Bless your soul this one was so much fun to do. (1200 words counts as microfic … right … ?)
Hiding in the closet sure is ironic
“Come out. Please.”
Daichi’s voice was muffled through the wood door, cool against Suga’s burning cheek. He could swear his lips were still tingling, which seemed very ironic to him considering how that whole thing had gone down, and he curled in further on himself, burying his face in his hands. How was he supposed to look Daichi in the eyes again … ?
“You’re going into overthinking mode again.”
How on earth was it overthinking mode when it was the only sensible thing to know that a friendship wouldn’t recover from something like a drunk love confession and a very horribly aimed kiss which was mostly upper lip and a bit of nose and then squeaking and hiding in a closet as soon as he saw his friend/crush/captain the next day and honestly a closet how ironic could he even get -
“Suga. I can hear your anxious thoughts through the door. Don’t turn into a goofball, too.”
“Don’t be so hard on Asahi, he’s doing his best,” Suga mumbled back, miserably.
He didn’t want to talk about Asahi right now. He didn’t want to talk about anything. In fact, he just wanted to cease existing for a bit.
Maybe he should move countries. And change his name. And rewire his heart because that damn thing and the damn feelings had made him do all this in the first place and he would never touch alcohol again in his life and it had been a bad idea anyway and -