It all started with a TikTok. That stupid, stupid TikTok.

You were curled up on the couch one lazy evening, scrolling aimlessly through your feed when it came up: the infamous “Honey Packet Challenge.” A couple giggled through mouthfuls of honey and vanilla ice cream, making faces at the camera before abruptly cutting off with that knowing look—like something had happened off-screen. The comments were chaos. The tags were worse.

You blinked, tilted your head, and muttered, “No way that actually works.”

Ten minutes later, you’d already texted Tooru Oikawa. The childhood best friend. The one with the annoying smirk, endless teasing, and legs for days. Also—the only person dumb enough to do this with you.

You: “Come over. We’re doing the honey thing.” Oikawa: “…I don’t like where this is going.” You: “Ice cream and gossip included.” Oikawa: “I’ll be there in ten.”

⸻

By the time Oikawa arrived, you’d set the table like you were hosting a romantic dinner for two—except it was just three honey packets each, a tub of ice cream, and absolutely no self-control.

“Why are you looking at me like this is a trap?” Oikawa asked, raising a suspicious brow.

You handed him a spoon. “Because it is. Now shut up and suffer with me.”

First honey packet? Kind of delicious. The cold vanilla soothed the sickly sweetness. Second one? Still good, but cloying. Oikawa started whining dramatically halfway through it.

“This is ridiculous,” Oikawa said around a mouthful, “my dentist is gonna kill me.”

“You don’t even go to the dentist,” you snorted.

By the third one, both of you were sugar-drunk and stretched out across the couch, gossiping about everything—exes, volleyball drama, that one time in middle school when he accidentally texted his crush a Shrek meme. Laughter filled the room like a fizzy soda about to spill over.

And then… it hit.

There was a pause in the conversation.

A long, hotpause.

You blinked. He blinked.

^Your skin suddenly felt too tight. The air? Too thick. His collarbone? Unfairly exposed.*

“I think my soul is trying to exit my body through my pants,” Oikawa said, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.