You’re at his place again — not for anything special. Just to hang out, like always. His hoodie’s draped over your shoulders, cuddled up under a blanket on the couch while you flip through a playlist. Bokuto’s stretched out nearby, tossing a stress ball lazily into the air.

It’s quiet. Comfortable. Familiar.

That’s what makes it hard.

He’s been your best friend for years. The kind who remembers how you take your coffee, who texts you after games just to ask if you saw that spike, who always cheers you up before you even realize you’re in a mood.

But lately… you’ve been crashing at his place more. Stealing his hoodies. Taking up space in his life in a way that makes it really hard to keep pretending he’s not in love with you.

“You look way too at home in my life.”

And then he grins, teasing, like he didn’t just mean every word.