#you can rip wingman Tanaka from my cold dead hands

[omgitsaddyc]

making playlists and mood boards for the other for asanoya?

anon I could kiss you on the mouth /p this is PERFECT

Practice was finally over for the night, and Noya slowly dragged himself up to the clubroom to grab his stuff, change, and pray his legs didn’t give out while he trudged his way back home for dinner. He hoped they were having that seasoned takeout chicken his mom brought home from the store sometimes. 

Head in the clouds, he dug his earbuds out of his gym bag, and opened his music player to a particular playlist. He couldn’t get creative with the names like some people did, and after today he’d certainly wish he’d titled it something more cryptic. 

Tanaka appeared beside him, peered over his shoulder, and almost spit his water from laughing. 

“Wait, wait. Wait a second there, Noya. What’s that one called?”

He tried to scroll down so the title was out of view, but it was too late. There was no way he hadn’t seen it with how obnoxious the bold, contrasted font was.

Asahi Songs

“It’s- It’s not-” He huffed in defeat. There was no use in lying to Ryū. He’d see right through it. “It’s sorta…for him, but also kinda…about him? I don’t know. It’s nothing serious! Ryū, wait-”

“Nothing serious, huh? Then why are most of these love songs, bud? I knew you had a crush, but this is next-level pining, even for you.”

Noya pouted, and pulled his jacket collar tighter around his face. “Shut it, like you haven’t made a million for Kiyoko.”

Tanaka shoved his phone in Noya’s face with a solemn expression. “Close, only three. Depends on what mood I’m in.” 

That had them both bursting out laughing while Tsukishima and Yamaguchi walked by; keeping their distance and shooting them concerned looks. Asking them if they were okay wouldn’t matter; they never were.

Once recovered, Tanaka clapped Noya on the back with a genuine smile. “Seriously though, man. Think about sending it to him. What could go wrong, he hates it because he’s only into classical music or somethin'? Even if he did straight up hate it, Asahi’s too nice to ever say so. Worst case, nothin’ changes. Give it a shot.”

“Yeah…sure. Okay. I’ll give it a shot.”

Later that night, after dinner, a bath, and trying and failing to focus on his homework, Noya typed out a quick text, added a link, and hit send before he could talk himself out of it. He threw his phone across the room, and buried himself under the blanket on his bed to properly punch his nerves out against his poor, undeserving pillow. He probably wouldn’t even get to it until tomorrow-

He heard his phone ping from somewhere on the other side of the room. Fuck.

Fuck.