Work Text:
“There’s definitely something going on with Kuroo,” Bokuto noted, squinting accusingly at the fresh, new bouquet on Kuroo’s desk.
“What makes you think that, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi’s cleaning his equipment, looking almost apathetic as he responds. It wasn’t like it was a rare occurrence for Bokuto to blurt out weird accusations and theories anyways, so he knew better than to egg his boyfriend on.
“Kuroo?! With flowers?! Babe, he’s never liked flowers before!! Never even mentions them outside of work! And yet, suddenly, he has a new bouquet on his desk every other week! You can’t look at me and tell me I’m wrong this time!”
Akaashi sighs. Truth be told, he was also curious as to why Kuroo started coming into work with bouquets in hand, but it wasn’t like the man wasn’t allowed to have a change in heart. Who knows, maybe he likes spending his extra money on overpriced flowers. It’s a nice change in scenery, kinda. Really pops out amidst all the black decor in the shop.
He opens his mouth to try and retort, but it didn’t seem like bokuto was going to stop talking any time soon, so he looks over and tries to seek help from someone, anyone. Suna looks away almost immediately and Sakusa has his airpods in- so no help for now. But thank god, Atsumu was still out on his lunch break--
“Oh! Yer right!”
Akaashi puts his head in his hands as soon as he hears Atsumu’s overexcited voice.
“He could barely take care of the cactus we got him before, and now he’s like some flower expert?? Somethin’s fishy.”
Peeking at the two through his fingers, he prays that this is just one of their rants where they just really want to get the topic off their chests and it doesn’t ever pop up ever again. So with a sigh, he goes back to his equipment, letting the two doofuses hash it out between themselves.
“Leave him alone, guys, really. Okay?”
He gets enthusiastic nods in return, which don’t reassure him all that much, but he’ll give them the benefit of the doubt anyways.
Hopefully this conversation doesn’t awake anything in them.
--
“Bokuto-san, Atsumu-san.. what’s this?”
Akaashi’s facial expression could only express so much of how distraught he was actually feeling. Bokuto and Atsumu were huddled at the former’s desk when Akaashi walked into work, which usually wouldn’t be an issue, but they were clearly hiding something with the way they kept their voices and heads lowered. So he figured he’d walk by behind them and ask off-handedly what they were doing. But before he could even form the words, he caught a glimpse of the tattered paper.
“Akaashi!” Bokuto yelped, both him and Atsumu quick to shield the paper left on the desk behind them. “Hahaha, babe, hi, fancy seeing you here!”
“Bokuto-san, I work here. We’ve both been working here for years.”
“Oh yeahhh,” Akaashi internally sighed at how bad his boyfriend was at subtlety. Atsumu was probably going to have bruises later on from how hard Bokuto was nudging at him- probably as a way to get the other to hide the paper. “Riiiight.”
Raising a brow, Akaashi leaned to the side to try and peek behind the two.
“So, what are you two hiding?”
“Hiding?! We would never hide anything from you, Aka-chin,” Atsumu spoke up, also doing a terrible job at trying to be subtle with the paper. The rustling of this single piece of paper was no more quiet than a child unwrapping their presents on Christmas day.
Fully sick of the two’s shenanigans, Akaashi swiftly plucks the paper from behind Atsumu’s back, holding it up to read what was on there.
“..You guys,” he starts, lowering his hand to glare at Bokuto and Atsumu, both of them sporting the infamous look of guilt they usually had whenever someone called them out on their bullshit. “I thought I told you to leave him alone.”
He held the paper up to point at the writing at the very top of the page that was done in red ink, and underlined, and circled, and highlighted.
“Operation: Why is Kuroo Ok-uet With the Bouquets? You’re really going to harass this man just to find out why he likes flowers?”
“Babe, it’s not like that! We really think--”
“Ooh, thinking? That’s not done too often ‘round here.”
All three of them freeze, slowly turning to see Kuroo walking in from the back door with a small bouquet of yellow and orange daisies in hand. Akaashi thinks he pulled a muscle hiding the paper behind his back, efficiently crumpling it in the process.
“Morning, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi greets, tucking the crumpled paper into his back pocket.
“Morning, ‘Kaashi.” the room is quiet in the few minutes that Kuroo spends putting the bouquet into the little glass vase he kept at the corner of his desk, save for the sound of the paper wrapper rustling and the water Kuroo pours into the vase.
“Oh, don’t let me interrupt your conversation, guys, keep going! I wanna hear what’s got Bokuto, of all people, thinking.”
Akaashi can feel it- the blood vessel that might just pop within the next few minutes. He shoots the two in questioning a pointed glare, trying to make a better point that this time, if they’re caught, they won’t just be getting a lecture from him. They both nod slowly after a loud gulp, looking thoroughly intimidated, and Akaashi moves back to his desk to shred the paper he still had tucked in his pocket.
He has to listen to the dumb trio debate over whether or not fish could see water, but that’s better than having Kuroo’s flower obsession be exploited for some mild entertainment, so he’ll take it. Turning away to face his computer, he fails to see Atsumu pulling a less tattered piece of paper out of Bokuto’s desk.
--
“Operation: Why is Kuroo Ok-uet with the Bouquets is in action!”
Bokuto whisper-yelled as he scanned the room. They’d just informed Kuroo that Noya was here for a visit and had him stuck at the front of the shop, hopefully for a while. Akaashi, Sakusa and Suna were all busy with clients, so this was the perfect time to check Kuroo’s phone, which was left conveniently on his desk in the back. Why his phone? Because there was only one possible reason as to why Kuroo suddenly loved flowers: Having a lover! And because they’ve never seen nor heard of said hypothetical lover, they figured they’d find hints in Kuroo’s definitely-hiding-infinite-secrets phone!
Atsumu gave the room another scan before offering the other a thumbs up, the two scrambling up from where they were sitting behind the door to the room and running straight to Kuroo’s desk. The blonde picked it up, immediate scrutinizing it as if that was going to do them any good.
“Hm.. looks pretty normal to me. Plain black and red case, cracked screen protector, lockscreen is a picture of Kenma’s cats, no new notifications, and no cards or photos hidden.”
“Ok, then we gotta try and get into his phone!”
“Bokkun, we don’t know his pin!”
“Look through his desk, maybe he left something around with the password!”
And look through his desk they did- they practically turned it inside out, opening all the cabinets to search through the nooks and crannies. Yet all they got were some old looking sticky-notes, uncapped pens, a cat pin and- are those Taco Bell sauce packs? The two of them groaned at the lack of anything that could give them the slightest hint to help them with their plan. Like, what could they possible theorize with the shit in Kuroo’s desk?! If anything, it was more proof that he shouldn’t be coming in with flowers every other week!
“Ugh, just- let’s just try something!”
Kuroo’s birthday? Nope. Kenma’s birthday? Nope. The day Daishou got dumped by Mika? Nope. Frustrated, but still desperate, the two continued to pull dates out of their asses to try and see if anything would work. They couldn’t be that bad at figuring out the password! Bokuto perks up after working his brain for approximately 0.01 seconds, holding up a finger in the classic ‘a-ha!’ manner,
“Maybe it’s Akaashi’s birthday, then!”
“Bokkun,” Atsumu breathed, sounding equal parts scared and tired as he held up the phone, “we locked his phone for an hour.”
“..Shit.”
So when Kuroo finally came back from his conversation with Noya, the two of them played dumb for the fifteen minutes that the other went to find his phone. And continued to play dumb when Kuroo eventually found it wedged in between two stacks of american cheese in the fridge.
( “..Guys, why is my phone in the fridge?”
“Play dumb,” Atsumu whispered to Bokuto, whose eyes lit up after the reminder.
“What the fuck is a fridge?” )
Thankfully, he didn’t think too much about it. It was getting close to April after all. Maybe he just needed to keep an eye out for any more potential April fools’ pranks.
--
“We need to be more stealthy, Tsum-Tsum!”
“I know, but how??”
As if on cue, the two of them peer over their shoulders and the conveniently sleeping Kuroo on their office couch. They looked back at each other, then back at Kuroo, then at his phone, then back to each other. A shared lightbulb popped up above their heads. Akaashi was out doing reception today so he’s not here to yell at them, and Sakusa and Suna couldn’t give less shits than they already do. Which means: This Is Their Chance.
They crawl over to Kuroo despite the distance between them being less than a meter. Bokuto gently lifts up Kuroo’s hand that was laying atop his phone and Atsumu grabbed the phone. Gently, Bokuto grabbed ahold of Kuroo’s pointer finger with the pressure and tension of a surgeon performing open heart surgery and pressed it onto the phone screen. The default iPhone wallpaper has never looked more satisfying.
With the phone unlocked, they scramble back to Bokuto’s desk, leaving one of Kuroo’s arms dangling off the side of the couch.
“Okay, okay,” Atsumu breathed, “We gotta check through all the messages!”
Bokuto nodded in agreement, and so the search began.
“Search for any name written with a heart- or any message that sounds like flirting,” Bokuto suggests confidently, knowing that his contact name on Akaashi’s phone is near unreadable with all the hearts that Bokuto himself put in. So they try and look for hearts. And flirting. But nothing comes up.
For someone who was previously famous for being an effortless flirt, Kuroo’s messages were pretty dry. A conversation with his mom, one with his dad (the last message sent from his dad was “K.”), an endless exchange of cat photos between him and Kenma, a couple of dead group chats (probably from old college group projects), some dude named Hinata Shouyou, and then there were the rest of his friends and colleagues.
“What the fuck,” Atsumu groaned, cradling his head with his free hand. “What in the actual fuck. If it’s not a girlfriend, then what’s making him bring in all these flowers--”
“Wait, Tsumu!” Bokuto interrupted, pointing at the last text sent to Hinata:
I’ll see you at home later, then
Now, that was what they were looking for!
Grinning, the two of them huddle closer, as if someone by the name of Akaashi Keiji was going to magically appear behind them with a weapon of some sort. Finger readily raised, Atsumu reaches down to press onto the chat when the screen changes.
“Oh shit-”
Kuroo’s mom was calling.
Bokuto tosses the phone over to Atsumu without a second thought, raising his hands up in defeat, like he wasn’t part of the problem. The blonde looks over to his coworker, sporting an unamused look, watching as the other simply turned around, feigning innocence. Oh, fuck it.
“Hello? Kuroo-san?” he answers the phone, moving further away from Bokuto.
“Oh? You’re not Tetsurou,” a kind voice responds, followed by “Are you one of his friends?”
Atsumu gulps. If she knows, she could unintentionally tattle on him! But if she doesn’t, then--
“Yes, I work with Tetsurou-san! He’s currently napping, so I answered the phone for him.”
“Oh, how sweet of you,” Kuroo’s mom coos, effectively jabbing at Atsumu’s conscience. “Would you tell him to call me back later? I’ve been very concerned for him for a while now. He’s been visiting more lately, which I appreciate, but every time he comes home, he has these massive dark bags underneath his eyes! I just wanted to check in on him, but perhaps this was a bad time to call..”
Atsumu was clutching at his chest, face all scrunched up at how sweet Kuroo’s mom was. Where the fuck did Kuroo’s personality come from then?! Maybe he should call and talk to his dad next time and see if it came from there instead. But judging from how many of their texts were short, one-worded responses, what are the chances of his dad even picking up the phone?
Bokuto peeks curiously at Atsumu’s pained expression. The blonde gives himself another second to breathe and compose himself before he gives up and walks over to their office couch, shaking Kuroo awake with a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey,” he called, pouting at the fact that he was willing to sacrifice their findings for Kuroo’s mom. “Wake up. Your mom called.”
Atsumu passes the phone over to Kuroo, walking sulkily over to Bokuto’s desk.
“God, where does Kuroo’s shit personality come from, then?!”
“You’re one to talk, sir Ratsumu,” Bokuto snickers, remembering the first time Suna called Atsumu that name.
“Fuck off, Bokkun.”
--
Atsumu was tired. Bokuto was tired. They’ve tried everything in the book at this point: stealing his phone again (Akaashi caught them and beat them up on the spot), asking his close friends (Kenma never picked up their calls and sent an 8 ball game in response to their texts), bribing Suna and Sakusa to help because they always somehow figures everything out (the two tattled and they got beat up for it. Again). They had no other way to do it! And they couldn’t just ask Kuroo because where was the fun in that?
“Hah,” Atsumu sighed, leaning back in his seat with his arms crossed, “are we gonna hafta give up on the plan now?”
Bokuto, with his head rested on his desk, cheek smooshed, gave something in between a whine and a groan in response. It’s not like they didn’t have any evidence to go off of anymore, Kuroo still came in with fresh, new bouquets every other week, so if anything, the consistency should be even more motivation for them! But at this point, what they needed was a miracle if they really want to figure this out--
“Ah, something came up? Do you want to change to this Friday?”
The two hooligans turned to look at each other, energy suddenly restored, before they slowly turned to look at their co-worker in question. Kuroo had his phone wedged between his shoulder and his ear, a pen in hand as he skimmed over his calendar, crossing out something from today, Tuesday, and instead, rewriting it on Friday.
“Yeah, yeah, I got it. You’re starting to sound like my mom, y’know?” Kuroo put down the pen in favor of holding his phone in his hand, letting out a low chuckle at whatever the other person on the line said. And then he smiles- and it’s not just any smile! In fact, it’s a smile that Bokuto and Atsumu don’t think they’ve ever seen on Kuroo’s face. Which could only mean One Thing.
After watching as Kuroo exchanges greetings with the person on the phone and seeing him walk back out to the front, the two turn to face each other.
“This is our last chance!” Bokuto whisper-yelled, knowing better than to talk any louder after their.. last interactions with his boyfriend. Atsumu, bright eyed and determined, gives a quick nod, quickly pulling out his phone.
“You better keep this Friday free, ya hear?!”
Out of instinct, they turn their heads to scan their surroundings (it’s quite obvious that Akaashi put them through something horrendous), all quiet and calculated, unlike their usual selves. And when they deem things clear, they both enter a short, but ominous ‘event’ into their calendars: ‘Follow Kuroo’.
Finding out about Kuroo’s plans this Friday was a miracle already, but to not have anybody at work find out that they were gonna follow Kuroo to said plans? That can only be explained as them receiving either pity or mercy from above. They weren’t complaining, though, no, not at all! Rather, they were even more hyped to (hopefully) finally get to the bottom of Operation: Why is Kuroo Ok-uet With the Bouquets?
So here they were, already standing outside of the tattoo parlor’s back door, about fifteen minutes before Kuroo supposedly said he was going to head out. They double checked everything- their sunglasses and hats for disguise, phone storage for video evidence in case Kuroo denies anything, the (Atsumu’s) car keys for when they need to chase him down, everything!
“Shh!” Bokuto slaps a hand over Atsumu’s mouth when the other continues to mutter even after the back door’s bells let out a small jingle. “He’s coming! SHH!”
“You shut the fuck up!” is the response spat back when Bokuto’s shushing grows louder in volume.
The two are just about to continue bickering when the door fully opens, revealing a Kuroo in casual clothing. Now, was his fit something date-ready? Atsumu argues no, but Bokuto says otherwise (“That’s because ‘Kaashi loves you too much to talk shit about yer outdated meme shirts”). But they weren’t going to be swayed by the lack of flashier clothes, this was still their final chance, after all.
“Ready?” Bokuto puts his hand up as if ready to give a signal for when Kuroo gets on his motorcycle.
Hearts racing, the two wait for the optimal moment to go, but Kuroo just.. walks past his motorcycle? And towards the crosswalk?
Confused, but still determined to follow him no matter what, Atsumu tucks his car keys away and nods his head in Kuroo’s direction, urging Bokuto to come with him that way. They get a few odd stares from pedestrians for walking along the block like they were some sort of secret agents but thankful nonetheless that none of them called authorities nor stopped them to question the two themselves. There’s a sad attempt try to keep some distance between them and Kuroo, y’know, so they don’t get found out, and also to discuss. But really, the most distance they can put between themselves and Kuroo is a little less than three feet- any more and the they’re sure to get distracted by the next pigeon they pass.
“Where d’you think he’s going??” Atsumu hisses as they wait for the crosswalk light to turn green.
“I don’t fuckin’ know, man. Maybe he’s taking a walk to calm his nerves-- wait, the light turned green, go GO!”
With only a couple other people crossing the street, it become a little difficult to blend into the crowd- their poor disguises do nothing to help, too. Yet, somehow, they still manage to tail Kuroo across the street and to the left.. to the flower shop?
“Oh, of course, he’s getting flowers for his date, duh!”
“Shh, let’s stay around here so we don’t lose him,” Atsumu responds, not taking into account that loitering could get them shooed away anyways.
So they stick to the corner of the shop, where Kuroo will hopefully, simply pass by them without noticing who they were. But then five minutes go by, then ten, then fifteen, and by twenty minutes, they’re both impatient.
“Ahhh, Tsumu, I can’t take this anymore! What’s taking him so long?!” Bokuto throws himself onto the display mirrors for a peek. Atsumu tries to stop him with a hiss that Kuroo could spot them, but before he could pull the other away, they both freeze at the sight just inside the shop.
Kuroo’s with another man, a much shorter man. He has bright orange hair, which makes them wonder what his face looks like. Kuroo takes a (presumably) freshly-made bouquet from the man, which has the two internally celebrating, until the shorter man goes on his tip toes and cups Kuroo’s cheeks to give him a long kiss. And then they see it- the ring on the shorter man’s hand. The two recoil out of shock and with their jaws hanging.
“Did.. did Kuroo-san ever wear a ring?”
Bokuto shook his head, swallowing heavily.
Still in shock, they don’t register the two figures from inside the shop slowly getting closer and closer. It isn’t until they hear the tiny chime of a bell that they turn, looking the exact image of a pair of criminals with their faces and hands still glued to the glass. Kuroo raises a brow at the two, like he was about to ask a question, until he finally recognizes them, lips forming a tiny ‘o’ shape.
“Wah, ‘Tsumu-kun, Bokkun, what are you two doing here?”
Atsumu is the first to regain his senses, moving away from the glass to point an accusatory finger at Kuroo.
“W-we could ask you the same question! We thought you were meeting your date!”
“Oh? Well-”
“How could you, Kuroo?! I never thought you’d be ruining someone else’s relationship!”
“What-- whose relationship am I ruining?!”
The two audibly gasp, perfectly in sync when they place their hands on their chest. Atsumu quickly moves, lips turned into a snarl and hands reaching towards Kuroo’s collar. He only manages to grab onto the flimsy material when another chime interrupts his train of thought, and he finds himself looking over at the concerned-looking ginger that just closed the store’s door.
“I’m sorry, but please refrain from causing trouble in front of my shop or I’ll be forced to call authorities,” the shorter says, tiny hands prying Atsumu’s off of Kuroo before putting himself in between them.
“I-”
Cheeks heating up, Atsumu steps away from the redhead, but he doesn’t get too far considering how he bumps into Bokuto’s chest almost right away.
This was the man Kuroo was going after?! What a catch! Small and soft, with doe eyes and pretty pink lips and peachy cheeks. And he even smells nice (Probably, because he worked at a flower shop)! His eyes quickly flit between Kuroo and the other man, ears completely drowning out Bokuto’s worried muttering as he watches his coworker wrap an arm around the stranger.
“Oh, baby,” Kuroo croons, aiming a taunting smirk at Atsumu before leaning down to press a kiss to the shorter man’s temple, “were you worried about me?”
“Kuroo-san, now isn’t the time--”
“Ah, do you not recognize them, Shou? Were my descriptions inaccurate? These are my coworkers.”
Kuroo raises a finger to point at the two, which gets the shorter man to tilt his head curiously (no, Atsumu did not let out a squeak when he stepped closer to him). He squints at them for a second before recognition flashes across his face as well, his hostile expression melting and morphing into a bright, toothy grin.
“Oh! Hello, Atsumu-san, Bokuto-san!”
Surprised, Bokuto pops up from behind Atsumu’s shoulder, wagging a finger between himself and the blonde.
“You know us?!”
“Of course he does,” Kuroo answers, gently pulling the redhead back to his side. “I tell my fiance a lot about you guys.”
This time, it’s Atsumu that’s surprised. Perhaps, a little bit too surprised with how his entire face pales and how his hands come up to hold his head.
“YOUR WHAT?!”
“My fiance.”
Kuroo reaches down to grab the redhead’s left hand, bringing it up to display the thin golden band sitting on his fourth finger, before reaching beneath his own collar to pull out a thin chain holding an identical ring.
“It’s nice to finally meet you two, I’m Hinata Shouyou, soon to be Kuroo Shouyou! I apologize for my behaviour just now, I didn’t expect to be meeting Kuroo-san’s coworkers outside my shop.”
Completely humiliated and yet still shameless, the two buffoons perform some sort of impromptu interpretive dance of their current predicament. Kuroo supposes if they were a little bit better at dancing, they might’ve received a dollar or two by now.
“I was going to introduce him to you guys at some point, but he’s been really busy with all the wedding and birthday clients coming up.. but you two might have already seen his name on my phone.”
The two freeze, their heads slowly turning to look at Kuroo, whom, despite smiling sweetly, has never looked more intimidating. Hinata, on the other hand, looks like he has absolutely no clue what was going on. Which was probably true.
“What, you thought I was that dumb?”
Smirking, Kuroo folds his arms across his chest, expecting the two to start sputtering out a plethora of excuses in hopes of not getting in trouble. But when only silence follows (along with the distant beeping of nearby crosswalks), Kuroo purses his lips in shame.
“Yeah, never mind, that’s fair.”
--
“So what, that’s it? That’s why Kuroo comes in with bouquets every other week?”
“Yes, that’s really all there is,” Hinata chimes, his nimble fingers threading delicate flowers into a crown. “It’s usually really quiet and boring in the mornings here, and it didn’t bother me much up until a few months ago. I guess it was all the excess energy from being newly engaged.”
The redhead pauses to place the crown of warm coloured carnations and baby’s breath onto Kuroo’s head to check the sizing. In the corner, Atsumu sneaks a few pictures of his coworker, all of which are photobombed by Kuroo’s middle fingers.
“I told Kuroo-san about it offhandedly one night at home, and suddenly he started to come in every other Monday, right at opening time, to ask for a bouquet.”
Hinata leans down to press a kiss right behind Kuroo’s ear, temporarily diminishing his need to strangle a certain blonde.
“He’s sweet, isn’t he?”
Both Bokuto and Atsumu pause at that, facial expressions contorted into something akin to being mid-sneeze. It manages to pull a small giggle from Hinata, but his fiance doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment, looking every bit betrayed.
“Aw, c’mon guys, I’m not that bad, am I?!”
The following silence feels even more offensive than the last.
“Alright, okay, fuck. I guess that’s fair.”
--
Kuroo officially introduces Hinata to the rest of the team the next day, and while Bokuto and Atsumu were once again beat up for having meddled, it’s okay because they each got an itty-bitty-pity bouquet from the sweet florist.
(Though Atsumu continues to suffer a while longer because he got caught trying to gift flowers to Kuroo’s fiance. That one’s on him.)