You're the only one I ever believed in

The answer that could never be found

The moment you decided to let love in

Now I'm banging on the door of an angel

The end of fear is where we begin

The moment we decided to let love in

-Goo Goo Dolls

Love is a plague. It's a curse, a disease, and I am so infected. It's in my bones, taking over my limbs until I have to force my arm not to reach out and caress soft pale skin. It's in my brain, jumbling up my thoughts and making me imagine things I don't want to admit. It's on my tongue, pushing against the backs of my teeth and trying to force out words I want so badly to say. It's even in my blood, carrying these feelings through my veins and beating in each chamber of my heart, so strong I can feel every cell as the sickness spreads. My body is consumed and so far I haven't found a cure.

But today it's in a new place. A more...primal place, as Hinata steps out from behind a curtain in Oikawa's mother's boutique. Excitement radiates off his face as he spins around, showing off the dark waistcoat and black suit pants he was given to try on. It took Oikawa's mom, Mrs. Aya she had asked us to call her, over an hour to find slacks small enough for Hinata, but she somehow found a pair that fit perfectly. Maybe a little too perfectly, as the twinge deep in my gut would suggest.

"Oh that looks lovely sweetheart," Mrs. Aya gushes as she comes around the corner, clothes piled high on one arm. Hinata spins again as she pulls at his sleeves and adjusts the buttons on his waistcoat, giggling when she smiles and pats his cheek. "I knew we had something around here that would work. And I won't even have to hem them!"

Something bumps my shoulder, pulling my eyes begrudgingly away from Hinata's exposed collarbones under the undone top buttons of his dress shirt to find Oikawa's smirking face inches from my own. "Might want to make sure your slacks are pretty tight before the wedding," he winks, "you don't want to show off just how much you like Hinata's outfit to the whole reception."

My face flares up immediately and I drop my eyes down to my lap where I definitely do not have a boner (even though I do admit that Hinata looks really really good in that waistcoat). "I don't know what you're talking about," I growl.

"You're practically salivating," he continues, dropping down onto the plush chair beside me. " I didn't know you have a suit kink."

"Oikawa I swear to-,"

"Boooooys," Mrs. Aya calls, causing both of our heads to snap up in answer. "You're friend is trying to talk to you." She has one perfect blonde eyebrow raised in the exact way her son always does, and that knowing look in her eyes that I've grown used to seeing on the face of anyone who's spent more than five minutes in a room with me.

"How do I look?" Hinata signs, showing off his now buttoned shirt and the bow tie he's added to the ensemble. I can feel Oikawa eyeing me from the side as I let my gaze linger.

"It looks great," he chimes, taking a step forward before my silence can start to turn awkward. "Let me just fix something really quick." Oikawa starts to unbutton Hinata's sleeves, fiddling with them until they're folded perfectly up to his elbows, and I start to believe that God is real.

"There you go. Perfect," Oikawa proclaims, spinning Hinata around to face me, winking at me from behind his head. My urge to punch Oikawa in his smug face is only eclipsed by the sheer beauty standing before me.

"You, uh, you look really good," I mumble, pulling at the collar of my shirt and trying to look anywhere except Hinata's lightly blushing face but unable to tear my gaze away.

Good? No. Good is nowhere near the right word. But neither is something like gorgeous, cute, or tantalizing. He is radiant, and I am but a small bird in his garden of sunlight.

"Here honey," Mrs. Aya smiles, handing Hinata a garment bag, "hang everything back up and put it in here so you can take it with you."

He takes the bag, nodding and glancing back at me with those big brown eyes before slipping back into the dressing room. "Where'd Suga go?" I ask, either trying to change the subject or to distract myself I'm unsure.

"Oh he's still trying some things on," Mrs. Aya answers, smiling at me sweetly. "He took at least a dozen suits in the dressing room with him. I think he's still trying to choose between a black or a white jacket, the poor thing." She presses one palm to her heart, pouting out her bottom lip at the thought.

Suga has been a bundle of nerves ever since a few nights after he and Daichi announced the wedding. Apparently Daichi had called his parents to let them know when and where the ceremony would be, and his mother had mentioned being excited to finally meet Suga's parents. He told me during last week's pizza night that he had almost sent them an invitation, overcome with guilt that he wasn't going to tell his own parents he was getting married, which is utter bullshit. He agreed with me when I told him that, but he's still been a bit on edge. I swear his innate need to make sure everyone is happy at all times is going to be the end of him.

To avoid the "curse" or whatever it is of seeing each other's suits before the wedding, they decided to come to the boutique on different days. Today Oikawa, Hinata and I came with Suga, and tomorrow Daichi will come in with Bokuto, Kuroo, Kenma, and Natsu. I should probably apologize to Mrs. Aya in advance for whatever happens while they're here.

"I'm going to go check on him," I say, turning away from Oikawa and his mom and striding over to the set of dressing rooms on the other side of the boutique where Suga is.

I knock lightly on the side of the dressing room, barely loud enough to be heard over the frantic rustling behind the curtain. "You okay in there?"

The curtain flies open and Suga's flushed face appears in front of me. "Oh thank goodness," he sighs, grabbing my arm and pulling me over to his pile of haphazard clothes. "I can't decide on a suit color. Could you help me out?"

"Suga I-,"

"This white one is nice but I think the lapels are a bit too thick, and I like this black one but it makes me look too pale. Then there's this navy blue one and dark gray one but they seem more like business suits than wedding attire." He speaks a mile a minute, gesturing wildly at jackets he pulls from the pile, holding them out for me to examine.

"Suga you're asking the absolute worst person on this," I interject before he can take a breath and launch into another spiel about slacks or something. "I can't even tell the difference between the blue and black one honestly."

"Oh my god I'm so sorry. I totally forgot," he cries, dropping his head in his hands with a defeated sort of huff. "I don't know what's gotten into me."

"You're too worked up about everything," I say, sitting the jackets back on top of his pile as neatly as I can, hoping Mrs. Aya won't come over and see the mess. "You've got to calm down a little bit. Everything's going to be fine."

"I guess," he sighs, running his slender fingers through his starlight hair. "I think I'm just really nervous about Daichi's parents liking me."

"You've already met them and they loved you."

"Yeah but," he looks up at me, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as tears start to form on his bottom lashes. "What if they stop liking me? I mean, my own parents don't even like me, why would they want someone like that for their son?"

I'm taken aback for a moment, wondering if he's being serious or if this is some elaborate joke. "Suga you're a goddamned idiot."

"What?"

"If you think that your parents' bullshit opinions of you have anything to do with how much other people love you then you're an idiot." He seems surprised, his eyes wide and his unshed tears hanging precariously on his lashes. I wonder if my words are too harsh, but I don't stop. "People aren't going to judge you on the opinions of others, Suga. They're going to love you for you. For sweet, selfless you. And if they don't, then fuck them. You've got Daichi, you've got me, Oikawa, and everyone else, and that's what matters."

"Kageyama I-,"

"I like this one the best, by the way," I interject, holding up a white suit jacket with black lapels, cutting him off before he can make this conversation sappier than I already have.

"Me too," he smiles, taking it from me and pulling me into a quick hug. He doesn't say anything, just gives me a soft squeeze before letting go, his familiar heartbeat against my shoulder speaking for him. "Want to help me hang all of this back up? Mrs. Aya is going to have my head."

Between keeping Suga from having a meltdown at any given moment, keeping Dumb and Dumber from causing too much mayhem, and Hinata wearing the most attractive outfit ever put together, I think this wedding is going to be one of the most stressful days of my life.

***

After hours of setting up vases of white lilies on tables and calling the caterer a dozen times, protecting the cake from Bokuto and setting up rows upon rows of chairs, all while keeping my mind focused away from size extra small waistcoats, I finally catch a moment to sit down. It's in one of the side rooms of the event hall we rented for the day, where Suga stands in front of a mirror adjusting the rose pinned to his lapel for the fiftieth time.

"How does it look?" He turns to me, sticking both arms out and turning slightly to each side. The white and black jacket we picked out was a really great choice, not too bright yet perfect for his pale complexion.

"Straighter than you," I smirk, earning a mock smile from Suga.

"Very funny," he sneers, with an undertone of amusement. "Have you seen Daichi?"

"Yeah he was out front last time I saw him. Waiting for his parents I think." I lean back in the chair and yawn, exhausted even though the ceremony hasn't even started yet.

There's a soft knock at the door, and Suga goes to open it, stopping only when a voice comes from the other side. "Babe? You in there?"

"Daichi? What are you doing?" He puts one hand against the door, leaning in so he can hear through the wood. "Aren't you supposed to be getting ready to go on?"

"I wanted to see you before it starts," he answers, earning a soft smile from Suga that he can't see.

"Nope. It's bad luck. You'll see me at the altar."

"That's only when a bride is involved," he counters, making an excellent point. "I don't even believe in superstitions! Come on, babe. Let me in."

"You believed in them last week when you wouldn't let us go to the boutique at the same time," Suga laughs, leaning his forehead against the doorframe.

"I'll let you see mine too. It's a win win situation."

"Nice try sweetheart, but I have some patience. It's not gonna happen." I can see it on Suga's face, and hear it in Daichi's voice; the amount of love that is shared between them is infectious. It makes my heart swell a bit, just seeing what kind of life exists for people who love each other so much. I want to believe that something similar could be in store for me, just waiting to be set in motion.

"Alright fine," Daichi huffs, his voice getting a little huskier and harder to hear through the door. "But what if I let you-,"

"Daichi," Suga interrupts, a warning tone on the edge of his tongue, "Kageyama is in here too, you know."

Daichi coughs on the other side of the door, realizing that I can hear their entire conversation. "Oh, uh, I'm gonna go talk to my brother before the ceremony starts." I can practically hear the blush in his voice. "I love you," he adds.

"Love you too, baby," Suga answers, and I turn away, letting them have their moment. "See you in a bit."

He stands there at the door for a few minutes, hand still on the knob and a faraway look to his eyes. Maybe it's finally sinking in, the fact that he's marrying the love of his life in less than an hour. I wonder if it feels real? Or like some big cosmic fairytale.

"That reminds me!" Suga claps his hands together, turning to me with a new excitement in his eyes. "Do you have your toast ready?"

"My what?"

"Kageyama! Your toast!" He looks at me as if I just proposed we assassinate the president or something. "Your best man toast? You did write one right?"

"Shit, Suga I totally forgot," I admit, running my hand against the back of my neck. "Is Daichi's best man doing one? Who is it anyway?"

"His older brother, Hisao. And yes, you were both supposed to do one," he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose like he always does when I worry him.

Don't worry about it," I say, standing and patting him on the shoulder, "I'll figure something out. It'll be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive," I answer, hoping to lessen the stress I can see forming between his eyebrows. I'm not positive, and forty five minutes is definitely not long enough to figure something out, but for Suga I'll do anything.

***

Watching the wedding ceremony makes me wonder if Suga and Daichi ever get tired of being so goddamn unbearably perfect. I mean, honestly, it's like they were specifically created to find each other and make everyone else around them look bad. I don't even consider myself a romantic, but as Daichi's mom dabs at her eyes and Bokuto sobs onto Kuroo's shoulder I feel myself tear up because damnit they love each other so much.

Hinata sits two rows from the front and on the opposite side of the aisle from where I stand off to Suga's side, and I find my eyes drifting over towards him as the ceremony goes on, trailing up his jaw line and along the bridge of his nose. I trace his profile in my mind, the sheer beauty adding to the atmosphere around me. I have to keep reminding myself that my attention belongs at the altar. My mind skips around, constantly switching between the wedding and Hinata.

Daichi's niece skips down the aisle, tossing flower petals behind her. Hinata's smile is crooked and bright as he watches Suga and Daichi grab hands. The minister gives his spiel which I only half listen to. Hinata's Adam's apple bobs up and down above his shirt collar. Takeru brings the rings, looking ecstatic in his tiny tuxedo. Hinata has the cutest button nose. Suga smiles as he slips a silver band on Daichi's finger. Hinata's hair curls in perfect little swirls around his ears. Daichi tears up as he puts an identical band on Suga's hand. Hinata's legs dangle from the edge of his chair, the tips of his dress shoes barely touching the ground. The minister tells the grooms they can kiss and everyone applauds. Hinata turns slightly, his eyes meeting mine.

It takes me a moment to realize what's happening; that while everyone cries and cheers as Daichi dips Suga at the altar, Hinata and I lock eyes, his cheeks darkening but not looking away. Time drags by, hours passing in the span of a second, and I'm the one that breaks it, my face burning like never before.

I stare forward, burning holes in the windows across from me until Suga and Daichi head back down the aisle hand in hand; Daichi's brother, his niece, Takeru, and I following close behind. Everything happens so fast but my brain moves like molasses.

The reception gives me the cover I need to avoid Hinata, not sure if I can face him yet. I hover around making light conversation with whomever I run into, seeming to surprise most of them with my sudden sociability. I catch sight of Hinata hanging around Bokuto and Kuroo who catch sight of me and start to head my way. Panicking, I turning towards whoever is closest to me, which just happens to be Oikawa and an older woman.

"Hey," I start, breathless and hoping that they won't come over if they see I'm talking to someone. "What's up?"

"Oh hey, Tobio," Oikawa answers, a confused look in his eyes as he looks over my shoulder and back to me, thankfully deciding not to ask. "This is my mom. Mom, this is Tobio. I've been staying with him since Daichi moved in with Suga."

"Nice to meet you sweetheart! I'm Hana. Thank you so much for letting Tooru stay with you, I hope he hasn't been causing you any trouble," the woman smiles sweetly, reaching out to shake my hand. I take it, her palm warm and roughly worn like I've always thought a mother's hand should be. My mom's hands were always too soft.

"Nice to meet you too," I tell her, mustering up my best smile before turning back to Oikawa. "I thought Mrs. Aya was your mom?"

"She is," he answers, looking at me as if my confusion is completely unprecedented. "And this is my other mom."

Once again, I'm an idiot. "Oh! I'm sorry! I didn't realize-,"

"It's okay sweetie," Hana laughs, cutting off my apologies. "Maybe if Tooru would bring his friends home more often you'd know," she teases, carding her fingers through her son's hair even though she has to stand on her tiptoes to reach.

"Mama you're going to mess up my hair," he pouts, pulling away and patting the loose strands back into place. "Tobio is a big grump anyway. He'd just frown at everything if he came to visit."

"Oh shush," Hana chides, Oikawa sticking his tongue out at me from behind her shoulder, "he seems lovely."

"Seems," he mutters, earning a smack on the shoulder that I don't even pretend not to laugh at.

"It was lovely talking to you, sweetie," Hana smiles, giving me a quick hug before grabbing her son's arm, "We should probably go find Aya before dinner starts. Can't wait to hear your toast."

Oh yeah. That. I completely forgot in the wake of everything else muddling my mind. I haven't even started to write it in my head and I can feel a bit of that old fear climbing in my throat.

"There you are! We've been looking for you." Natsu's voice catches my attention and I turn to find her and Kenma arm in arm behind me.

"You were?"

She nods, her bright hair in ringlets around her shoulders and bouncing with the movement. I don't think I've ever truly noticed how pretty she is; long eyelashes framing her big round eyes so similar to her brother's, and shiny lip glossed lips matching perfectly with the frilly dress she rented from Mrs. Aya. Something fiercely protective and brotherly stirs inside of me; wanting to make sure no one else notices how cute she is because she's just a little girl after all.

"Shouyou was looking for you," Kenma adds, pulling absentmindedly at the suspenders over his black dress shirt.

Now that I did know. "Oh, I was just...wait, Kenma are you wearing makeup?" Kenma nods, looking up at me where I can see the dark lines forming little wings at the corners of his eyes.

"Doesn't he look great? I did it for him," Natsu pipes up, her smile radiant and she shows me her handiwork. "It's called a cat eye. I think it suits him really well."

"Yeah," I answer, Kenma looking as if he's close to actually cracking a smile (something I've still yet to see), "it looks really good."

"Anyway, Shouyou is looking for you. He was with Bo and Kuroo over by the cake last time I saw him," she prods, that intrinsic knowing behind her eyes that always makes me feel vulnerably transparent.

"Alright," I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck and avoiding her eyes. "I'll find him," I lie, which I've been told I'm awful at. I don't wait to see if she believes me, turning to head in any direction but towards Hinata.