It wasn’t that their relationship wasn’t going well—it was, surprisingly so. They had always been close, so transitioning from friends to something more had been natural. Easy. Smooth. So why, for the love of all that was holy, did Nishinoya insist on shaking things up?

Asahi had always known Nishinoya to be relentless—on the court, in conversation, in practically everything he set his mind to. It was one of the things he loved about him. But this? This was bordering on a full-fledged campaign.

It had started innocently enough—just a few offhand comments, a teasing smirk here and there, casual mentions that Asahi had brushed aside with awkward laughter. But as Valentine's Day approached, Nishinoya had taken it upon himself to crank things up a notch.

Love was in the air, after all. Asahi had received chocolates, flowers, sweet notes tucked into his bag between classes—thoughtful gestures that should have left him feeling warm and appreciated. And they did, to an extent. But always, lurking in the back of his mind, was that conversation. The one Nishinoya kept reviving with the persistence of a man trying to push a boulder uphill.

Sex.

Asahi could hardly think the word without breaking into a sweat. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to—Nishinoya was gorgeous, full of life, and absolutely intoxicating in a way Asahi couldn’t quite put into words. But the problem, the real problem, was that no matter how much he tried to ignore it, one glaring fact remained: the size difference.

Nishinoya was small. Compact, lean, and built for speed. Asahi, on the other hand, was... not. He towered over him, broad and heavy, and no matter how much he reminded himself that Nishinoya could take a hit on the court like nobody’s business, the idea of accidentally crushing him in the heat of the moment was an ever-present fear.

And so, here he was, in active preparation for war.

Because if he knew Nishinoya—and he did—he knew that tonight, at some point, he'd bring it up again.