Chapter Text
Damn, Kuroo thought. This sucks.
He huffed out a frustrated sigh, setting his paintbrush in water before leaning back on his hands from where he sat cross-legged on the floor. He squinted at the painting set up on his artboard, which was propped up against the wall, and pursed his lips as peppy J-pop continued to play through his headphones, seemingly mocking his irritation. His gaze flicked between the different reference pictures taped up on the wall around the artboard before closing his eyes and leaning his head back. He stayed that way for a few moments before jumping as his headphones were ripped off his head, and his eyes shot open to stare up at Kenma glaring down at him.
“I can’t tell if you were deliberately ignoring me or if you actually couldn’t hear me,” Kenma muttered, returning the headphones to a wide-eyed Kuroo.
“Deliberately ignoring, of course,” Kuroo replied, setting his headphones around his neck and turning to look at Kenma. “Did you need something?”
“So I take it you didn’t actually hear what I said,” Kenma sighed, shoving his hands in his hoodie pocket. “That film major I told you about is coming over in a few minutes. The one I’m considering hiring to edit my streams down into YouTube videos.”
“Oh, right,” Kuroo replied, not sure what that had to do with him. Kenma glanced around at his work area before tentatively nudging a paint-covered towel with his foot.
“Can you make the living room not look like… this?”
“What’s wrong with this?” Kuroo asked innocently, as if he hadn’t converted their apartment living room into a paint studio over the past couple of weeks.
“It looks sloppy.”
“You look sloppy. You guys are gonna be in your room anyway, aren’t you?” Kuroo muttered, though he’d already started packing his stuff up. He’d never tell Kenma, but he was glad for the break; he’d almost reached his limit for the day anyway.
“You’re so right Kuroo. You totally owned me. I’m not sure I’m ever gonna recover from that,” Kenma replied, voice dripping with sarcasm as he sauntered away toward his room.
Kuroo was making his way to the kitchen to dump out his paint water and wash his brushes when a knock came at the door. He set his stuff down on the counter and made his way over.
“I got it,” he yelled over his shoulder to Kenma, who he heard slowly making his way out of his room.
Kuroo pulled the door open while still looking over his shoulder.
“You’re here for Kenma, right? He’s on his way-” Kuroo froze when he turned towards the person in the doorway. Standing before him was Bokuto Koutarou, looking adorable as ever and blinking owlishly up at him.
“Kuroo?” He asked, confused. “Oh... did I get the wrong place?” He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. Kuroo watched his bicep flex as he did so, and found himself tracing a line with his eyes across his shoulders and back up to Bokuto’s face, only to find him avoiding his gaze.
“Uh, are you here for Kenma?” Kuroo asked, scratching his jaw awkwardly. He saw Bokuto’s gaze flick up to his hand for a moment before he nodded, the tips of his ears turning pink. Kuroo felt his stomach flip at the sight.
“Bokuto,” Kenma interjected, finally making it to the front of the apartment after what felt like hours. “Sorry about my roommate, he’s an idiot. Come on in.”
Kuroo glared at the back of Kenma’s head as he walked away before opening the door wider to let Bokuto in.
“Thanks,” he muttered, and Kuroo noticed the way he tried not to touch him as he walked by.
Kuroo shut the door and turned to find Kenma giving them both a disgruntled look.
“Do you two know each other or something?” He asked, and Kuroo cringed thinking that the awkwardness was that noticeable.
“Um,” Bokuto said, finally sparing Kuroo a sideways glance. Kuroo figured he should save Bokuto the embarrassment.
“This is the guy I was tutoring in chemistry last semester,” Kuroo mumbled, and Kenma’s eyes widened before his mouth split into an amused grin.
“Oh my god, awesome. God, I wonder if Keiji knew that... unfortunately, as fucking hilarious as that is, you guys are gonna have to deal with that mess when I’m done with Bokuto. Let’s go to my room,” Kenma directed the last bit at Bokuto, who started and nodded before following Kenma down the hall, sparing one last glance over his shoulder at Kuroo, who just stared dumbly after them until they disappeared into Kenma’s room.
Kuroo made his way over to the couch and sank into it with a groan, running his hands over his face. His traitor stomach was still doing weird things after seeing the tips of Bokuto’s ears turn pink, and he had to try very hard to suppress some correlated memories that would turn tonight into a more awkward situation than it already was. Kuroo peeled his eyes open, suddenly feeling motivated to work on his project more. As much as he was dreading it, it would be a welcome distraction from what just happened. After retrieving his stuff back from the kitchen, Kuroo sank back down to the floor, pulled on his headphones, and got back to work.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kenma was talking, but Bokuto was only half listening. He’d decided to accept the job if it was offered to him before he came since Kenma was dating his roommate, Akaashi, and he already knew that they’d work well together. Now he was wondering if Akaashi had something else in mind when he’d told him his boyfriend needed an editor; had he and Kenma realized their roommates had hooked up? Was the whole thing a set-up to get him to run into Kuroo again? Or did Akaashi just think editing a famous streamer’s videos was a good opportunity for a film student (which it was)?
Mostly, Bokuto was thinking about the first time he’d seen Kuroo in their chemistry class, and how badly he’d wanted Kuroo’s ring-covered-black-polished hands all over him. Mostly, Bokuto was remembering finding out that Kuroo had the highest grades in their class after his own grade dipped below passing, and being excited about using the opportunity to ask him for tutoring. Mostly, Bokuto was thinking about their library study sessions, how Kuroo was always waiting for him after his last class, a smirk on his face and an extra coffee in hand, only to find out after hours and days of studying together that Kuroo was actually a huge dork, and that Bokuto really liked that about him.
Mostly, Bokuto was definitely trying very hard NOT to think about the last study session they had before their final, how they went to Bokuto’s apartment to study instead of the library since Akaashi wasn’t home anyway, how sitting on his bedroom floor with their books scattered about turned into both of them in his bed tangled together and drifting off to sleep after Bokuto had finally gotten Kuroo’s hands exactly where he’d wanted them.
More than anything, Bokuto was trying not to remember how he felt when he woke up the next morning to find Kuroo gone, disappearing out of his life until just a few minutes ago. From May to August, a whole 4 months, he had no clue what’d happened. What he’d done wrong.
“What do you think, Bokuto?” Kenma asked, looking unenthusiastic, as though he’d noticed Bokuto had stopped listening a while ago.
“I’m sorry, I missed the last part of what you said,” Bokuto laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck.
Kenma blinked at him, looking bored. “Honestly Bo, I was really glad to hear you were interested in this job. You already know what my temperament can be like-” Bokuto chuckled. “-and I trust your judgement and work ethic. I know how much you care about your work. So this talk tonight was mostly a formality. However,” Kenma raised his eyebrows, glancing at the door in an annoyed way. “I was unaware that you were the guy Kuroo was moping about last semester. If that’s gonna be an issue I need to know that now. I’d really like to work with you on this, so if it’s a problem I’m just gonna kick him out from time to time while we work. He’s got friend’s places he can stay at.”
Bokuto felt a pang of guilt in his gut. This was Kuroo’s place, it wasn’t his fault that the universe apparently wanted them both to suffer. If last semester was anything to go by, Kuroo didn’t want to see him anymore, so it was just as inconvenient for him as it was Bokuto.
“No, it’s okay. I can be professional,” Bokuto gave Kenma a weak smile, who furrowed his brows in return. Suddenly, it registered in Bokuto’s head that Kenma had said Kuroo had been moping about him, and the shock of that pushed his next sentence out of his mouth before reason could stop it.
“So he’s mentioned me then?”
Kenma scoffed. “Only like, on a daily basis. He was being really gross and sappy for that month you guys were hanging out. Then he suddenly got all dejected and just said he’d messed things up. Which, by the way you reacted when you saw him, I now see that he wasn’t exaggerating. Can I ask what he did?”
Bokuto muttered a soft ‘oh’, his heart sinking at Kenma’s description of what happened. He couldn’t picture Kuroo like that at all; sure, he’d thought maybe Kuroo liked him for a while, but then he ghosted him and Bokuto figured he’d misconstrued the situation.
“We, uh, hooked up at the end of the semester, and he stopped talking to me after,” Bokuto mumbled, feeling his shoulders sag a little.
Kenma’s face twisted in annoyance. “Ew, typical.”
Bokuto looked up, confused and now slightly worried that he’d gotten played.
“Does he… do that a lot?” Bokuto asked, chewing on his bottom lip.
“No,” Kenma muttered. “He’s just the King of self-sabotage. He was depressed over something he did to himself. That’s what’s typical.”
“Oh…” Bokuto furrowed his brow, thinking for a bit. “Maybe he decided he didn’t actually like me and was upset he wasted his time?”
Kenma looked at Bokuto like he’d grown a third head. “Dude, no. You’re literally way too good for him and he knows that. He probably got all up in his head about something.” Kenma looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully before turning to face Bokuto again. “Anyway, we don’t have to talk about that anymore if you don’t want to. If it’s really not going to be an issue then I won’t get rid of him when you’re coming over, but if you change your mind let me know. And I appreciate you being willing to come over here so late.”
“Yeah, no problem” Bokuto replied, gathering his stuff as he sensed the end of the conversation.
“I don’t think there’s any reason for me to put this off; I’d already decided before you got here that unless something crazy happened I was going to hire you. Which, I guess something crazy did happen, but…” Kenma shrugged. “Good editors are hard to find, so we’ll make do.”
Bokuto felt a beam make its way onto his face, his mood immediately soaring back up. “Thank you so much for the opportunity Kenma, I really appreciate it.” Bokuto said happily, standing up as he did so.
“Of course. Do you want me to walk you out?”
“No, I think I’ve got it. Thank you though! I’ll see you next weekend!”
“Yeah, see you then Bokuto. Say hi to Keiji for me.”
Bokuto gave Kenma one last wave as he headed out, shutting the bedroom door behind him. He was still grinning happily as he walked back out into the living room, but froze when he saw Kuroo sitting on the floor in the corner of the room. In front of him was a half-finished painting, which he was working on as he hummed under his breath. Bokuto watched the hands he’d admired so much gently support a small paintbrush as Kuroo added thin veins to some kind of plant. He could faintly hear upbeat J-pop trickling from his headphones; he chuckled at the idea that Kuroo listened to pop music and almost thought it was cute before stopping the thought in its tracks. He really couldn’t go through the emotional turmoil the spring semester had caused him all over again; he needed to stop liking Kuroo if he was going to start working here. And that, he decided, started with a polite (but well deserved) cold shoulder.
At least, it would’ve if Kuroo hadn’t turned around at that exact moment and seen Bokuto staring at him in his one self-allotted moment of weakness.
They stared at each other for a moment before Kuroo broke the silence.
“Oh, uh, hey,” he said, pulling his headphones off and setting his brush in water. “Did you guys finish already?”
“Um, yeah,” Bokuto replied, rubbing his neck as he tore his eyes away from Kuroo’s face. “I was just heading out. We aren’t actually starting until next weekend.”
“Cool,” Kuroo replied, and Bokuto could still feel him staring at him despite having his own eyes glued to the couch.
“Yeah…” He said awkwardly.
Don’t engage with him, it’s not worth it. Just leave.
“I’ve never seen any of your work before.”
What the fuck is wrong with you.
“Oh, yeah… this is far from my best work,” Kuroo replied, his mouth curling in annoyance. “I don’t usually paint, but I had to take a painting class as a prerequisite this semester.”
“What do you usually do then?” Bokuto asked, mad at himself for being genuinely curious about the answer. He remembered Kuroo mentioning he was an art student, but couldn’t remember if he’d ever said what kind.
“I’m a commercial art major. So like, after I graduate I’ll be making advertisements and signs for shops and stuff like that,” Kuroo said, his gaze shifting from Bokuto over to the painting. “So I’m sure what I’m learning will be useful to some extent, but… I really hate painting.”
Bokuto hummed in response, shifting his own gaze over to the painting. He didn’t think it was bad at all, but then again, he was never very good at visual arts; his storyboards for class were always stick figures or people with balloon limbs.
“Well,” Bokuto hesitated, and Kuroo turned back to face him. Bokuto finally looked at Kuroo for the first time since he’d opened the door for him earlier. “I- I think it looks nice so far.”
Kuroo’s face softened and Bokuto watched with surprise as his cheeks flushed slightly. Kuroo tore away from his gaze, scratching at his jaw as he looked at the rug by the couch. It was quiet for a moment, and the room felt heavier than it did before Bokuto had said anything.
“Listen, Bokuto...” He started, and Bokuto felt his eyes widen.
“Um, actually,” Bokuto stammered, spurred into action by what he sensed was an oncoming confrontation. “I just remembered Akaashi wanted me to pick up dinner, so I have to go.”
“Oh, uh, yeah, sure,” Kuroo said, sounding taken aback by Bokuto’s outburst. Bokuto glanced over to see Kuroo watching him again, looking slightly crestfallen.
“If you’re around next weekend I’ll probably see you then,” Bokuto said. “Because I’ll be here to work,” he added nervously, making his way over to the door.
“Right,” Kuroo replied, giving Bokuto a small smile as he turned to open the door. “See you around, Bo.”
Bokuto shivered slightly at the nickname, electing to ignore Kuroo as he shut the door behind him. He made it all the way to the staircase of the outdoor hallway before slowing to a stop, leaning on the exterior railing and letting his head fall forward. He stared down the twisting flights below him and finally let his feelings from tonight wash over him. How his stomach had flipped when Kuroo first opened the door, looking exactly the same as before but with his sideburns grown out (which, if Bokuto was being honest, was kind of hot), how stupidly easy it’d been to fall back into conversation with him, how nice it was to hear him say his name, how he’d looked sad when Bokuto said he had to leave…
Bokuto let out a frustrated groan. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Kuroo still looked so good, and acted so sweet, and apparently was moping about him, when Bokuto was the one left alone that morning, in a bed long cold, wondering what he could’ve done better, thinking ‘maybe he’ll text me’, just to see Kuroo in the exam room a couple days later and be blatantly ignored.
Bokuto let himself wallow in self-pity for a few moments longer before straightening up and making his way down the stairs. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear Kuroo out yet, or what he’d do if he did.
For now, he’d settle on going back home and grilling Akaashi to see if he knew the whole time what exactly he was sending Bokuto into tonight.