Chapter Text
“I need you to date me.”
“The fuck? ”
“You heard me.”
***
Note: Takashi is an OC
“Is this some sort of joke?”
Yahaba has no idea how this happened. When he woke up this morning, the last thing he thought he’d be doing is standing in a dark hallway with his back pressed to the wall, blood rushing in his ears as one of the most terrifying people he’s ever met glares at him with murderous intent.
Yahaba musters up every shred of courage he has. You’re taller than him. You’ve slammed him against a wall. This should be no problem. “Not a joke.”
Yahaba wishes he could laugh it off and run away, but he knows Oikawa would have his ass for that. And if Kyoutani ranks as one of the most terrifying people, Oikawa is the most terrifying person Yahaba has ever encountered. What makes it worse is that the flamboyant setter doesn’t even look the part.
“Haba-chan, if you really want that pile of alien feces to go away, you’re going to have to take things to the next level! And if you don’t, I will have to take things into my own hands.” Yahaba shudders at the memory, deciding that he would rather deal with a scary fake boyfriend than have to deal with Oikawa “taking things into his own hands”.
When Kyoutani’s glare darkens even further, Yahaba resigns himself quietly to his own death. Why did I join the volleyball team; why, oh why?
“Explain.”
Yahaba’s eyes snap up to Kyoutani’s. “Wh-what?” He’s going to hear me out?
Kyoutani growls, and Yahaba’s words fall out of his mouth without any further thought. “It’s not real dating I just need you to pretend to—”
Yahaba hears a noise eerily similar to a snarl and before he knows it Kyoutani’s shadow is gone and Kyoutani is halfway down the hallway.
“Wait! Hear me out!”
Kyoutani just walks faster. Thankfully, Yahaba’s legs are longer. “Hey!”
Kyoutani halts abruptly and turns around, jabbing a finger at Yahaba, who flinches away just in time. “Listen here. I don’t want any part of whatever stupid games you and Oikawa are playin’.”
“How’d you know it was Oik—”
A scoff. “Isn’t it always?”
Yahaba bristles. “No, actually. This is about me . And a certain asshole who won’t leave me alone.”
At this, Kyoutani’s glare dims a little. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t run either, and Yahaba takes that as permission to continue.
“Look, it’s just—there’s this guy who won’t stop hitting on me, even though I’ve told him to stop multiple times…” Yahaba watches Kyoutani’s expression carefully. “And I, uh, actually, Oikawa, thinks that the only way to get him to go away is if I have a boyfriend.”
Kyoutani stares at Yahaba for a few seconds, causing Yahaba to fidget. “Can’t y'just report him?”
Yahaba waves his hands around. “No, no, I don’t want to do anything drastic.”
“This isn’t drastic?” Kyoutani bites out.
Yahaba sighs. “It doesn’t have to be if you would cooperate.” Shit, I didn’t mean it to come out like that--
Kyoutani’s eyes widen a little before they snap back into slits, anger scrunching up Kyoutani’s features. “No thanks.”
“Wait! Sorry, that’s not how I meant to—” Yahaba huffs out another frustrated breath. “Look, please, I’m begging you. I know you don’t like me all that much but this will be temporary.” Yahaba pauses. “Probably.”
Yahaba waits anxiously for an answer, the ridiculousness of the whole situation dawning on him as the seconds tick past. What am I DOING?
“Why me?”
Yahaba freezes. Why Kyoutani? Yahaba isn’t quite sure, to be truthful. He just knows that when Oikawa told him to fake date someone, Kyoutani’s face was the first to pop into his brain. Now that Yahaba thinks about it, why couldn’t he just ask Watari? Watari would have definitely agreed.
“Oi.”
“Uh—” Yahaba grasps for a reasonable explanation. “Oh! ‘Cause, you’re like, scary.” Yahaba you absolute MORON. “Wait! No, I mean—in a good way! In this case. Damn, I suck…”
Kyoutani leans back a little, mulling over Yahaba’s crappy explanation. “'N what do I get out of it?”
Once again, Yahaba is lost for words. “Um…I guess…experience?”
Kyoutani scoffs at that. “ ‘Don’t want your experience. ”
Yahaba scoffs back at him. “ Okay, well then you get to feel like a good person for helping out a teammate.”
Kyoutani tips his head sideways. “Hm…yeah, m' good.” With that, he turns as if to leave again, and Yahaba’s hand darts out of its own accord, latching onto Kyoutani’s arm.
“I’ll pay you 10,000 yen.” I didn’t agree to this, Yahaba’s cheapskate side argues. Why did I say that?
Too late, though, because the offer is out and in the air.
Kyoutani looks shocked for all of one second before the corner of his lips twitch up. Woah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen that, Yahaba marvels. “Deal.”
“I should have known money would be the one thing to motivate you,” Yahaba spits out, words tinged with bitterness directed at himself and something else that he can’t quite pin down.
Kyoutani just shrugs.
“Well I’m not paying you unless you do a good job.”
Kyoutani raises an eyebrow. “ What’s stoppin’ you from saying I did a ‘bad job’ just to keep the money?”
Yahaba sniffs. “I would never do that. I’m still a moral person, Kentarou. ”
Kyoutani stiffens, visibly taken aback by the name.
“What? Now that we’re dating, ‘should be able to call ya that, right?” Yahaba knows he’s being a little shit, but he can’t bring himself to care. If he’s paying for this, he might as well take advantage of it.
Kyoutani opens his mouth, closes it, and opens it again. “Of course, Shigeru. ”
Damn, that is not fair. Yahaba scrunches up his nose, his stomach doing weird flips that Yahaba really did not want to investigate.
Kyoutani notices and almost laughs. Yahaba has the fleeting thought that he would really like to see Kyoutani laugh. “You’re the one who started it, dumbass.”
Yahaba tsks and turns away, already overwhelmed by his own mess. “I—we’ll talk about this more tomorrow. I have to go.”
“Whatever.” With that, Kyoutani is gone, with the only sign he had even been talking to Yahaba being the faint scent of something woodsy in the air. Yahaba sighs deeply, shuffling out of the corridor. Great. I even know how he smells.
***
When Yahaba wakes up the next day, his first thought is, “that was a dream, right?”. There is no way, absolutely no way, that the Kyoutani Kentarou, deity of all things rude and isolation, had agreed to be his fake boyfriend. Yahaba almost laughs aloud as he sits up. His brain sure is a piece of work.
So imagine Yahaba’s surprise when he steps into his first period classroom and sees that Kyoutani, who usually sits in the seat furthest from the teacher and closest to the door, is lounging casually in the seat next to his. Yahaba can practically feel his classmate’s burning gazes on him as he walks cautiously towards Kyoutani, slipping into his seat as quietly as he can.
Kyoutani glances up from his phone and looks at him quietly. “Shigeru.”
Yahaba jolts. “Kyo-Ken- that was real? ”
Kyoutani glares at him. “Y' mean yesterday in the hall? Yeah, jerk, that was real.” Kyoutani narrows his eyes at him. “Thought it wasn’t?”
Yahaba groans and drops his head onto the table. “I hate myself.”
Kyoutani grunts in response. Yahaba doesn’t dare lift his head to see his expression.
“Hey, Yahaba.” Yahaba’s blood runs cold and his muscles stiffen at the same voice that has been bugging him for weeks now. He stays silent, hoping the man will take the hint and leave.
But then again, when has Takashi ever taken a hint?
Yahaba hears Kyoutani shifts in the seat behind him. The chair squeaks, and Yahaba can picture Kyoutani leaning forward.
“Yahaba, come on, talk to me.”
Silence.
“Why are you being like this?”
Yahaba closes his eyes and presses his nose even closer to the cold wood of his desk.
“Come on, Shiger—” An uncontrollable shudder rolls through his back. His name sounds absolutely vile coming from him.
From his left, a deeper voice speaks up. “Don’t call him that.”
Takashi spluttered. “This isn’t any of your business, Kyoutani.”
“It is now.” Yahaba squeezes his eyes shut harder. Make him go away, Kentarou…
“Come on man, when have you even talked to Yahaba? I just want to tell him something, that’s all.”
“He doesn’t wanna hear.” Kyoutani’s voice is pitching lower, and Yahaba reaches out under the table to place his hand on Kyoutani’s knee softly. As he suspected, it had been bouncing up and down uncontrollably.
“He can speak for himself.” Takashi, leave me alone.
“Just go.” Kyoutani growls, clearly ticked off now.
“Alright listen, who the hell do you think you are? I—”
“His boyfriend.”
It’s so silent in the classroom then that Yahaba can hear his own breathing.
Kyoutani continues like he hadn’t just dropped a verbal bomb, and Yahaba is so relieved he could kiss him. “And who the fuck're you?”
“Wh- bu- what? You’re his what?” Takashi splutters. “Yahaba, is it true?”
“‘I look like I would fuckin' lie 'bout that?”
“I want to hear it from him.” Fuck you, Takashi.
Yahaba lifts his head up from the table, slowly. He doesn’t dare look at Kyoutani, and instead turns to the annoying asshole on his right. “Yeah, it’s true.” He reaches over and grabs Kyoutani’s hand. Kyoutani’s hand twitches in his own, but luckily Kyoutani has an impeccable poker face and didn’t even blink. I picked the right guy for this, holy shit.
Yahaba wonders briefly if Kyoutani has done this before, before writing it off with a mental scoff. As if, this is Kyoutani he’s talking about. He doesn’t think Kyoutani has ever looked at someone romantically, much less dated them.
“What the fuck. ” Takashi shifts his weight from foot to foot, face twisting up. “Of course you would get a boyfriend, when you know how much I care about you--”
Yahaba can’t help but snort loudly. “Care about me? What a joke, leave me alone.”
Takashi glares. “Oh you think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you? So much better than me?”
Okay, that one stung a little. Yahaba sneaks a glance at Kyoutani, wondering if he’s thinking the same thing Yahaba is. Kyoutani used to say that a lot.
Kyoutani catches his eye, but Yahaba can’t see anything in those golden eyes.
Meanwhile, Takashi hasn’t slowed down his tirade, much to Yahaba’s unending frustration. “And, of all people, him? ”
What the hell did that mean? Yahaba whips his head to glare at him at this, a burst of protective anger flaring in his chest. “Shut the fuck up.”
Takashi cuts himself off, surprise evident in his eyes. It’s only there for a second though. “Come on, Yahaba, you’re not seriously telling me you’re actually willingly dating this anti-social asshole?”
Yahaba has heard quite enough. “ Shut up. He’s a better boyfriend than you could ever be. And so what if he doesn’t talk to people? Maybe he just knows that they’re all like you. ” Yahaba is full on sneering now, weeks of pent up bitterness spewing out of him.
He completely forgets to look at Kyoutani, who has been silent until now.
Takashi splutters some more before sneering back. “Whatever. I don’t know what I ever saw in you.”
Yahaba snorts. “Good. Someone as screwed up as you would have terrible judgement anyway.”
Takashi reels back, scoffs, and turns on his heel to march out of the classroom. The second Takashi is out of sight, Yahaba relaxes back into his seat.
Then, it hits him.
Oh my God. “He’s a better boyfriend”. Why did I say that? Yahaba lets out a loud groan. You could have said “person”, but no, you had to say boyfriend.
“So. ‘S him.”
Yahaba risks a glance at Kyoutani, whose face is as passively angry as usual. Maybe he missed what I said. “Yeah.”
Kyoutani looks him dead in the eye. “Doesn’t really seem like you need me.”
Yahaba goes red. “Today was different; usually I just-- ignore him, or something…”
The faintest shadows of confusion slip onto Kyoutani’s features, and he tilts his head slightly. “What changed?”
Yahaba really doesn’t want to say it. “I mean, usually he just, like, bothers me. And talks shit about me.”
Kyoutani nods. “And today?”
Yahaba really doesn’t want to say it. “Well, I mean,” he gulps, “he was talking shit about you, so…” His voice starts to trail off at the end, but Kyoutani caught what Yahaba had said anyway.
Yahaba doesn’t get a verbal response. Instead, he gets a cough and a surprisingly shy glance away from him. Yahaba tries to process what he’s seeing. Is he...embarrassed? One glance at Kyoutani’s pink ears answers that for him.
That is so fucking cute oh my god.
Wait.
Kyoutani clears his throat. “Didn’t ask you to do that, dumbass.”
Yahaba suppresses a smile at that response, which is just so Kyoutani. “Where’s the gratitude? Geez.”
He gets a glare at that, and Yahaba leans back in his seat, feeling a little more balanced. This is normal. This, he could handle.
***
It occurs to Yahaba somewhere between the blurry hours of 1AM to 6AM that maybe he has the tiniest crush on Kyoutani.