves under oversized outfits.
"Thanks," Tobio replied, a muted pink painting his cheeks. "Sora got it for me."
Nishinoya arched a brow. Buzzing on the spot from excitement and adrenaline, the libero blurted out, "Is Suzuki-senpai your sugar daddy or something?"
Confusion brimmed in ocean eyes.
"He took you to Italy," Nishinoya began to explain, moving his arms around to exaggerate his words, "took you to the Olympics, buys you clothes, buys you watches, necklaces, and stuff. And all you do is suck his cock." The shorter male shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, holding onto a basket filled with various arrays of treats. "That sounds like sugar daddy vibes to me."
Crimson, a delectable sight— heat emitted off Tobio's face, eyes widening. Daichi, Asahi and Sugawara all turned to the second year, berating him for his foul language. That, and for corrupting their innocent setter.
Not like Sora hadn't done that already.
"What? All I did was state the truth." Nishinoya turned to Asahi, the older male dressed in a plain and traditional outfit. "Why can't you be my sugar daddy?"
