Chapter Text
“Their living conditions are deplorable,” Keiji says after taking a sip of tea. Koutarou sits on the floor across from Keiji and glances at the undecorated walls and the spider in the corner of Keiji’s cold, studio apartment. He decides not to comment on the irony.
“Hey, they’re my neighbors,” Koutarou says instead.
“Even your gay crackhouse is better than their place.” Keiji shifts on the ground, pulling a blanket over his lap.
Koutarou tugs at the corner of the blanket, so they can share it. “How much better?”
“The almost-ten-year-old sleeps on newspapers.”
“Are you fuckin’ serious? Hinata?”
“Yes, Hinata.”
Before Koutarou can do a spit-take, Keiji presses his hand to Koutarou’s mouth and shakes his head as if to say, “If you dirty my floor after I just cleaned, I’m gonna cry, kill you, and cry again.”
“Eh, I did that when I was seven. We have our ups and downs.”
Keiji shakes his head. “You need to see it.”
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿ Four Hours Earlier ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
“Hey, lab partner.” Standing in the doorframe, Kuroo flashes a wide grin at Keiji.
Keiji gives a weak wave, trying not to stare at the discolored wood panels caving in at the front of the house. He opens up the small gate, thinking it’s useless because he could easily jump over it, and he walks toward Kuroo, who makes his way inside the house and gestures for Keiji to follow.
The house smells like blood, alcohol, and shit when Keiji first steps in. Kuroo notices Keiji’s grimace. “Don’t mind the stench. It’s not so strong when you’re away from Nekomata.”
“Nekomata?”
Kuroo looks back to the right of the entrance. There’s a drooling old man in shit-stained underwear, passed out on the floor with a brown paper bag in his hand.
Keiji looks at the man, then at Kuroo, forgetting to hide his shock for a second.
“It’s okay, you can judge him. We do too.”
“We? You have sibli—” Before Keiji can ask, he’s face down against the wooden floor, and he thinks he sees a rat out of the corner of his eye.
“Hey, watch it!” A high-pitched voice yells.
Tiny hands grab at Keiji’s legs and push him away.
“I have brothers. You just tripped over Hinata. Always a good idea to look down in this house,” Kuroo smiles with schadenfreude.
Keiji begins to get up, and he sees a young boy near his feet, lying on a bed of newspapers.
“I was taking a nap, man!” Hinata pouts, grabbing a news sheet and pulling it over himself.
“On the floor in the dead of winter? Aren't you cold?” Keiji asks with concern.
“Aren't you sticking your nose in other people’s shit?” Hinata closes his eyes in an attempt to rest.
“Who taught you to say shit?” Kuroo scolds Hinata. “Akaashi, let’s go to the dining table.”
“Why is there a child sleeping on the floor, if you don’t mind me asking?” Keiji asks quietly.
“Punishment for not pulling his weight. Hinata needs to get a job before Nekomata over there puts him on a street corner and gives one to him,” Kuroo speaks loudly, ensuring Hinata hears. “You have six more days before you’re ten, kid!”
Too stunned to respond, Keiji sits beside Kuroo at the dining table and pulls paper out of his backpack to write their lab report.
And just when Kuroo begins to refresh Keiji’s memory of the procedure, the back door busts open by a burly-looking teenager. And another one.
“Who’s that?” The first one asks. He drops a bag of groceries on the stove, leans against the kitchen counter, and gives Keiji a smile that’s mildly more comforting than Kuroo’s trademarked grin.
“My lab partner. We were doing school shit, which you’ve so rudely interrupted,” Kuroo clucks his tongue in disapproval, but the sound is overshadowed by the second teenager who just walked in.
“Hi, lab partner,” he bats his eyes and seems to forget to close his mouth after he speaks. He looks just like the other kid, except his hair is blond instead of grey, and his bangs fall to the left instead of the right.
If Keiji is being honest, the way this kid is looking at him scares the shit out of him. And he gives an obligatory, “Um, hi, uh,”
“Atsumu,” the blond one smiles, “and the ugly one is Osamu,” he gestures to his twin brother.
“Shut up, cocksucker,” Osamu pushes Atsumu.
“No, you shut up, you cumguzzler!” Atsumu shoves back.
“Yeah? Well, at least I get paid to do it!”
“Pay no mind to them,” Kuroo waves his hand in dismissal as the twins shove each other out into the dining room and their curses become background noise.
“Are there more?”
“Last brother is at work being a productive member of society. Let’s talk chemistry,” Kuroo grins, picking up Keiji’s pencil.
Keiji nods and decides it’s probably best not to ask more questions, but he sees loose pills on the table, and he can’t help but stare.
“Oh, sorry about those,” Kuroo notices and puts them in his pocket, “Nekomata, y’know?” He shrugs as justification.
Keiji nods and pulls up the specifics of the assignment on his phone. Just when he thinks they’re about to get their work done, he hears creaking, and the ceiling starts to leak.
“Atsumu! What did I tell you about using the sink without putting the bucket down here?!” Kuroo yells. He looks at Keiji. “You sure we can’t do this at your place next time?”
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“There were opiates on the table, Bokuto-san, and he just shoved them into his pocket. And they have rats, and it smelled like… you don’t want to know, and apparently one of them is a prostitute.”
Koutarou smiles from behind his cup of tea. “Which one?”
“Osamu.”
“Oh, maybe that’s why I saw him with Issei the other day.”
“Issei is a hooker?”
“Nah, but he and Takahiro got into a fight about being in an open relationship, something like that, so he was looking for someone to fuck.”
✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿ Yesterday ✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿
Osamu follows Issei up to his bedroom. “You sure you wanna do this?”
“You sure you wanna do this?” Issei opens the door for Osamu.
“Not unless you promise your boyfriend won’t kill me,” Osamu deadpans.
“I guess I can promise that.”
“You guess?” Osamu furrows his brows in concern.
“Yep,” Issei laughs, and Osamu gets on his knees.
“Pay me.”
After Issei slaps some bills into Osamu’s hand, Osamu gropes at Issei’s jeans.
“Hey, careful there, the safety isn’t on.”
“Huh?” Osamu looks up at him.
Issei pulls his gun out and sets it on the end table. “Did you think that was my dick?”
The answer is yes, so Osamu answers with a blank stare, secretly hoping today isn’t the day he dies giving head in a house that his shoes stick to the floor.
“You’re a terrible hooker.”
“Not a hooker.” This time, Osamu grabs Issei’s actual dick.
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Koutarou smiles a bit wickedly, thinking about it. “It didn’t go well. Takahiro stole all Issei’s cash and broke up with him three times. Anyway, what are you gonna do? You gonna invite Kuroo to your humble abode next week?”
“No.”
“Just gonna keep calling me over to complain?”
Keiji nods, drinking his tea.
“I’ve always liked Kuroo. I think it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to invite him over.”
“Nobody knows I live alone except you, and I want to keep it that way.”
“You worried the government’s gonna find out your family’s dead?”
“Yes,” Keiji says quietly.
“I won’t tell,” Koutarou winks behind his teacup.
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The final bell rings, and Keiji stands up at his desk to pack up his books and pens. He’s placing his last pencil in his pouch when he hears words that terrify him.
“Hey, lab partner.” The voice is familiar, but it isn’t Kuroo’s.
Keiji slowly looks up as he zips up his backpack. It’s only the blond twin from yesterday. Keiji breathes a sigh of relief and relaxes his posture.
“Hi, Atsumu.”
Atsumu smiles bright and skips over to Keiji, soon following him right back out the door. “You know, I never got your actual name.”
“Akaashi Keiji. Why are you here?”
“Because I need your help, Akaashi Keiji,” Atsumu says, 100% certain Keiji will help him.
“I have work in an hour,” Keiji continues leading Atsumu through the halls to the school’s exit.
“How long does it take you to get there?”
“40 minutes,” Keiji says. He starts to wonder why he’s telling Atsumu this, but he decides Atsumu is trustworthy, so he’ll continue the conversation.
“Your work got a bathroom?”
“What about it?”
“Well,” Atsumu throws his arm around Keiji’s shoulder, “I have a big favor to ask.”
Keiji looks at Atsumu to prompt him to continue.
“Can you pay me to blow you?”
Keiji doesn’t know whether he should stop walking, run as far as possible, speak, or stay silent.
“I know it sounds weird, okay, but you saw how Osamu was talking down to me yesterday! And I just wanna tell him, ‘guess what, bitch? I got paid to suck cock today!’ Y’know?”
“Can’t you do this with literally anyone else?” Keiji sighs, still walking down the street.
“I want my first time to be special — not with some 50-year-old man, you get me?”
“I really don’t.”
“Yeah, you do. You’re a virgin, aren’t you?”
Keiji makes no effort to hide his discomfort, giving Atsumu that slack-jaw, eyes-wide-open look.
“I knew it. So, what’s the problem?”
“I don’t have money,” Keiji lists one of many problems.
“How about I lend you ¥1000, and you pay me with that?”
“You’re serious?” Keiji isn’t sure if he’s more appalled that Atsumu’s rate is only ¥1000, or that Atsumu’s logic is so flawed even Koutarou would notice.
Atsumu nods yes.
“Again, can’t you do this with literally anyone else?”
“Nah, I already decided I wanna be your first body.”
“Blowjobs don’t count.”
“Guess we’ll have to do the whole nine yards.”
“I just met you yesterday,” Keiji sighs.
“So what? I’ve sucked off guys five minutes after meeting them?”
Keiji frowns. “Are you clean?”
“Yep, got tested a few days ago and haven’t had sex since then.”
Keiji has to be honest with himself. Atsumu’s interest doesn’t make much sense to him, but he kind of likes human touch, and it’s nice having Atsumu’s arm around him. “Okay, you can blow me, I guess, but nothing more than that.”
“Kiss?”
“Not in public.”
“Fine, treat me like some cheap whore,” Atsumu sighs dramatically.
“You’re the one who picked your ¥1000 rate.”
“Is it supposed to be higher?” Atsumu follows Keiji along the sidewalk.
“I would go with ¥4000 for a 15-minute blowjob and ¥3500 for a handy.”
“Isn’t that too expensive for a handjob?”
“You know how the medium soda is ¥400, and the large is ¥500? It’s like that.”
“Damn, you’re smart. Is that how you ended up doing chemistry with Kuroo?”
“We were just doing chemistry club work. I’m a first-year.”
“Me too,” Atsumu smiles at Keiji, and unlike his brothers’ smiles, it isn’t unsettling. In fact, Keiji’s feels warmer — mostly because he’s blushing, but his heart feels warm too. It beats a bit faster than he thinks it should, but he’s alright with that for now.