We built our get away up in a tree we found.
We felt so far away but we were still in town.
Now I remember watching that old tree burn down
I took a picture that I don't like to look at.
Well, all these times they come and go
And alone don't seem so long
Over ten years have gone by
We can't rewind,
We're locked in time
But you're still mine
-Jack Johnson
Chapter Text
When I was twelve years old my parents took a trip south to visit some family on my mother's side, leaving me home alone with plenty of money for food and a sense of responsibility balancing precariously on my bony shoulders.
The first day was perfect. I did what any twelve year old boy would do; watched whatever TV channels I wanted, ate as many sweets as I could find, and practiced my guitar as loud as I could. I was free; an uncaged bird able to flap his wings and sing his songs, but that feeling only lasted so long.
The excitement had faded to a dull drumming by the second day, accompanied by a stomachache and a confused circadian rhythm. And by the third day, I was wandering around the house like a lost puppy, lonely and ready for someone to come around and whisk away my empty loneliness.
My parents were gone for five days total, and when they returned everything went back to normal; no more staying up late or whining at the door for someone to come satiate my need for human companionship.
Those five long days ended, but that feeling of endless wandering remained. It wasn't as pronounced but it was always there, nagging at the back of my skull. As I got older the empty house became a metaphor for an empty world, devoid of people. I had Suga who played the part of Mom and Dad, showing up once in a while to soften the loneliness, but for the most part I've remained a lost and forgotten puppy for years.
Until Hinata. He's like the sunshine hiding behind the front door of my empty world, spilling inside as the door cracks open little by little, golden and warm. So warm.
And I feel so stupid, feeling so attached to this guy I've barely gotten to know, but I can't help it. Part of me is just drawn to him like a bee to honey and no matter how much I try I can't stop the buzzing in my chest.
I can't figure out if it's one of my fleeting obsessions, like my love for the way the water reflects the sun at a certain hour of day, or if it's something that's going to stick, but if I'm completely honest with myself I don't think I wantto shake the feeling. I've never wanted a friend this badly.
If five days without my parents was difficult, two weeks without Hinata was agony. We texted a bit, but he seemed busy so I left him alone as best I could, restlessness humming in my bones all the while.
I'm in my apartment, finally getting to the music notes I'd scribbled while walking home with Hinata, cleaning them up and plucking a few test chords on the guitar, when I hear the jingle of keys and his door opening across the hall. My heart speeds up and my fingers slip from the guitar strings.
"Fuck," I spit, setting the guitar down and rubbing my palms across my eyes. I shouldn't be acting like this, it's pathetic. I'm angry at myself and I'm angry at my goddamn heart that won't stop fluttering and my palms that won't stop sweating.
It's not like I can see him now, the guy literally just stepped into his apartment after a long trip. I'd be nothing but a bother. Not to mention I'd look like a clingy pathetic loser, which I don't want to admit no matter how true it is. I have to keep up my hard and cold exterior even though it's slowly crumbling through my fingers with every thought of bouncing orange spikes.
Despite all of that, I can feel my fingertips itching, wanting to grab my phone and ask if he's home, if he's busy, if he had a good time, if he wants to hang out. But I don't. Apparently I still have at least a shred of self control.
Self control that I realize isn't needed when my phone lights up and buzzes on the wooden tabletop. I'd like to say I don't fling myself across the arm of the sofa to grab it and almost topple over the side, but I do. My fingers fly across the screen as I unlock it and open the message.
From: Sugamama
Pepperoni or sausage pizza?
My heart sinks. I should've known it wasn't Hinata as he's probably taking a well needed nap right now. I tap out a quick response, my fingers hitting the screen a little harder than necessary.
To: Sugamama
Pepperoni. And some root beer
I'd like something stronger, maybe a straight shot of vodka to make me chill the hell out, but nothing goes better with pizza than root beer.
From: Sugamama
Breadsticks?
To: Sugamama
That's a stupid question
He knows the pizza night routine. He knows me(better than I know myself, probably). I always end up eating more breadsticks than pizza.
Suga shows up about twenty minutes later, pushing the door open with the familiar rustling of plastic bags, and announcing himself.
"We're heeeere!" He steps into the living room, flashing that familiar starlight smile at me, carrying two pizza boxes and setting them on the coffee table. I start to clear away my music sheets and stray pencils when I notice there's only pizza.
"Where's the breadsticks? And the soda?" I ask, looking around to find the extra box and two liter that obviously isn't there.
"Oh! Daichi has the breadsticks. He forgot the soda in the car and ran back down to grab it," he explains, opening up a box and handing me a greasy slice of our favorite pizza.
"Oh?" I raise my eyebrow as I take the slice from him. He hadn't mentioned bringing Daichi over. Not that I mind, but I haven't actually formally met him yet. They started dating officially about three days ago, and since Suga doesn't have the best relationship with his parents, not unlike myself, we're basically each other's only family so I guess this is his version of bringing his boyfriend home to meet the folks.
"That's okay isn't it?" He asks tentatively, his smile fading a little.
"S'fine," I mumble around a bite of saucy bread and cheese, earning a disapproving glare from Suga. He gets up and makes his way towards the kitchen, returning shortly after with a roll of paper towels from the counter. He rips one off and I swear he considers dabbing the corner of my mouth himself, I can see the thought ghost across his eyes, but he just holds it out to me with a quirk of his lips.
"Knock knock!" The voice that calls out isn't completely unfamiliar but I'm used to hearing it read out my coffee order and tell me how much change I'm due. Daichi pokes his head into the living room, a box of breadsticks in one hand and a plastic bag swinging back and forth from his elbow.
"Daichi don't carry the bag like that you're going to cut off your circulation," Suga coos, standing to take the bag and set the soda on the table with the rest of the food.
"Nah I'm fine," he smiles, giving Suga a look that I can only call "lovey-dovey". Suga returns it, and I just watch from my seat on the couch, chewing slowly. I've heard about the way couples act in the early stages of relationships but I've never actually seen it up close. I'd expect to be uncomfortable but instead I find myself smiling at the silent exchange.
