Chapter Text
In the thick, rolling hills of Japan’s rural regions, many pureblood wizarding families were settled. A humble but relatively well-regarded family resided between the crests of two hills, as it had for generations. Its house was of old stone and wood, and inside it lived a mother, a father, and their two sons.
The start of term was nearing once again, and the two boys (one in his first year, the other in his seventh) scurried about the house in preparation to leave for Mahoukotaro.
“Hey, Kei!” Kei looked up, wide-eyed, from his open trunk. “Didn’t you say you wanted to try out for Quidditch?”
“Yeah. But,” he glanced at the floor in slight melancholy, “I probably won’t get in. They don’t usually accept first-years.”
“Don’t be ridiculous! If you have the skill, you’ll get in. Besides,” Akiteru grinned, pulling something bulky from behind him, “With this broomstick, you can outrace anyone.”
Kei lit up at the sight of the Nimbus 2000 in front of him. “But what about-”
“Don’t worry,” Akiteru reassured him, ruffling his brother’s hair as he handed Kei the broom, “I’ll be too busy this year to play, anyway. I have to focus on my studies if I want to become an auror!”
Kei embraced Akiteru, who laughed lightly. Abruptly, the air began to chill, and goosebumps ran down Kei’s arms. Akiteru whispered, “Too bad you threw your broomstick away during fourth year after quitting your team in the middle of a match. You never failed to disappoint me, brother. Just like you disappointed all your peers when you betrayed the Ministry. Just like you disappointed our parents when you failed to save me.”
Kei woke with a start and nearly fell off his mattress. The warehouse had become so cold that pairs took turns sharing Kuroo’s bedroom, the only place with suitable insulation. Kei had to sleep on one of the curtained-off beds, and he missed the warmth of another body sleeping next to him. He shivered as he resettled himself beneath the inadequate covers.
Morning was yet on the horizon, and not another soul stirred. Kei feigned sleep for a while, but found that after the cold dawn air had crept up against his skin, any attempt to return to dreamland was futile.
He turned over on his mattress and reached for the book he had been reading the night before. Instead of its welcoming pages, his hand brushed across the smooth concrete of the floor.
Could Kuroo have…?
Ever since Fukurodani, there had been a strange distance between them. Not a tension, but a static barrier, as if each time one of them spoke, it was in a language the other didn’t understand. Kei barely saw Kuroo; he spent most of his time flitting back and forth between the manor and the warehouse, never daring to use a method of transportation aside from apparition. Bokuto was in no trouble, but the Ministry was keeping a close eye on him since the night of his party, and Kuroo checked in frequently.
Sometimes Kuroo returned with food, which was desperately needed. Everyone was far too fearful of being recognized to go out on real missions, and they hadn’t brought back so much as half a knut in days. But the challenging magic of apparition left Kuroo drained, and Kei nearly always found him sleeping.
Today was no exception. Kei carefully lifted the heavy curtain separating his bed from Kuroo’s, revealing the wizard sound asleep with the aforementioned book propped open against his chest. Kei hid a smile, and let the curtain fall back into place.
*
Nobuyuki helped out to the best of his ability, but he couldn’t afford for his friends to take more food from the grocery than they had the means to pay for. He had been promoted to assistant manager there, and the responsibility took its toll. He was becoming further and further distanced from Nekoma.
At the first sound of movement, Kei left his secluded bed and joined Yamamoto on kitchen duty.
“It’s not your turn,” Yamamoto said, brow wrinkled, when Kei followed in behind him. “You know that, right?”
“I know. I want to help.”
“Well, there’s not much to do. Unless you want to use some of your pureblood riches to pay for our meals.”
Kei glared. Is this what I get for trying to be generous? “You know as well as I do that going into Gringotts is as good as turning myself in. If I could, I would.”
Yamamoto grunted as he rifled through the cupboards. “I don’t even know if we have enough left to make breakfast. Jeez.” He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, to stare at his toes. “If this keeps up, we’ll have to break into the savings.”
“Savings?” Kei always assumed they spent every penny they made on food and supplies. How on earth did Nekoma have savings?
Yamamoto raised his head. “Kuroo never mentioned it? For all we make, we put a little away for people’s personal needs and stuff. I’m pretty sure all of us want something- Nekoma is my family, but I don’t plan to spend the rest of my life in this warehouse. As long as I’m here, I’d at least like to have something nice to make it a little more bearable. Nobuyuki’s the only one to really make it, though. I don’t have enough in my jar to buy a loaf of bread, much less a motorcycle.”
“That’s what you’re saving up for?” Kei knelt next to the lower cabinets, peering inside. There was nothing of use, unless he wanted to try a taste of the strange growth hiding behind the pots and pans.
“Hell yeah! I know it’s made for muggles, but haven’t you ever wanted something flashy?”
He didn’t think it a very ambitious goal, but he said nothing of the matter. “What about the others?”
“Well, Kenma always wants more games, which aren’t too expensive, so he’s been able to buy a few over the years. Lev changes his mind every day about what he wants, but it doesn’t really matter since he hasn’t got a sickle to his name quite yet. And Yaku...he’s saving up for his transition.”
Kei was sifting through the pantry with tiresome concentration. He finally produced a half-eaten box of stale cereal, and set it on the counter beside the grits they had been eating for the past week, which he was beginning to grow sick at the sight of.
“He’s saving up for what?”
Yamamoto huffed impatiently. “Why don’t I just show you?
Kei was led to a closet beside the bathroom, which he had taken note of before but never paid much attention to. The bolt was stuck in the doorframe, and it took a hard tug for Yamamoto to pull it open, the hinges creaking wildly enough to wake the neighborhood.
Inside was the usual array of old potion bottles; it was what sat on the highest shelf that held Kei’s interest. Nearly as many Mason jars as there were members of Nekoma stood at various stages of being filled. In the center was the oldest jar. NOBUYUKI had been crossed out and LEV rewritten underneath in Sharpie. It contained no more than a few knuts.
Yaku's was in muggle money, and reaching the brim- closer than any of the others to the top, but, Kei noticed with dismay as he read the number on the label, still so far from reaching its goal. Yaku would need a dozen jars for the amount he desired.
"Hey," Kei noticed, "How come Kuroo doesn't have one?"
Yamamoto looked up. "Oh- I never really thought about it."
"It's because I don't need one." Kuroo's bed head looked more preposterous than ever, if that was possible. Dark circles underlined his eyes, and his nose was red and sore-looking. He sniffed. "Until every member of Nekoma has a paying job and a home of their own, I have to be content with what I've got."
"Jeez," Yamamoto laughed. "You've got to stop being such a good guy, y'know? You're making the rest of us look bad."
Kuroo smiled. "I've got plenty to make up for."
'Team meeting!' echoed throughout the warehouse a few hours after breakfast, everyone's stomachs running on empty from the less than fulfilling meal. At noon, Inuoka, Fukunaga, and Kenma stopped re-organizing potions, Yamamoto and Shibayama finished washing dishes, and Kuroo and Yaku paused from training Lev in his animagus exercises. Kei returned from a long overdue shower, though with no hot water, it wasn't as satisfying as he had hoped. Nobuyuki hadn't visited for several days on account of both his work and the weather.
The table was emptier than Kei remembered, and he tapped his fingers against the worn wood as he waited for everyone to get settled. When the shuffling and scraping of chairs died down, Kuroo began, "We have a job offer." Heads lifted. "It's outside of London, so it's not as risky, and the location is in a muggle area, so there won't be many aurors nearby in case we're recognized." He grimaced. "Which is good, because we're out of polyjuice potions." Collective murmuring. "But this will give us an opportunity to brew more." He was wringing his hands.
Inuoka asked, "What's the catch?"
"I was getting to that." He sucked in a breath. "Our buyer is Suguru Daishou."
A flurry of voices filled the room abruptly, Yaku’s ringing the loudest. “Kuroo, I know we’re desperate, but after what he did to us last time-”
“It’s our only option. And if he decides to play dirty again, we’ll just fight fire with fire.”
“Even if-”
“We’ve lost a dozen buyers because of the incident at Fukurodani. My face was plastered all over the news again. Before we were desperate, now we’re on our last strings. If we don’t get a deal soon…” He didn’t have to say it. These men knew things about hunger that Kei would never understand. But he had to ask.
“Who is Suguru Daishou?”
Kuroo looked at Kei like he expected him to know already. “He’s the owner of an apothecary in Reading called Nohebi’s Potion and Supply. We’ve had business with them in the past, and it didn’t exactly end well.”
Yaku was rubbing his temples. “They’re supposed to be your typical Ministry-approved potions store- and they’re kissasses to the Ministry, let me tell you- but they make most of their money through backroom deals with dark wizards. And I mean real dark wizards. The kind who harass muggle-borns for sport. The kind who were Death Eaters.” Kei shivered at the name. “Since it’s too risky for them to make lethal potions on their own, being suppliers to the Ministry and all, they like to buy off of people like us. After we sold to them, they…”
“They spread a rumor in the black market that our potions were flukes!” Lev finished. “They sold what we had given them at five times the price and claimed they made it themselves!”
“And wouldn’t drop the rumor until we agreed to give them our best recipes to sell out for thousands of galleons. You can see why we don’t like them.” Kuroo shook his head. “But we don’t have much of a choice.”
“I suppose you’re right.” Yaku replied with an air of finality. “Boys, let’s get to work.”
Daishou had ordered a brew of Amortentia, three of Essence of Insanity, and five of Garroting Gas (these had to be put in special containers, as they were meant to explode upon impact). Though they were scraping the bottom of their supply barrels, everyone was hard at work; the potions were to be ready by tomorrow morning, delivered discreetly to the storage area in the basement of Nohebi’s. Kuroo expected it to be a quick mission, but even Kenma was on edge.
“Tsukki, could you pass me that jar of ashwinder eggs next to you?”
“Oh- sure.” Five of them were spread out on the floor of Kuroo’s room near the supply shelves, brewing meticulously. Kuroo was the only one experienced in making amortentia, and sweat beaded his forehead as he stirred carefully, knowing one drop of the wrong ingredient could gravely change the whole thing. Their non-wizard companions filled flasks with the finished potions and set them on racks to cool.
“Nobuyuki should be here,” Yaku murmured as he crumbled dried sneezewort into his cauldron.
“Isn’t he busy with work?” Lev asked, nearly knocking over a stack of glass vials as he tried to step between his companions. He winced.
“He’s off today.”
“I’m sure he’s still busy,” Kuroo said. “He’s got a life, you know. That’s more than can be said about the rest of us.” Dry laughter at that. Yaku didn’t crack a smile.
“He’s forgetting his family.” The room quieted. It was warm inside for once, with the cauldron fires going, but Kei felt a chill as Yaku continued, “Is that what’s going to happen to all of us? After we finally make something of ourselves, stop living in an abandoned building and going against all moral convictions just to survive, are we going to forget each other and pretend some of the most meaningful moments of our lives never happened just because we were struggling? Does looking at us remind him of who he used to be? A disgraceful homeless kid who was begging for bread on the streets before Kuroo took him under his wing? We made him. He would be nowhere without us. I can’t remember how many meals we skipped just so we could put another penny in his jar. And he doesn’t even take the time to stop by.”
Kei didn’t know what to say to that. Nobuyuki’s kindness and patience was second only to Yaku’s, and he wouldn’t have felt at home in Nekoma without his help. To imagine that his visits would start becoming less and less frequent, that he only helped them out of obligation, made Kei remember his own past, and his own dreams of the future. If he could ever return to the Ministry, would he still stop by the warehouse? Would he still lend a helping hand to Kuroo and the others, when he could spare one? He liked to imagine so, despite the risks. Now, picturing it, he wasn’t so sure.
Kuroo’s voice broke the silence. “No,” he said. “Never.”
But even to Kei, he sounded uncertain.
The morning air was still and quiet in Reading. It was a predominantly muggle city, with a few wizards living in the townhouses that lined the narrow streets like rows of crooked teeth. It was warmer than London, but not by much.
The only car Nekoma had access to was Nobuyuki’s. Without it, the non-magical members had no means of transportation save the trains, which couldn’t be relied upon to tote dangerous potions and a handful of fugitives. And with the risk involved, a small crew worked best. So it was just Kuroo, Yaku, Kei, and Yamamoto on this mission.
Yamamoto carried one carton of flasks under his arm, and Yaku was toting the other. Kuroo’s hands were in his pockets, a casual stance to an onlooker if they didn’t know it was to ensure he could pull out his wand at any given second.
“Weren’t they supposed to meet us?” Kei shifted from foot to foot. The back door was in an alley, secluded enough to hide in but exposed enough to worry someone was watching them.
“It’s unlocked,” Yamamoto discovered after trying the door. “Should we just go in?”
Everyone looked to Kuroo, who shrugged uneasily. “I don’t see why not.” He released a breath. “Remember, there’s an apparition block around the entire area surrounding Nohebi’s, so this is our only exit if something goes wrong.”
Kei followed after Kuroo and Yamamoto towards the open doorway. If they were in animagi form, Kei imagined, their backs would be arched, hair standing on end. Before he could step inside, he felt a tug on his arm.
"Hey. Tsukishima." Yaku was staring down at his toes, jaw clenched. The sleeves of his coat were rolled up tight, a dirty khaki-colored thing several sizes too big for him. "Um, what I said the other day, about you and Tetsurou." He met Kei's eyes as he said the name. "I'm sorry. I was drunk, and it was inappropriate."
Kei stiffened. "We don't need to talk about it."
"I'm just trying to say- I get ahead of myself sometimes. If you don't want to date Tetsu, it's...fine. For the best, even."
"What do you mean?"
Yaku looked away again. "I mean, things are kind of hectic right now. We don't know what the future holds for us, any of us. Even you. It's probably a good idea if we don't make it any more complicated."
"Yeah," Kei replied, suddenly more conflicted than ever. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
“Hurry up!” Kuroo called. After Yaku, Kei shut the door firmly behind them.
The basement was larger than Kei had imagined. It was about the length of the warehouse, albeit with a significantly lower ceiling. Rows and rows of cold metal shelves lined the length of the space. On the far side, crates of various sizes were packed just as neatly. Kei heard a sharp rattling from somewhere in the distance, and it grew louder as they started towards the heavy door marked CONFERENCE ROOM in blocky lettering.
“Shouldn’t they be here already?” Yamamoto asked uneasily.
“Relax,” Kuroo replied. “Daishou wants to intimidate you with his creepy dungeon. Don’t let him.”
“I’m not intimidated,” he murmured.
A musty odor emanated from the crates, like mold left to fester somewhere warm and damp. The rattling paused, replaced briefly by a low growl. Kei stepped back. “What was that?”
“Baby dragons,” Yaku replied with clear distaste. “Not only is Daishou a liar and a thief, he’s a smuggler, too.”
Kei thought about how inhumane it was, to keep such a sacred creature locked up in the dark like that. He gave one last look at the crate before following his companions.
The conference room was not much more than a small storage space. A smug-faced wizard sat behind the table in the center with his arms crossed, as if he were perched atop a gold-plated throne instead of a creaky plastic folding chair. He reeked of overconfidence. Yamamoto and Yaku set their cartons of potions on the table quickly and wordlessly, as if afraid he would lash out at them if they turned their backs for too long. Yamamoto fixed him with a steady glare.
“Daishou.” Kuroo eyed him pensively.
“Kuroo. It’s been quite a while.” He smiled. “I was almost afraid you wouldn’t show up.”
“I brought what you asked for. I’ll take my payment and leave, and this can be over with.” Kei could tell from how tensely Kuroo held his shoulders that his bold words were just that; words.
“You know as well as I do that there’s an order here. I’ll have to examine those-” he motioned to the cartons- “Before I make any final decisions. And I’d like to consult you and your devotees. How about we start with…” he waved his finger around, pausing before landing on Kei. “You.”
Kuroo glowered. “What do you want with him?”
“That’s between us. The rest of you can wait outside.”
“Hold on a minute-”
Yaku pulled Kuroo back. “C’mon, Tetsurou. Let’s just do what he says.”
Kuroo made a motion across his neck directed at Daishou before following the others outside.
“Sit.” Daishou motioned to the chair adjacent to him just as the door clicked shut. Kei sat.
He examined him for what felt like a long time.
“Do you know why you’re here?”
Kei had dealt with people like this before- smug pricks who thought they were above it all. He remained silent.
Daishou reached dramatically into the pocket of his robes, unfurling a piece of paper.
“Kei Tsukishima. Auror. Last seen inside London Ministry of Magic. Wherabouts unknown. Likley in the hold of wizard criminal Tetsurou Kuroo. Wanted alive for the reward of ten thousand galleons.” He looked back at Kei. “I could turn you in and collect your reward. I could tell the Ministry I found you in my supply room with Kuroo attempting dual robbery, or that I rescued you from the clutches of his evil band of misfits. Frankly, they’ll believe any story I tell them.” Daishou paused, smiling, and it took every ounce of self-control Kei had left not to deck him. “What story do you want them to hear?”
“I think I should be asking you what story you’re going to tell them, since my preference obviously has no merit in this conversation.”
Daishou seemed amused by that. “I guess you’re right. I’ll stop beating around the bush, then.
“Kuroo and the rest of Nekoma are wanted dead or alive. The reward is enough to allow me to retire today and live the rest of my life in the lap of luxury. Of course, I would sacrifice this early retirement plan to give you a portion of the prize, if you were interested in doing me a small favor.”
“What favor?”
“You have to help me turn them in.”
“Can’t you do that yourself?” Kei knew Daishou couldn’t have the Ministry storming his basement; he would be in as much trouble as Kuroo was, with what he was keeping down here. But there were other ways to turn someone in, certainly, and he had no doubt that Daishou was well aware of them.
“The fact that Kuroo had enough faith in me to come here is a miracle in itself. He wouldn’t trust me as far as he could throw me. And I don’t want to kill him if I don’t have to- my hands are dirty enough as is. I’m not sure where you stand with Nekoma, but you don’t seem like much of a captive to me. Am I wrong that you could convince Kuroo to trust you?”
“If I could do that, why would I need your help turning him in?”
“He would never have to know it was you. I’d offer protection against any allegations.”
Kei faltered at that.
“I’ll think about it.” He hated that smirk on Daishou’s face. “Can I go now?”
“One more thing.” Kei wasn’t usually intimidated by wand-pointing lunatics, but there was something about the glint in Daishou’s eyes that led him to believe the wizard wouldn’t hesitate to hex him. “If you utter a word of this to Kuroo, I’ll be inclined to forget the ‘alive’ specification on your wanted poster.”
His friends were not waiting alone, Kei found, when he finally stepped out of Daishou’s suffocating interrogation room.
Five men stood guard around them, arms crossed. Kuroo, Yaku and Yamamoto sat slouched against the wall, faces guarded and eyes searching Kei’s for some sign of what he and Daishou had spoken about. He had none to give. He joined Kuroo in the corner beside one of the metal shelves.
“Are you-”
Kuroo shook his head, motioning to the wizards that surrounded them. Not now.
Just as soon as it had shut, the heavy door groaned back open. Daishou stuck his head out, glanced around, and secured his gaze on Yaku. “I’ll see you next.”
And so the cycle continued, until it was Kuroo’s turn.
“He’s just doing this to get under my skin,” he muttered as he stretched his stiff legs and sauntered through the doorway. Perhaps Kuroo wasn’t too far off. Daishou’s actions all held multiple intentions. Covering his tracks so his meeting with Kei didn’t read as an isolated incident was undoubtedly one of them.
Kei bit his lip as he watched the door close behind Kuroo. Because he had started thinking that maybe Daishou had the right idea. It was tempting, the premise of returning to his life as it was before Kuroo entered it, without facing the consequences of everything he had done. But he had wallowed in his own guilt before, and that was an experience he didn’t want to relive.
Besides, what did he have to go back to? His only friend at the Ministry was Yamaguchi, and Kei couldn’t so much as meet his eyes without feeling crippling remorse for what he had put him through. Even if he settled down in Tokyo again, he would have to confront the ghost of his brother. After all these years, the thought of moving on still haunted him.
Nekoma was a brilliant group of wizards and muggles alike. So brilliant they had managed to break someone out of a high-security Ministry prison. The work Yaku had put into weakening their magical barriers days before Kuroo’s escape was phenomenal. Not to mention half of them were animagi. Daishou seemed to believe otherwise, but Kei doubted he could fool them for a second.
What was he to them, anyway? A prisoner? A prospective sleeper agent? A comrade of equal standing? A friend? No. He was family. And family didn’t turn their backs on one another.
*
“You’re good to go,” Daishou said as he stood in front of them, a bag of galleons outstretched in Kuroo’s direction. Kuroo pocketed the money.
“Good to go?”
“I spoke with all of you, examined your potions, and you’re good to go. It’s been a pleasure working with you.”
Kei could almost taste the tension in Kuroo’s words when he shook Daishou’s hand and replied with a forced smile, “Same to you.”
It was sleeting when they left the basement. The moment he stepped outside, Yamamoto exploded. “That guy! Who the hell does he think he is!”
“Pipe down,” Yaku replied, shifting his gaze down the alleyway. “We’re not alone.”
Kei followed Yaku’s eyes to a figure standing several yards away. He was wearing muggle clothing, and Kei would have been fooled by the diguise if hadn’t already recognized him by his height and shock of bright red hair.
“That’s an auror,” Kei hissed.
“What?!”
As if on cue, a second man with dark hair and a taller stature appeared on the opposite end of the alley, blocking their exit. Kuroo turned his head back and forth with growing panic. As Kageyama drew his wand, Kuroo grabbed Kei’s hand and uttered one word: scatter.
Kei didn’t have to be told twice. He closed his eyes, concentrated, and...nothing happened. He was flung to the ground by Kuroo just before a bolt of bright light shot out of Kageyama’s wand.
“What the hell?”
“There must be a transfiguration block, too!” Kuroo shouted. “Let’s run for the shrimp-” he was cut off by another hex, which barely missed Yamamoto. “Go!”
The four of them surged forward, running in a zigzag pattern as spells were cast from either end of the alley. Kei could tell only by the sound of feet pounding against cobblestone that Yamamoto and Yaku were still somewhere behind them. Sleet rushed from the sky, blurring Kei’s eyes. He wiped his face with his free hand before digging inside his pocket for his wand.
As they neared Hinata, he stretched his limbs out, as if he could somehow create a blockade using only his body. Kei and Kuroo both held their wands in front of them, and Kuroo was shouting curses left and right, all of which Hinata countered. Kei’s wand was shaking in his sweaty palm. He had yet to utter a single incantation.
Kageyama had followed them at full speed down the alley, and Kuroo finally managed to blast Hinata’s wand out of his hand and into the street while the auror was busy yelling at his partner to improve his aim.
“THREE!” It was Yamamoto’s voice. Kei heard the sound of shattering glass behind him, and immediately the alley was filled with a thick, noxious gas.
Kuroo tugged Kei urgently. “Garrotting gas,” he murmured through his teeth as they raced past their now-choking captor to the street, and Kei knew to hold his breath. Even so, he felt the weightless substance throbbing at his neck, and he wretched before Kuroo pulled him free of the stuff.
“I told you to wait until my count!” he heard Yaku shout close behind them. “Not yours!”
“It worked, didn’t it?” Was Yamamoto’s winded reply.
They continued running, bumping shoulders with alarmed muggle passerby until the alleyway was far out of sight.
Kuroo paused and turned to face Yaku and Yamamoto, who slowed to a jog before stopping completely, chests heaving. He gave them a curt nod, squeezed Kei’s hand, and they were back at the warehouse in the blink of an eye.
Lev leapt up from his seat playing bridge at the table the moment they arrived.
“How did it go?” He asked anxiously. The others followed close behind him, eyes on the four’s soaked clothes and tired faces.
Yamamoto began to animatedly recount their mission, Yaku cutting in every so often. When he reached the part about how he had “taken down” the aurors, he pulled a second rounded vial of garroting gas from his pocket.
“I knew Daishou was gonna play dirty, so I brewed a couple extra bottles of this stuff in case we needed to make a quick escape. So when the second guy came up behind us, I-” he mimicked tossing the potion- “WHAM! Threw it right at his feet, and ran the hell out of there. They both got it pretty good. I can’t wait for them to go crying back to the Ministry to tell them how we kicked their asses.”
There was a round of hollering and applause from some of the more boisterous boys. Yamamoto was glowing in their praise.
“You forgot about how I told you to wait until we were out of the alley to throw it so we wouldn’t get hit ourselves,” Yaku added, elbowing him.
“Jeez, Morisuke, can’t ya let me be the heroic mastermind for once?”
Kuroo took the opportunity to snatch the remaining vial from Yamamoto. “I’ll take that,” he said. “I think we’ve had enough adventure for one day.”
Kei followed Kuroo into the back room to watch him place the container on a high shelf.
“I didn’t think we’d make it out of there alive,” Kei remarked lightly.
“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s a miracle.” Kuroo looked at him then, and Kei wasn’t sure if it was the adrenaline coursing through him from being chased by his ex-coworkers, or all the uncertainty he had felt that day, or the fact that he had been waiting for this since who knows how long ago, but he kissed him. And Kuroo kissed him back.
Kei pulled away only because he desperately needed to breathe.
“I thought you’d never do that.” Kuroo laughed, bewildered, cupping Kei’s face in his hands and pressing kisses to his forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his nose, his lips. “Tsukki, Tsukki, Tsukki, Tsukki, Tsukki…”
Kei held him by the shoulders and kissed him again, long and slow. He snorted as they fumbled and fell onto Kuroo’s mattress, as Kuroo tugged off his coat and pressed his lips adoringly against every bare inch of Kei’s skin.
“I love you,” Kuroo whispered into the curve of his neck.
Kei faltered.
“No, you don’t.”
“What?” Kuroo rolled off of him. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I do!”
Kei clamped his palms against his own forehead. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I don’t believe you, it’s just…” he looked over at Kuroo, who seemed to be trying to swallow down an ocean of hurt. “We barely know each other.”
“That’s not true!”
“Okay, we know each other, but it’s not how normal people know each other. I know what the most traumatic experience of your life is, and you know mine, but I don’t know your favorite ice cream flavor.”
“Why does that matter?” Kuroo was incredulous.
“It matters! I can’t- I don’t-” he let out an agitated huff. “I don’t want to jump into this blindfolded. There’s so much about you I’m still unsure of.” Like if you trust me.
“It’s cookie dough.”
“What?”
“My favorite ice cream flavor. Now you know.”
“That’s not my point.”
“And I already know yours is strawberry.”
He flushed. “Again, not my point.”
“Okay.” Kuroo propped himself up on his elbow to face Kei. “So let’s get to know each other better. How about twenty questions?”
“Are you serious?”
“Don’t you know what twenty questions is?”
“Of course I do. I was just under the impression that it was a game for bored teenagers and B-list young adult romance novels.”
Kuroo scoffed. “I was kidding, but now that you say that, I really do want to play it.” He grinned. “You go first.”
Kei gave him a look.
“Fine, I’ll go first. What’s your favorite color?”
“...Blue. Yours?”
“The color of your eyes.”
“Okay, we’re not doing this.”
“Tsukki, wait! Come back!”
Kei sighed and lay back down.
“C’mon, Tsukki-”
“It’s Kei.” Kuroo looked way too excited about that response. Kei pursed his lips to keep himself from catching that contagious smile. “Call me Kei. And fine, I’ll play. But don’t expect my questions to be as boring as yours.”
“Hey! First rule of this game is, no insults.”
“There are rules now?”
Kuroo leaned in and kissed him. If he had meant to shut Kei up, it worked. His voice was low. “Just ask your question.”
“Fine.” He forced himself to look somewhere other than at Kuroo and cleared his throat. His gaze dropped instead to their threaded fingers, Kuroo’s thumb making small circles against the side of his palm. “What would you do if you weren’t...you know. If you had the chance to be whatever you wanted. What would you do with your life?”
“Hmmm…” Kuroo considered. “I think I’d be a cook.”
“A cook.”
“Don’t sound so unimpressed. What would you do? Would you still be an auror?”
“I don’t think there’s anything else I could do.”
“Really?”
“Why?”
“I just thought that if your life went differently, you might choose a more obscure career. Like a writer.”
“A writer?”
“Well, you certainly wouldn’t be a cook.”
Kei decked him with the nearest pillow. Kuroo, laughing, swung it back at him with far less force, and Kei caught it easily. “I thought you said no insults.”
Kuroo grinned. “Come on, you practically gave that one to me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Alright. But I’m officially done playing this game. If I’m going to get to know you, it’s going to be through genuine conversations, not random bouts of questions.”
“Does that mean I get to kiss you now?”
“You already broke that rule, but yes.”
Their noses were pressed together. “To be fair, I didn’t know it was a rule.”