Full notes in part one.

PART FIVE

It took all of Daiki's nerve to finally knock on Tetsu's door a week after that, because seriously, just looking at it made him think about the last time he'd been here and all the ways it had hammered home just how big a fuck-up he could be. When Kagami opened the door, he instantly regretted it. "Hey," he said, refusing to show awkwardness in the face of the enemy—no, damn it, man up—in the face of Tetsu's boyfriend. "Sorry I'm running late. There was a line at the store."

Mostly because he'd left it to the last minute, absolutely not wanting to be the first person to show up at Tetsu's place for movie night. Sometimes he was stupid, but not that stupid.

"Don't worry about it." Kagami stood aside to let him into the apartment, which smelled amazing, actually, like food that wasn't takeout, what the hell, and was also weirdly empty of people. "Not like there's a schedule."

"No." Daiki let Kagami take the six-pack—what, he was only human—out of his hands so he could exchange his shoes for guest slippers. "Where is everyone?"

"Tetsuya scorched the garlic bread and ran out to get another loaf." Kagami moved into the kitchen as Daiki stripped out of his coat. "He'll be back soon. I guess Kise's boss decided to take a long weekend somewhere warm, and Midorima is doing whatever it is he does when he's not feeling like being social."

"But where's Satsuki?" Daiki said as he hung up his coat and realized that he was currently alone with Tetsu's boyfriend. He promptly reached for his phone to text Satsuki the very same question.

Her reply came back even faster than Kagami's did, so fast that she must have been waiting for him to text her. Rin-chan traded for the night off and we're staying in blinked up at him from his phone as Kagami said, casual, "Oh, I guess she couldn't make it," as he picked up a spoon and stirred something on the stove.

"Oh, fuck me," Daiki said as all the implications of that sank home for him.

Kagami glanced up at him, a half smile kicking up the corner of his mouth. "Think you're gonna want to wait for Tetsuya to get back for that one."

The response exploded out of Daiki before he could even think about it, because seriously, like hell was he gonna stand there and let that fucking asshole laugh at him. "Fuck you," he said, grabbing for his coat with hands shaking with his fury. "Fuck you, fuck you so much, you son of a bitch—"

"Aw, Jesus." Kagami dropped his spoon and took the two long steps away from the stove to where Daiki was struggling with his coat and everything else, shame and rage and the sick realization that Kagami knew, which was somehow the worst part of all, and if Kagami knew, then—Kagami caught Daiki's shoulder. "Hang on, calm down, I didn't mean anything by that—"

It was somehow far less gratifying than Daiki had thought it would be to finally throw a punch at Kagami's stupid face, possibly because Kagami staggered back a step and didn't actually let go of him. "Okay," he said, making a face as Daiki's brain finally caught up with his instincts and said, horrified, You just punched Tetsu's boyfriend. "Okay, you got that out of your system now?"

"Shit," Daiki said, staring at him, still stuck on the fact that he'd punched Tetsu's boyfriend. Tetsu was never going to speak to him again. "Oh, shit."

Kagami gripped his shoulder more tightly. "Yeah, okay, come on, sit down. Breathe, that'll help." He dragged Daiki over to the table and pressed him down into one of the chairs. "Come on, take a deep breath for me, you don't want to pass out, do you? Of course you don't, that'd just be stupid, right? Yeah, good, now take another for me—"

"You don't have to tell me how to fucking breathe," Daiki snapped.

"Not any more," Kagami agreed, straightening up and dropping himself in the chair next to Daiki's. "Was touch and go there for a minute."

Daiki dropped his face into his hands and just groaned. "I hate you so fucking much."

"Do you really?" He couldn't see Kagami's face, but his voice—he sounded like he was genuinely curious. Daiki couldn't help the sound he made, sheer disbelief that Kagami could honestly be for real. "I've been wondering about that, to be honest."

Daiki lifted his face from his hands, and yeah, Kagami looked just as—big and dumb and honestly curious as he'd sounded. "Why?"

Kagami shrugged. "I figured you did at first. Then you warmed up, and then you got really weird, and just now you punched me." He rubbed his jaw. "Mixed signals all over the place."

So he was an amateur psychologist, too. Great. Daiki looked away from him, at the stack of plates and silverware waiting at the corner of the table, ready to be set out for a meal. "Fucked if I know what I think of you," he said. "Be easiest if I could just go ahead and hate you."

"Yeah," Kagami said, bizarrely good-natured about it. "That's what I thought for a while, too."

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" Daiki asked, wary of everything that was coming out of Kagami's mouth at this point.

Kagami blinked at him like it was supposed to have been self-evident. "I figured that it'd be easier to just hate you for a while," he said, clarifying some things and rendering others more confusing. "I mean, honestly. You make everything a lot more complicated." When Daiki stared at him, baffled, he grimaced again and shook his head. "Crap. Okay. Sorry. I'm doing this all backwards." He sat up straighter and said, very solemn and grave, "You and me, we need to talk."

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuckety fuck. Daiki tried to think, to cudgel his brain into finding some way to escape this conversation, or failing that, find some way of persuading Kagami that really, his being around Tetsu was innocent. Honorable, anyway. Whatever Kagami needed to hear to keep him from telling Daiki to back off. But his brain was still stuck on the fact that he'd punched Tetsu's boyfriend, so all he could come up with was, "I don't see why."

"Knowing you has made so many things make more sense," Kagami said, apparently not particularly moved by this response. "So many things, you have no idea." He snorted. "None of you do, far as I can tell."

Daiki left off trying to find a way to escape the conversation in order to give Kagami a suspicious look. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Kagami rolled his eyes. "What do you think it means?" He gestured, waving a broad hand through the air. "Some of the stuff Tetsuya does. The group of you. All the history you guys have together. The way you people act doesn't even make sense sometimes until after a guy's had a chance to see you together as a group. " He shrugged. "It all makes a lot more sense now that I've met you."

Nope, Daiki did not want to sit here any more or listen to Kagami talking about Tetsu, and Tetsu and his histories, or any of that. "Okay, I'm done." He pushed his chair back from the table.

"You still love him, don't you?" Kagami asked, straight to the point. Daiki froze, too alarmed to react any other way, and Kagami studied him. He nodded. "Yeah, I thought so. I wasn't sure at first, what with the stories Momoi told about you, you and Kise, but yeah. You really do, don't you?"

"I should have punched you harder," Daiki said, still frozen in his seat. He couldn't tell where Kagami was going with this, not when Kagami said those things so calmly. Casually, like he was discussing the fucking weather and not Daiki's feelings for Tetsu.

The bastard just laughed. "You punched plenty hard enough, thanks." He rubbed his jaw again, probing it gently. "Trust me on that one." He dropped his hand, resting it against the table, and looked at Daiki. "So, do you?"

Daiki looked away from him, studying the pictures Tetsu had hanging on his refrigerator, scribbles in crayon that probably represented some ankle-biter's finest artistic endeavors. Anything was better than looking at Kagami and his steady eyes. "What does it even matter?"

Kagami didn't respond right away, not until Daiki snuck an unwilling peek at him. He was frowning a little, the corners of his mouth tucked down. "It matters," he said. "I don't know what I'm gonna say next until you tell me what's going on with you and Tetsuya."

Oh, fuck, no. No. "Nothing," Daiki said instantly, in the faint, futile hope that he might somehow be able to salvage this yet. "There's not anything, we're just friends, I promise—please, you have to believe me, I wouldn't—I would never—he's with you, I know that—"

Kagami blinked and shook his head, looking a little stunned by the onslaught of Daiki's denials. "No," he said, slow, like he was trying to be careful. "No, I know that. Just tell me, for Chrissakes—do you love him or not?"

"I won't do anything about it," Daiki said, panic clawing the inside of his ribcage, since he couldn't tell whether Kagami was buying it or not. "I swear, I won't—I won't try anything, I just want to stay his friend. Please." He was on the verge of begging and the worst part was that he wasn't even ashamed of it. "Please, I promise—please, let me have that much."

Kagami's eyes went wider and wider the faster Daiki babbled, until he looked stunned. "Jesus," he said after a moment, when Daiki was fighting to get a decent breath and trying not to be terrified that he was going to lose Tetsu again. "Jesus, Aomine. Is that all you really want?"

"It's enough." Daiki tucked his hands under his elbows and looked down, away from him. "I can make it be enough." His throat felt tight, just saying it. "It's better than not having Tetsu around at all." That much he could say with absolute authority.

"Jesus," Kagami said again, quietly. "You poor bastard. You're twenty kinds of fucked up, aren't you?"

Daiki was already hanging onto his elbows; that was good. It kept him from launching another swing at Kagami for the edge of pity in his tone. "Fuck you," he snarled. "Fuck you, I'm just fine, I don't want your pity—" He stopped himself, even though the anger felt better than the sick feeling in his gut, and forced himself to take a breath and look Kagami in the eye again. "If you're going to tell me to stop hanging around Tetsu, then just do it and get it the fuck over with."

Kagami looked at him and said, "I'm not going to do that."

Daiki couldn't decide whether he believed that. "No?"

Kagami shook his head. "No." He laughed then, short and rueful. "For one thing, that's not my call, is it? I mean, Tetsuya's the one who gets to decide who his friends are, right? I'm his boyfriend, not his keeper."

Daiki tried to make that make sense—well, okay, he supposed that there was a point there, Tetsu was definitely the one who ought to get to decide who he wanted his friends to be, but even so, surely there were some lines that shouldn't be crossed. Being friends with the ex-boyfriend who was still—still hung up on him, that had to be one of those lines. But Kagami was smiling just a bit, like he really meant that, so—"What the fuck did you want to talk about, then?" Was the bastard just dredging all this up for his own amusement?

Kagami drummed his fingers against the table, screwing up his face as he thought. "Tetsuya gets to decide who his friends are," he said once more, for effect or emphasis or something. Then he switched gears abruptly. "My dad worked in the States for about a decade when I was growing up," he said, which wasn't news—Daiki already knew that—and had nothing to do with anything as far as Daiki could see. "We lived on the west coast while he did. L.A. San Francisco."

He said it like it was supposed to mean something to Daiki. "So the fuck what?"

Kagami sighed like a man tested to the limits of his patience. "So I'm saying that maybe I don't see these things the way most people do." He squinted at Daiki and seemed to give up on trying to be subtle, or whatever it was he thought he was doing. "If Tetsuya wants you to be his other boyfriend, okay. I'm cool with that."

"What?" Daiki said, blank, because he had to have missed something in there that would have made that make sense. "What the fuck?"

Kagami rolled his eyes to the ceiling, toward the heavens, like he was asking for just a little more patience or something. "I can't use smaller words than that," he said when he looked down again. "I'm trying to tell you that I don't mind you being my boyfriend's other boyfriend." He made a face. "I wasn't too sure about you at first, but you grow on a person, kind of like a fungus or something."

Daiki let the insult pass by, too stunned to get properly exercised about it. "You're—you're not serious," he said. "You can't be, you wouldn't—is this supposed to be some kind of joke?" Because if it was—if it was, he could already feel the first stirrings of absolute fury at the thought that Kagami might be toying with him, and the next time, he was going to fucking break the bastard's jaw.

The smile left Kagami's face. "No joke," he said. "I mean it. If Tetsuya and you want to try and work something out and give it a second shot..." He shrugged. "Okay by me. All I wanted was to make sure you could own up to caring while you were sober, too. The rest of it is up to the two of you."

Daiki focused on the one point of that he could actually comprehend. "What do you mean, while I'm sober, too?"

Kagami gave him a very kind, patient sort of look, like one did with particularly stupid children. "The very first time we met, you remember that? And how you got blind, stinking drunk?" He paused to let that sink in. "You're a chatty drunk."

"Oh, fuck," Daiki said, thinking about sliding under the table and hiding there, or reaching for one of the butter knives and stabbing himself, or something—because all he really remembered about that night was that he had gotten drunk. "Oh, no." What had he said, fuck.

Kagami smiled, small and a little evil. "It was an illuminating evening," he said. "I thought Tetsuya was crazy at first, but like I said, it makes more sense now." He settled back in his chair, like he'd said all he wanted to say. "It's not like the two of you need my permission, exactly, but if you want to try, that's okay by me. Or not, if you don't."

"How?" Daiki said, dazed with embarrassment and disbelief and—no, no, he wasn't going to hope, he wasn't going to let himself want, he'd never survive the disappointment. "How could you possibly be okay with that?"

Kagami got serious again. "Because it's Tetsuya," he said. "He never lets go of what he loves. Not ever." His smile then was something different, something tender, something Daiki had seen before, the night of that awful dinner party. "And I know he loves me. Just like he loves you." He shrugged again, comfortable with the impossibilities spilling out of his mouth. "The rest is just logistics."

"You must be crazy," Daiki said helplessly. "Completely crazy. You can't know—why would Tetsu want—he's already got you. Why would he possibly have anything to do with me after—after—fuck." He scrubbed his hands over his face.

Kagami's voice was kind again as he said, "That's something you'll have to ask him, not me." The table shook as he pushed his chair back. He was standing when Daiki looked. "Which is my cue, I guess." He dropped a hand on Daiki's shoulder, squeezing it briefly as he went past, and—

Tetsu was leaning in the doorway of the kitchen, a bag in his hand, until Kagami stopped and stooped to kiss him, resting his hand on Tetsu's hip as he did and Tetsu lifting his free hand to hook around the back of Kagami's neck. "Let me know," Kagami said when he lifted his mouth away from Tetsu's.

Tetsu smiled up at him and said, "Of course."

Daiki watched the performance in a numb kind of horror, because—how long had Tetsu been standing there?

Kagami went on out; after a moment, Daiki heard the bang of the front door closing as Tetsu came into the kitchen and dropped the bag on the counter. He leaned over the stove to turn down the heat, then looked at Daiki and smiled, small and quiet.

"How long were you there?" Daiki asked, nausea churning his gut.

"Long enough." Tetsu came away from the stove and took Kagami's abandoned seat. He rested his gaze on Daiki, clear and calm. "Not entirely fair of me, I know. But I needed to hear."

Hear what? Not that it mattered. "You could have just asked."

Tetsu looked at him. "I wasn't sure whether you would answer," he said. "And there were things Taiga needed to be sure of himself." He paused and added, "From now on, I'll just ask."

What else could he possibly need to know? They'd already had everything from him, one way or another.

Daiki nodded anyway and looked down, studying the grain of the table so he wouldn't have to see Tetsu watching him, until Tetsu said, quietly, "Daiki, do you have anything you want to ask me?"

Daiki flinched in spite of himself, wincing back from the absolute gentleness of Tetsu's tone and the question itself. "No," he said, tightening his hands on his elbows. "No, I'm—I'm fine."

Tetsu was silent and for a moment, the only sound was the low bubbling of whatever was on the stove, until Tetsu said, voice sharp, "I trust that you don't actually expect me to believe that." Daiki jerked his head up—no, Tetsu did look irritated now. "I know better," Tetsu continued, glaring at him. "You know better. Talk to me."

"I—" Daiki swallowed hard. "I don't—what am I supposed to say?" What could he possibly say to Tetsu after all that he'd done?

Tetsu pressed his lips together, flat and frustrated. "Tell me what you want," he said—ordered.

Daiki hunched his shoulders against that, against the uncertainty of—everything. "Whatever—whatever you want," he said, groping for the right way to say it. "That's—whatever you like. That's fine by me." Whatever would let him salvage something of them.

They weren't the right words; Tetsu gripped the bridge of his nose and sighed. "That's not what you want," he said. "That's what you're willing to settle for." He lowered his hand and fixed an intent look on Daiki, one that stilled the breath in Daiki's throat. "Now. Tell me what you want."

"You," Daiki said, helpless before that. "You, like we used to be, before I fucked it up—however I can have you. I don't care. If I can just be close to you, that's. That's more than I deserve, I know."

The irritation melted out of Tetsu's eyes. "That's better," he said. "Don't try to tell me what you think I want to hear. That won't work. It can't work."

Daiki nodded, guilty. "Sorry," he said. "I'm sorry."

"It's all right," Tetsu said, gentler now. "This kind of thing... never was your strongest suit. Maybe that's why it went so wrong back then. This time, too, maybe." He sighed again while Daiki tried to figure out what that meant. "What are we going to do with you?"

"I have no idea," Daiki confessed, since hell, it wasn't like he had anything left to hold back anymore. "I'm so confused."

"I know." There was the faintest, rueful edge to that. "That part is... very clear. I'm sorry. I'd hoped it would be as obvious for you as it was for us. I should have known better."

Daiki dropped his gaze to the table again at the reminder that Tetsu and Kagami were in this—whatever the fuck it was—together. "I don't understand what you're trying to do."

"I suppose I'm trying to create a chance for you and me to try again." Tetsu's voice was quiet and steady—steady like he meant every word of what he was saying. "Only this time we'd be older, perhaps a little wiser, and might be able to get it right."

"You're with him now," Daiki said, not daring to look up—not yet. If he looked up, Tetsu would be able to see his face. Tetsu had always been good at reading his expressions. Too good. "How can you—how can we—when there's him?"

"I would like to have you both," Tetsu said. He paused, reflecting on that perhaps. "I always have been greedy." There was the tiniest hint of laughter threading through those words. "It wouldn't be the same as before," he added, sober again. "I hope that this time, it might be better."

"You want both of us?" Tetsu had to be—but he sounded so serious. Daiki risked a look at him, and yes, he looked as serious as he sounded, as serious as he'd ever been.

"I do." Tetsu smiled at him then, small and wry. "But I have to tell you, it was Taiga's idea to try. In case you were wondering." Daiki felt his jaw drop, but couldn't quite bring himself to care. "I know. I was surprised, too." His expression changed, turning almost—wistful. "But I like the idea very much. As he said—I don't let go very easily."

That wasn't all that Kagami had said. Daiki reeled back, rocked by that implicit admission. Tetsu couldn't possibly mean—

"I wasn't sure you'd be interested, even," Tetsu continued on, more briskly. "When we talked, you were very careful with the things you said. And there were the things Satsuki-san said about the ways you passed your spare time, and Kise—well. It was difficult to say, really. And even once I thought that perhaps you hadn't let go either—" He lifted his hands, holding them open and empty. "It isn't a very normal kind of arrangement, is it?" Tetsu stopped then and looked at Daiki, eyes calm and dark. "So. Would you like to try?"

"I told you," Daiki said, barely able to find the air to give the words voice—that had to be why they sounded so breathless in his own ears. "I told you. I want—however I can have you. However you'll let me." However impossible that might be.

Tetsu relaxed, so subtly that Daiki barely saw it. "All right," he said, smiling, and reached out for Daiki to rest his hand on Daiki's elbow. "Good. I'm glad. Thank you, Daiki."

He had to laugh, he had to, because—"You're thanking me?" he said, shaky. "Really, Tetsu? Really?"

Tetsu frowned and didn't answer—he moved instead, slipping to his feet and stepping forward, and all of a sudden, Daiki's vision was full of the soft blue of Tetsu's shirt as Tetsu wrapped his arms around Daiki's shoulders, pulling Daiki against him. He slid his fingers around Daiki's head, cradling it against his chest and stroking his hair. "It's all right," he said while Daiki inhaled sharply and got a lungful of air that smelled of Tetsu's laundry detergent and the warm scent of his skin beneath that. "It's all right, Daiki. I have you now. I'm not going to let go of you again."

Daiki shuddered, trying to get a breath of air, trying to somehow deal with the things Tetsu was saying—no, promising, when Tetsu adopted that particular tone, it was always a promise. He couldn't quite manage it, not when Tetsu was promising him impossible things, things that couldn't possibly be—"I'm going to fuck up again," he gasped against Tetsu's chest. "You have to know I'm going to, this is me we're talking about, I mean, I just punched Kagami for fuck's sake, you can't say that—you can't say you won't let go—"

"I'm not going to let go of you," Tetsu said, steadfast. "If we fuck up, then we'll figure out how to fix it. And I already know you punched Taiga, I heard you mention it before." He stroked his fingers through Daiki's hair steadily. "I promise. I'm not going to change my mind now that I have you again. We're going to make this work."

Another shudder shook Daiki. "Tetsu," he said, hoarse, wanting that more than he knew how to put into words and hardly daring to believe that he might get it.

Tetsu tightened his arms around Daiki. "We're going to make it work this time," he said quietly, absolutely determined. "I'm not going to give up again. Not if you don't. Okay?"

Daiki closed his eyes and slowly uncurled his arms from around himself, turning in his chair a little, just enough to be able to raise his arms and wrap them around Tetsu's waist. "Okay," he whispered into Tetsu's shirt. "I'll do—anything. Anything at all. I promise."

"I know I can count on you," Tetsu said, and only held him closer when the sureness of that made Daiki shake. He curled his fingers around Daiki's nape, holding him gently. "Shh. I have you, Daiki. I have you now. It's going to be all right."

Daiki pressed his forehead against Tetsu's chest and exhaled raggedly. "Want you to be right," he said, muffled by his shirt. "I want—I would give anything—to make sure that you're right."

"I am, love," Tetsu said, soft and sure and oh—oh.

Daiki lifted his face out of Tetsu's shirt and looked up at him, incredulous, only to find that Tetsu was smiling down at him, quiet and certain. "Tetsu," he said, shaken to the core. "Tetsu, I—" He stopped, unable to go on.

Tetsu only cupped his hand around Daiki's cheek and stroked his thumb against his cheekbone. "I know," he said. "I know." He bent down and pressed his mouth against Daiki's, soft and sure. He didn't seem to mind the way Daiki clutched at him, hanging onto him, desperately afraid to let go and discover that none of this was real, and only tightened his hold on Daiki in return.

Daiki woke slowly, consciousness filtering back to him by gradual degrees—cool air on the bits of his skin that were not safely tucked into the warm nest of blankets, the comfortable embrace of the mattress and pillows, dim grey light outside his eyelids and the quiet hiss of rain against glass. He rolled over and burrowed closer to Tetsu, wrapping an arm around him and tucking his face against Tetsu's shoulder, sighing with barely conscious contentment. Tetsu made a sleepy noise back at him, but let him press his nose against the warm curve where Tetsu's neck and shoulder met. Daiki smiled and stayed there, half-dozing and soaking in the contentment of that, resisting the faint niggling sense that something was peculiar about this situation. Everything was fine. It sounded like a cold, wet morning, perfect for sleeping late, and it wasn't like there was work to worry about. Tetsu was right there, curled up against Daiki, so nothing could be all that wrong—

Tetsu was curled up with him?

Daiki stumbled against that thought, the conviction that there was something not-quite-right about it sending him lurching the rest of the way awake. Tetsu couldn't be in his bed, that wasn't possible, they weren't—but there Tetsu was, tucked against him, hair rumpled into a crazy mess, and this wasn't Daiki's bed after all. It was Tetsu's bed, where he'd brought Daiki after a long evening of talking, of figuring out—figuring out how to make this work, him and Tetsu, Tetsu and Kagami—Tetsu's bed, where Daiki had lain awake for a long time, sure that if he fell asleep, he'd wake up in his own bed, alone again.

And yet he hadn't. Tetsu was right there, breathing soft and deep, reassuringly solid beneath Daiki's hand when he curled it around Tetsu's hip.

Daiki had no idea how long he lay perfectly still, watching Tetsu and hardly daring to believe even now that this was real, that he had honestly gotten this lucky twice over, but eventually Tetsu said, not opening his eyes, "You're staring, Daiki." His voice was still fuzzy with sleep, but his eyes were clear enough when he opened them.

"Yeah," Daiki said. What else was he going to do, pretend he wasn't? "Guess so."

Tetsu's mouth quirked just a bit. He flailed a hand free of the sheets and blankets to curve it around Daiki's cheek. He didn't say anything else, but his hand was warm against Daiki's cheek—against his lips when Daiki turned his face to nuzzle Tetsu's palm and kiss his fingertips, one by one. Maybe he was waiting for Tetsu to stop him or pull him up short, tell him no or we can't, but Tetsu didn't, not even when Daiki kissed the inside of his wrist, too, flicking his tongue against the skin there. He didn't stop Daiki, so Daiki kept going, following the tender skin up the inside of Tetsu's forearm and tasting the crease of his elbow and the smooth skin along his shoulder. By that time Tetsu's breath was beginning to come faster in his throat, soft and light as Daiki pressed his lips against Tetsu's collarbone, tracing the fine sweep of it, relearning its shape with lips and tongue. Tetsu leaned his head back when Daiki kissed his throat and gasped when Daiki mouthed the tendon that ran down the side of it, just like he always did.

And he still hadn't told Daiki to stop.

Tetsu's skin was warm under his fingers as he spread them against Tetsu's chest—warm the way he only ever was when they were curled together in bed, when Tetsu could steal all the blankets and leech the heat right out of Daiki to make up for the way his own body ran cool. But he still felt the same, deceptively slim, and Daiki still knew the best places to touch him, the places that made Tetsu gasp as the color began to spread up his throat, the right places to put his mouth to draw soft sounds from between Tetsu's parted lips. Daiki filled the hollow of Tetsu's throat with his tongue and trailed his mouth down Tetsu's breastbone, fanned his fingers over Tetsu's ribs and fitted his palms over Tetsu's hips, listening to the sounds Tetsu made and watching the shapes Tetsu's mouth formed as he sighed, and waited for Tetsu to stop him when he slid his fingertips under the waistband of Tetsu's shorts. But Tetsu only lifted his hips a little, letting Daiki slide them down, and when Daiki finally managed to tear his eyes away from the sight of Tetsu all bare and hard, he saw that Tetsu was smiling at him.

Daiki's hands shook when he set them on Tetsu's hips again, smooth under his palms, and he had to take a breath to steady himself when Tetsu spread his knees wider, making room for Daiki to settle between them, and another before he could bend his head over Tetsu and stroke his mouth over the head of his cock. Tetsu gasped again, soft and open, leaning his head back against his pillow and closing his eyes when Daiki wrapped his mouth around him, slipping his tongue over and around the soft, hot skin of him, tasting him salt and flat in his mouth as he sucked. Tetsu was breathing harder now, taking breaths that made his chest heave as Daiki lowered his head over him, taking him in. He groaned when Daiki let his mouth turn harder, groaned outright, husky with pleasure.

Daiki kept going, sliding his mouth down, swallowing Tetsu and making a satisfied sound at the feeling of Tetsu's cock on his tongue. Tetsu groaned again, his name, and rocked his hips against Daiki's hands. Daiki groaned too, then, and let Tetsu do it, let him roll his hips up and fuck his mouth as he stroked his fingers over Tetsu's stomach and hips and thighs, watching Tetsu abandon himself to this moment and listening to the way Tetsu gasped his name over and over, until the syllables of it bled together into a jumble of incoherent sounds as Tetsu flexed against him, shaking as pleasure caught up with him and swept him down under its wave.

Daiki groaned just from watching him and lapped at him until Tetsu stilled again. It dazed him, the fact that Tetsu had permitted this from him, had even welcomed it. Then Tetsu opened his eyes, still flushed pink and nearly glowing with satisfaction, and smiled at him. "Daiki," he said, reaching down to him.

Daiki swallowed hard and went to him, letting Tetsu draw him back up the bed and down to him, and opened his mouth to Tetsu's when Tetsu cupped a hand around his nape and kissed him. Tetsu rubbed his fingers against Daiki's hairline, slow and cool, and licked his way into Daiki's mouth until Daiki shuddered and closed his eyes and whispered, begging, "Tetsu, please..."

Tetsu squeezed his nape. "Shh," he said. "I have you." He set his other hand against Daiki's chest, pressing it flat and pushing until Daiki rolled onto his back and lay against the sheets, tension suddenly singing through him, counterpoint to his hunger for Tetsu, for anything—anything at all—that Tetsu was willing to let him have.

"Shh," Tetsu said again, leaning over him to press another kiss against Daiki's mouth, soothing some of the edge of that tension away again—no, he wasn't done with Daiki, not yet, okay, good.

Daiki lifted a hand and stroked it against Tetsu's shoulder, following the shapes of the muscles beneath Tetsu's skin, holding onto that as Tetsu kissed him again and again, at least until it dawned on him that Tetsu was reaching for something, rattling the things sitting on his nightstand.

"What...?" he said, breathless, against Tetsu's mouth.

Tetsu smiled at him and ran his hands down Daiki's chest, down to his shorts, and drew them down, pushing them down Daiki's legs until Daiki could kick them the rest of the way off, and then—Daiki's breath caught in his throat as Tetsu moved to kneel right over his hips and smile down at him again, soft and full of Tetsu's silent version of bright laughter, until Tetsu bent down to kiss him again.

Daiki couldn't help the sound he made against Tetsu's mouth or the way his hips rolled up, seeking heat and friction and something, anything, to relieve the aching hardness of his cock, but Tetsu said, "Wait," against his mouth. Daiki shuddered and tried to still himself again. He did fairly well until he heard the click of a cap and Tetsu shifted over him, making a quiet sound against Daiki's mouth. He broke away from Tetsu's slow, insistent kisses and saw that Tetsu had an arm twisted behind himself and a little furrow of concentration drawn between his eyebrows, and groaned breathlessly when he realized what that meant. "Fuck, Tetsu," he said, shuddering on the edge of coming just from that. "Holy fuck."

"That is the general idea," Tetsu said, a breathless hitch in his voice and his eyes gleaming beneath the sweep of his lashes. He ducked his head again to kiss Daiki, slow and hungry, like he wanted to devour Daiki and taste the very heart of him.

Daiki closed his eyes and offered everything he had up to the quiet demand of Tetsu's mouth as Tetsu reached for him, smoothing a condom over him, fingers cool against the fever heat of Daiki's skin. "Please," he whispered, hoarse against Tetsu's mouth. "Please, Tetsu, I want—I want—"

"You have it," Tetsu said, very sure. "I promise."

Daiki had to set his teeth against his lip then, because Tetsu was lifting himself up and settling over him, around him, working himself down onto Daiki's cock with slow, rocking shifts of his hips, his expression gone half-abstracted with concentration and his lips parted for the barely voiced sounds he made, until Daiki was inside him, seated deep and panting with the tightness of it and the way Tetsu looked, spread across his hips over him. "Tetsu," he gasped, shaking with the effort of not moving, not driving his hips up against Tetsu.

Tetsu opened his eyes again and looked down at him, smiling. "Yes," he said and began to move, fucking himself against Daiki, slow and hard, and oh, Daiki remembered this, remembered how Tetsu liked to feel the sharpest edge of things, had liked to ride him and work himself open on Daiki's cock while Daiki held onto his hips and watched him move. This time Tetsu caught his hands and laced their fingers together, gripping his hands and rocking himself up and down, never once looking away from Daiki as he did. "Yes," he murmured over and over, while Daiki groaned with each shift of Tetsu's hips. "Yes, Daiki. Yes, I have you, I won't let you go, never again—"

Daiki came undone, bucking against Tetsu and crying out with the surety of that, the promise of it closing around him and sweeping away the last vestiges of his self-control. He lost himself in the rush of pleasure as it raked him open, merciless, and left him stunned and helpless in its wake, trembling as Tetsu released his hand and reached down to finish himself off. Daiki groaned when the quick, sure movements of Tetsu's fingers against himself made him arch over Daiki and his body seized even tighter around Daiki, shaking him with another rush of pleasure. When Tetsu relaxed again, sprawling against Daiki's chest and breathing hard, the words came easily, the most natural thing in the world. "I never stopped loving you."

Tetsu lifted his head and smiled at him. "I know," he said softly. He kissed Daiki again, lingering against his mouth. "Neither did I." He stroked his fingers along Daiki's jaw, gentle with him. "This time, we'll do better."

Daiki swallowed hard and wrapped his arms around Tetsu, pulling him close. "Yes," he said, finally letting himself begin to believe that. "Yes, we will."

Satsuki must not have had any idea what to expect from him first thing Monday morning, because when Daiki sat down at his desk, there was already a large coffee, doctored precisely to his tastes, steaming gently next to a breakfast sandwich, and Satsuki herself was poised at her own desk, eyeing him from behind a concealing veil of hair.

Huh.

Daiki unwrapped the sandwich and dug in silently as he booted up his computer, getting down to business without any more fanfare than that, more out of curiosity about what Satsuki would do next than because he was inclined to be grouchy—very grouchy, anyway, since it wasn't like Satsuki hadn't been maneuvering him for his own good for almost as long as he could remember.

He got through his breakfast and his coffee and his email without interruption, Satsuki an increasingly loudly silent presence the next desk over, and launched right into the Miyamoto case without pause. He worked right up until the point Imayoshi-keishi wandered past, stopped at his and Satsuki's desks, and squinted down at them. "Okay," he said, genial enough, "both of you, Interrogation Three, and don't come back until you have it sorted out. And stop bringing your personal lives to the office, it's annoying." He pointed in the general direction of Interrogation Three. "Now scoot."

That put the kibosh on waiting Satsuki out, so Daiki put the Miyamoto files down and shrugged at Imayoshi-keishi, who looked entirely unimpressed by that, and headed over to Interrogation Three with Satsuki. He perched himself on one of the chairs in the observation room, balancing on the back of it and ignoring the way that made Satsuki grimace, and said, "So, hey, you and Rin-chan have a nice evening in?"

"Yes, actually," Satsuki said, right before she narrowed her eyes at him. She planted herself in front of him, folded her arms across her chest, and stared at him like he was some kind of bug beneath a microscope. "You didn't," she said after several seconds of severe scrutiny. "Dai-chan, tell me you didn't—how could you?" She seized his shoulders and shook him, honestly, genuinely as angry as Daiki had ever seen her. "How could you, what about Kagamin, you know better than this, you—you—"

Daiki caught her wrists before she could knock him off his seat. "It was Kagami's idea," he said, which stopped her mid-sputter. "That's how." Which meant he owed that guy—an awful lot. More than he had any idea how to repay, but that was a problem to solve later, assuming that Tetsu was right and this really was gonna work. (Please, that Tetsu was right, and this was gonna work.) "Give me some credit, would you?"

Satsuki's stare went wide with disbelief. "What?" she said. "What? You're—are you—Dai-chan, so help me, if you're lying to me—"

"Fuck's sake, Satsuki," Daiki said, annoyed. "Do you honestly think I'd lie about anything to do with Tetsu?"

She blinked several times and broke out of his grip so she could sit down. She looked up at him, and he'd never seen her at such a loss. "No," she said, "no, you wouldn't—" Satsuki worried her lip between her teeth, gone silent. "Did—did Kagamin step aside?" she asked after a moment, with a vague gesture to illustrate the point. "For you and Tetsu-kun?"

"No," Daiki said, leaning forward to balance his elbows on his knees and let his hands dangle between them.

Satsuki frowned then, worry sweeping down to replace her confusion. "I don't think this is the way to get over Tetsu-kun—"

"It's not that, either," Daiki said, taking pity on her. "It's—we're trying something else. Tetsu and me, and Tetsu and him."

Satsuki looked up at him, a carefully blank look smoothing out her expression. "You and Tetsu-kun and Kagamin," she said slowly. "How's that supposed to work?"

"I dunno," Daiki said, since she deserved honesty from him. "We're going to figure it out as we go."

Satsuki pressed her lips together at that. "And this. Is this what you want, Dai-chan?"

He thought about it, not least because it was Satsuki and she had stood in for his common sense more times than he could count. But—no. Even if she thought it was a bad idea—"Yeah. Yeah, it is. I do."

"But what about—" Satsuki stopped and chewed on her lip some more, her eyes guarded and unsure as she looked at him. "This—do you think you're going to be happy like this? Sharing him with Kagamin?"

"Yeah," Daiki said. "I really do." He glanced aside. "Already am. Happier than I've been in—well. Since school." Since Tetsu had left, trying to get him to decide what he really wanted. What was really important.

He heard her sigh. "I hope you boys know what it is you're doing."

Daiki couldn't help his laugh. "Tetsu seems to. That's good enough for me."

"That's what worries me," she said. She stayed quiet for a moment longer. "Okay. If you're sure. Just—be careful, Dai-chan. Please."

Daiki grinned down at her. "This is me we're talking about."

"Yes," she said. Her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. "I know." Then she clapped her hands together. "Come on, there's work to do."

"Yep," Daiki said. "Always is." He hopped down from his chair and dropped an arm around her, and kissed the top of her head before she could get to the door. "Don't worry," he said against the flower-sweet scent of her hair. "It's going to be fine, you'll see."

"I hope so," she said quietly. "I really hope so."

With Satsuki at least provisionally in his corner, even if she did have her misgivings, it would have been easiest to just proceed without giving a damn what anyone else might think. Daiki couldn't deny that there was at least a small part of him tempted to do exactly that. But he couldn't. Not quite.

When he called, Kise agreed to meet him with distressing alacrity, though some of that faded when Daiki set the meeting for a little dive bar he knew, one where a person had to be bleeding out on the floor before any of the other patrons would be bothered to pay attention to something other than their drinks. He showed up looking determinedly cheerful, nose and ears pink with the cold, and Daiki was pretty sure that he already had an idea about what kind of talk this was going to be before he ever slid into the booth across from Daiki.

"So how's it going?" Kise asked him when they'd exchanged greetings and complaints about the cold and their jobs. He toyed with his bottle of beer as he asked, sliding it back and forth in its puddle of condensation.

"Good," Daiki said. "Really good." There was nothing for it but to dive right in. "There's something I have to tell you—"

Kise looked up, fast, his smile too bright. "You and Kurokocchi figured something out," he said. "Didn't you?"

Daiki stared at him, off-balance. "Yeah, that—we did. How did you—"

Kise laughed, the sound of it brittle. "Didn't I tell you? I know what you look like when you're happy." He sobered and looked down, his smile slipping a bit. "It's all over your face right now. I saw it when I walked in."

"Oh," Daiki said. "Oh. I'm—sorry." And he really was, for the way Kise's eyes looked just then and the way he gripped his beer and for the fact that there wasn't anything he could do to fix it.

"Yeah, well." Kise smiled again, tired around the edges. "Guess I should have seen it coming. Kurokocchi is—when there's something he wants, well." He shrugged. "It's only a matter of time, right? Especially when you want what he wants, too."

"I'm sorry," Daiki said again, not knowing what else he could possibly say.

"...me too." Kise looked away, his shoulders slumping. After a moment he cleared his throat. "I guess I have some news, too. They offered me a promotion at work. I'm going to take it, since the timing's... the timing's pretty convenient."

"Congratulations," Daiki said, uncertain, wondering what Kise hadn't said yet. "That's—great. Isn't it?"

"Thanks. It is." At least this time Kise's smile looked a little more genuine. "Thing is, it means I'll be... gone for a while." And there it was, that was the other shoe dropping. "About a year, all told. Training, you know? I wasn't sure about that when they offered it, but—" He took a drink. "Seems like a pretty good idea now, don't you think?"

"Maybe," Daiki said, "if you're sure that's—what you want."

"I think it is," Kise said. "I think I need some space. To clear my head. You know?"

Daiki reached across the table and gripped his hand. "Don't clear it too much," he said. "Don't do like me. We're still your friends. And if things were different, I—"

"But they aren't different." Kise quietly slid his hand out of Daiki's and smiled again. "So what can you do? I'm glad for you, I really am. But—I can't be around you guys right now, you understand? I just—I can't." He took a final drink of his beer and set it down. "I'll be back when I can again."

Daiki looked at him and the bleak determination under the edge of his smile and nodded. "All right," he said. "Take care of yourself till then. And stay in touch. With Satsuki, if nothing else." Satsuki wouldn't let him drift too far away from them.

"Sure," Kise said, his smile tilted like he knew exactly what Daiki meant by invoking Satsuki. He stood. "Goodbye, Aomine."

Daiki looked up at him and refused to accept that. "I'll see you around," he said firmly.

Kise huffed just a bit. "I guess," he said, dipping his chin at Daiki, and went.

Daiki stayed where he was a while longer, finishing his beer and thinking about all the ways things could have gone, all the things he could have done differently if he'd been someone else. If there hadn't been Tetsu. But he wasn't anyone else, and there was Tetsu, and that's all there was to it. And—he checked the time—Tetsu was waiting, so Daiki left those thoughts where they were and went to go meet him.

But I swear by this song
And all that I have done wrong
I will make it all up to thee.

-end-

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