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Suga was a burrowing creature.
This, Daichi learned on their first sleepover. Suga insisted that it be at his place, and when Daichi first stepped into his bedroom he was almost caved in with all of the blankets and pillows. Come morning, he figured Suga had already gone down stairs to start breakfast before his mother informed him that Suga was buried beneath those layers and layers of blankets and pillows. When Daichi finally clawed his way through, Suga’s cheeks were bright red and his eyes were blinking against the sudden sunlight.
Daichi didn’t even say good morning, just, “Aren’t you hot in there?”
“Yes,” Suga said quite simply. His shirt, indeed, was sticking to his chest and when he wiped away the hair from his eyes it stayed plastered to his forehead. He shrugged. “But I like the feeling.”
Daichi then noticed all of Suga’s large hoodies, the hood usually thrown over his head and zipped up right to his lips. He’d usually slap Daichi with a sleeve to get his attention, mindlessly continuing the action as they spoke. He could tell Suga’s obvious discomfort when their first volleyball uniforms arrived, tugging at the bottom of his shirt to stretch it lower and popping the collar up to try and nibble on the edge.
Daichi had to practically beg the coach to let him do it, but eventually he was able to swap his and Suga’s uniform shirts, and Daichi had never seen such a happy face on someone swimming in material. Daichi had to tuck his new shirt into his shorts to avoid it riding up too far, but it was a small price.
He quickly stopped trying to question some of Suga’s requests, finding it easier to understand it makes Suga happy rather than anything else. He doesn’t really know why Suga finds comfort folding up into small spaces to study, but Daichi accommodates, or as much as his large body will allow him to. He even doesn’t mind it most of the time, liking the secrecy it brings as they press their knees against each other, finding themselves whispering their school notes. Suga’s mother never seemed surprised to find them huddled into Suga’s cupboard, leaving perfectly sliced fruit on the desk for when they emerged.
The rest of the volleyball team quickly learn not to think too much of some of Suga’s unusual preferences. They know everything about Suga is soft, a gentle breeze and hardly-there touches, something like a whisper between leaves. It’s all they need to know, and are all too happy to dump their sports bag onto Suga’s lap when he offers.
It takes them some time to learn how to talk to Suga, Daichi having to stand by most times to remind Suga to “Start from the start, they don’t know what you’re talking about.” They will have to wait a minute for Suga to backtrack, to find the beginning that will make sense to other people not living in his head, but Daichi’s team are fast learners, and it’s not long until he hears the phrase, Suga, context, echoing throughout the gym.
It becomes routine, then, to stay back at the gym even after everything has apparently been packed away. It felt unfair to leave Suga alone in the supply cupboard, sorting and straightening all of the equipment, no matter how many times he told them to go. They all sat on the floor chatting while Suga made everything face forward, a satisfied smile on his face when he finished.
“Everything has to be in an order,” Suga explained when Daichi finally asked one night, the team trailing behind them tiredly. Suga held his pork bun in both hands, keeping it close to his face so he could blow on it. “Especially after all the chaos of practice.”
Daichi took a bite of his own pork bun, a frown creasing his brows. “I don’t get how those two are connected.”
“Ah.” Suga shakes his right hand, as if trying to shake the answer out of his fingertips, every now and then clicking his fingers. “Volleyball training is chaotic, lot’s of stuff going on. I don’t mind it so much. Just, afterwards, I need something to get me back into focus.”
There are many things that are chaotic, Daichi comes to realise. Public transport is chaotic, too noisy and crowded so that Daichi doesn’t mind when Suga puts on his noise-cancelling headphones and naps on his way to places.
Going out with more than two people is chaotic, Suga automatically taking on the role of worried parent so that he’s the one reassured about what they’re doing.
Exam period is chaotic, too chaotic for Suga to even verbalise. Daichi has to play a guessing game the first time, talking to Suga through a gap in his bundles of blankets, but they soon develop a way to communicate this, too.
“Tap my hand twice for yes,” Daichi tells him the second time Suga shuts off, “And once for no.”
Daichi dreaded their final year. He could already see the stress on Suga’s face, nails scratching down his cheeks, and the increased flinching every time a volleyball smacked onto the linoleum floor.
They had to study in open spaces now, too big to fit in Suga’s cupboard, but Suga always chose the most secluded corner of the library. He still whispered aloud his notes, Daichi there to remind him to stick to the main topics and not meander off on interesting details.
Daichi was also there to just sit silently with his friend, sometimes shrouded under a thick duvet, Suga tapping away on the top of Daichi’s hand. There was always a pattern to it, like most of what Suga did, not that Daichi could quite tell what the pattern was.
“Morse code,” Suga replied when Daichi finally asked, because Suga would only ever answer if he were asked.
“That’s not fair.” Daichi grinned in the darkness of the blanket cave. “I can’t tell what you’re saying. I like to think I’m an expert on that.”
Suga laughed, a delicate chime in the otherwise silent space, ringing in Daichi’s ears long after it had sung its song.
“You’re definitely one of the better ones,” Suga humored him, but then his hands stilled. “Thank you, for that.”
“For what?”
“For always trying to understand what I’m saying.” The walls of the cave shifted as Suga shrugged, folding his body further into itself as he tried to make himself smaller. “There are – were, a lot of people who never bothered.”
Daichi coughed into the crook of his elbow, rubbing the back of his neck as he stuttered, “Er, well, I could hardly – It’d be hard to be your friend if I couldn’t talk to you. You know?”
Daichi felt a weight on his knees, a pointed chin jiggling as Suga’s jaw moved. “I know. I also speak Daichi, you know.”
“Sure, sure,” Daichi mumbled.
“Translation: I’m super embarrassed by this sudden emotional conversation, and I’m not very good at hiding it.”
Daichi could practically see the know-it-all grin spread on Suga’s face, so often had it made its home there, that he couldn’t help but laugh.
“Usually, if someone is embarrassed, you do the respectful thing and not point it out.”
Suga hummed. “Usually. But I’m about to exacerbate the embarrassment, so I needed to point it out to get it out of the way.”
“Oh no,” Daichi groaned.
“It’s nothing too bad.” Suga paused. “I don’t think. I’m not a good judge of these things.”
“I know,” Daichi said. “Let’s end this, then.”
“Will you… Can you… Um.” Suga huffed, a hot breath shooting over Daichi’s hands.
“Take your time,” he said patiently.
“Will you lie on top of me?” Suga asked. “I just – I need compression. Uh.”
But Daichi was already shifting, sitting up on his knees and hovering over Suga. He pushed Suga back gently until he was lying on his back before settling himself over Suga’s slender frame, trying to position himself in the most innocent way possible.
“Mm,” Suga hummed. “Definitely a weird thing to ask.”
“It’s been a long time,” Daichi said as he gently lowered himself, “Since I’ve thought anything you have said to be weird.” His head rested in the crook of Suga’s neck, their torsos pressed together that Daichi thought their ribs would entangle with each inhale. “You sure I’m not crushing you, though?”
“No,” Suga said. “Yes. Wait. You are not crushing me, Daichi.”
Daichi let himself relax a little, putting more weight onto Suga’s body. Suga sighed deeply, arms tentatively circling around to hold Daichi’s back, hands barely touching the surface of his shirt.
“This is good,” Suga said meekly, and Daichi could feel the heat of Suga’s cheeks against his forehead. “Ah, thank you.”
“Whatever you need, Suga,” Daichi murmured against his neck, not for the last time falling asleep on top of his best friend.
When they finally kiss, Suga is made entirely of giggles, hands fluttering up and down Daichi’s body like restless butterflies. He kept ducking his head, laughing into his chest, but Daichi didn’t mind, just ran his fingers through Suga’s hair and laughed with him. It didn’t surprise Daichi when Suga nuzzled in closer, molding his body into Daichi’s and burrowing, Daichi zipping up his jacket to encase Suga inside and keep him nestled there.
Suga was a burrowing creature. This, Daichi didn’t mind.