Do you? (Kuroo X reader)(Suga X reader)

Chapter eight: Neon lights.

He tapped away tentatively at his laptop keys. Often hovering over them in moments of uncertainty before pressing on again. He'd always been good at studying, in a way it relieved him, of things he didn't want to face just quite yet. The snugness of his hoodie encircling his jaw, hunched over in the corner of the couch gave him a weird sense of comfort. He was just so tired.

He glanced suddenly around the room, pausing when his eyes laid upon your red jacket that had been absently thrown along the chair. It was the one he'd gotten you. The week after a big game, the same game that had left you with a shoulder injury that you'd never quite get rid of. He remembered searching around for something to get you, worried he wouldn't find anything good enough . But then he'd seen it, he remembered running his fingers over the soft fabric, along the metal buttons, engraved with tiny roses.

He found himself smiling, remembering how pleased you'd been to receive it, your face bare, hair in a messy knot, leant gently in your room shrouded by a shoulder brace. You'd looked quite solemn that day , but you'd smiled when he arrived, your bright (e/c) orbs beaming at him.

It was special for him - seeing you wear it.

He was broke from his phase by a heavy knocking at the door. He jumped slightly, raising his eyebrows before placing his laptop down onto the coffee table.

You typically never got visitors, not unless you asked someone over and so this event was particularly baffling. It couldn't have been you, you had a key. He tried not to think too much about it, sliding his hand on the handle, focusing when he slowly opened it.

The sight that lay before him, sent his eyes wide.

There he stood.

His ashy brown eyes rimmed with creases, whispering of exhaustion, only ever boosted by the black bags that hung under his tired gaze. They highlighted his prominent cheek bones, his skin practically stretching over them and the ridge of his jaw. His skin was pale and sickly. His black hair cling to his forehead with damp. Suga almost had to rack his brains, but it was when he spoke. That prominent tone that broke the sheen that had seemingly blinded Suga.

"C-can I come in?," there was uncertainty in the furrow of his brow.

Daichi.

Suga, unable to speak, stunned by this appearance. He stepped aside without a word, as the other boy walked past him, his clothes dripping on the floor. When Suga shut the door he managed to force the words out of his throat.

"W-what are you doing here?," he turned to face his former captain. Why did he look so wrecked? Had something happened?

"I-," he chuckled, though it was flat toned," I got kicked out . Can you believe it?"

Daichi had naturally gotten into college on a sports scholarship. Though his was a little outside Tokyo, a posher place. As a result it meant he needed to find a place, he had rather quickly. And moved him almost instantly after leaving school, as a result no one had really seen him. Only ever seeing the things he and his new friends had posted on social media. Though Suga wouldn't have said he felt bitter... just disappointed.

"N-no," he shook his head, still feeling slightly stunned, "how- Why?"

He leant, lazily against the kitchen counter, his arm tensing as his whole weight seemed to fall against it. His legs bending oddly. And that's when Suga noticed it, the redness that masked his captains eyes, the hurt that sat in them conflicting with his actions that were tinted with anger. Daichi was positively drunk, though his voice was sharp, his body represented that of a puppet, his frame held up by weak string.