Chapter Text
“Dude, I don’t think fudge should go in there.”
“AND I THINK YOU SHOULDN’T TELL ME HOW TO LIVE MY LIFE.”
“Bokuto, you’re not supposed to put fudge directly into a toaster. Or in a toaster. At all.”
“Goddammit Kuroo, just let me live my life, would you?”
Kuroo sighed in defeat before drinking his second cup of coffee this hour. At this point, it was better to just leave Bokuto and his stupid antics be.
“Why are you trying to make fudge anyway, man?” He should at least bother to ask. Maybe this answer wouldn’t lead to one of them hanging off a building like last time. It wasn’t fun.
“It’s for Akaashi.” Bokuto said, sighing dreamily in a daze before he refocused himself on the fudge.
“I thought I told you to stop trying to hook up with our drug dealer.” This was about the third gift Bokuto was trying to give to Akaashi. Note the word trying. By now, the two prior refusals and the one blunt throwing of the homemade vase Bokuto made would probably get the idea across. But if Bokuto was anything, he was a fighter.
“I can’t help it. He’s so pretty and perfect and pretty.” And a lovesick idiotic. Bokuto was that too.
“And he’s a drug dealer. Don’t forget that.”
“He’s a drug dealer, I’m considered a degenerate to society. It’s meant to be Kuroo. It’s meant to be!” He threw his hands up in the air, consequently throwing the spoon he had across the room, and then climbed onto one of the kitchen chairs.
“He threw that horrible handmade vase you made out of a third story window.” Kuroo said while getting and stretching. He had his philosophy class today, right? It should be Tuesday, but he did spend a week thinking everyday was a Tuesday once. It was a very drunk week.
Kuroo moved through their shared dorm apartment, trying not to step onto any of the gross oddities that littered the floor. Oh, there’s that pizza from last week. Or maybe it was the one from three months ago. He wasn’t going to check.
“At least I don’t have a creepy, stalkerish crush on a guy in my philosophy class. I mean, I don’t take philosophy, but that isn’t the point.” Kuroo wasn’t sure how he made it back to the kitchen so fast to throw a whiffle ball at Bokuto’s head, but he did it anyway.
“It is not a creepy, stalkerish crush, you ass. I just happen to like his aesthetic. Which is much better compared to your obsession over a guy who sells fucking drugs for a living. “Kuroo hissed at Bokuto before turning back to his room to get ready for the day.
“Not creepy crush, my ass.” Bokuto mumbled before being pelted in the ass with a rubber football.
-----
Kuroo did not have a creepy crush on the boy in his philosophy class. Kuroo just appreciated a pretty, gorgeous, amazingly adorable, and perfect face when he saw one. And if Kozume Kenma, the incredibly adorable and attractive boy in Kuroo’s class happened to have that sort of face, Kuroo felt that he should be able to appreciate it from a respectable distance without his friend’s judgements. And no, it wasn’t the least bit creepy.
Okay, Kuroo could admit, it seemed a bit creepy, but he never spent the whole class staring at Kozume. Nor did he ever invade Kozume’s personal space to talk to him. He wasn’t that desperate.
Which is why he totally doesn’t try to look his best for this specific class to impress Kozume. And not why he changes his outfit an average of about three times practices pickup lines in front of the mirror in case Kozume ever does talk to him. Not like he would be able to actually say any of them to Kozume. It was more likely that he would choke on his own spit and pass out in front of him.
Kuroo got to class five minutes early like he always did. He sits at his normal desk, the desk that was exactly five seats away from Kozume. Only five seats and a row in front of him. It’s the perfect place to appreciate the cute bundle of shyness that was Kozume Kenma. Kozume always should up after Kuroo, exactly two minutes before the class was to begin. He always walked into the class slowly, as if testing the waters and making sure nothing would explode. He climbed the stairs to his seat, took out the proper materials for the class, and used his phone until the professor would begin for the day.
Kuroo found the repetitiveness a bit cute, as if Kozume was making sure nothing would go wrong. Kuroo normally spent the class trying to build up the courage to talk to him, or say hi. It normally didn’t work at all, but he liked to believe the effort to even think about talking to Kozume made up for the fact he became a nervous wreck when he was even near him.
But the class went way to his fast for his liking today. He hardly had any time to build up courage, and the professor had given them too much to focus on during the class. He didn’t even get a chance to go through the normal thoughts of ‘You can do it Kuroo.’ To ‘You will spaz out, piss your pants, and die right in front of him. Do not do it.’ This class went so fast, he didn’t even begin the cycling of his thoughts. Or at least it was the excuse he was telling himself this time.
He gathered up his things slowly, like he normally did. Which was totally not because Kozume was always one of the last people to leave the class. He always kept a distance of five feet, but it was the only time he was able to get closer to Kozume then his normal five desks and a row behind. He held his breath every second until they went their separate ways from the class.
He knew it was stupid of him to act this way because of one stupid crush, but Kozume just brought out the stupid in him. The romantic stupid. He could be idiotic stupid on his own, sometimes with Bokuto’s help.
-----
His apartment didn’t seem anymore in order than he was when he came back. It was worse actually. Especially if he took in the fact that smoke, screams, and the shrill shrieks from the smoke alarm were coming from the kitchen.
“YOU DON’T FUCKING PUT FUDGE IN A TOASTER, YOU IDIOIT.”
“HOW WAS I SUPPOSE TO KNOW THAT?”
“YOU DON’T EVEN NEED TO COOK FUDGE.”
“Guys, please. You shouldn’t be screaming so loud. The neighbors are going to complain again.”
“OUR KITCHEN NEARLY CAUGHT ON FIRE AND IS CURRENTLY FILLED WITH SMOKE BECAUSE THIS NUMBSKULL OF AN OWL DECIDED TO PUT FUDGE DIRECTLY INTO A TOASTER. OOF COURSE I’M GOING TO SCREAM.”
Kuroo was caught between running out before he had to experience Sawamura’s wrath and Asahi’s trembling, or helping Bokuto out of the fucking mess he caused. When the smoke alarm started to go off twice as loud, he decided to at least try and ease the tension of the situation.
Walking into the kitchen, his three roommates were, more or less, in various states of panic. Azumane Asahi, the most sensible of his roommates, stood next to the toaster, trying to fan the smoke that was coming out of it towards the open window. Bokuto Kotarou, his best and most idiotic friend since high school, was held in a painful looking headlock by none other than Sawamura Daichi.
“What have I told you about being such a moron?” Sawamura growled as his headlock seemed to turn tighter around Bokuto’s neck, judging by the way Bokuto winced.
“I wasn’t being a moron. I just wanted to make fudge.” Bokuto’s voice was raspy, while his hands were clinging to Sawamura’s arm, trying, and failing, to pull off the arm cutting off his oxygen supply.
“YOU DO NOT COOK FUDGE.”
Kuroo gave a loud cough, all the attention in the room focusing on him now.
“Well then. This looks like a mess.
-----
“He’s making fudge for our drug dealer?” Sawamura asked Kuroo, as he violently stared the cowering Bokuto down.
The smoke situation was quickly resolved with several smacks of a now charred towel, a sack of floor hey had lying around, and a toss out of the window to hide the evidence. Asahi was currently sitting in the corner, trying not to hyperventilate. Sawamura and Bokuto were sitting at opposite sides of the kitchen table, Kuroo sitting between them, with his normal armor of a pot as a helmet and a baking sheet as a shield. He had bought them for this specific purpose.
“Akaashi is a human with emotions like anyone else. I bet he will appreciate a gif of fudge.” Bokuto crossed his arms and pouted, obviously not understanding how stupid he sounded.
“He threw one of your gifts out a third story window. It fell into a trash can. He didn’t say sorry. He just said oops.” Sawamura said all of this slowly, as if it would actually make Bokuto use his brain if he said it at a snail’s pace.
“I told him that this morning.” Sawamura stopped glaring at Bokuto to turn his gaze to Kuroo, eyes gone to a complete blank.
“So you mean you saw him pour fudge in our toaster.” He said through gritted teeth. Any noise instantly seemed to stop, even Asahi’s deep breathing. Kuroo felt as if there was an oppressive weight on his shoulders, Sawamura’s stare slowly turning into a death glare.
“Heh, well you see Sawamura. Well, you know I’d love to answer that question b-but well…” All three pairs of eyes in the room were on him now, and he couldn’t control the nervous smile on his face.
“Kuroo.”
“I GOT WORK, SEE YA GUYS.” Kuroo stood up as quick as he could, dropping his armor. He ran to the door, opening it and slamming it behind him as he made a run for it.
He could hear Sawamura’s howls from down the hall. Maybe he’ll be calmer when Kuroo comes back.
Hopefully.
-----
“Be prepared for my funeral, because I’m dead.” Was the first thing Kuroo said as he talked into the back room of the bar he worked at.
“Yeah, I know, y hair looks great today. Thanks.” Oikawa Tooru said, his coworker, much to his hatred.
“I didn’t say anything about your hair.” Kuroo rolled his eyes and resisted the urge to punch Oikawa while putting his jacket away.
“Oh really? I didn’t notice.” Oikawa looked at him before returning back to the mirror on the door.
“Really, how has someone not punched you in the face yet?” Kuroo mumbled before leaving the back room and entering the actual bar. If there was one thing Kuroo was good at, other than being awesome, bar tending was it. He worked quickly and efficiently, much to the owner’s pleasure, while being able to hold conversations with everyone and anyone. He was just that awesome.
Especially when there was no one actually here. Really, Kuroo hated the afternoon shift. Barely anyone goes out to bar at 5 in the afternoon. So he stood behind the bar, washing glasses and serving the occasional poor looking bastard that ambled in.
About three hours later, business had finally picked up. Kuroo was whirring around the bar, serving one customer after another. He enjoyed working at this nightclub, he enjoyed talk to people and impressing them with the tricks he could do. Oikawa had finally joined him at one point, being the normal attention lover that he was.
“Kenma, put down the game. We didn’t come here for you to play more video games.” Kuroo turned his head towards the direction of the voice. It was Kozume Kenma. The exact one he had a not obsessive crush on.
He was pouting at a red headed boy, one that was even shorter than Kozume. The red head held a 3DS protective in his grasp, keeping it away from Kozume, who was reaching for it in an almost childlike way.
“Shouyou, please.” Kozume was pouting in such a cute way, that he could ask Kuroo to kill a man he would do it, much less give him back a 3DS.
“Kenma, no. We’re here to have fun, not for you to do what you always do at the dorms.”
“So why don’t you give me my game back, and I got to the dorms?”
The red head apparently named Shouyou groaned before plopping down at one of the bar stools, Kozume sitting next to him. Kuroo nearly cheered when he noticed they were sitting in his area instead of Oikawa’s.
“Can we get two shots of tequila?” Shouyou asked him.
“Sure, but I kind of need to see ID first.” Kuroo chuckled as he turned towards them.
“We’re both legal ago though.” Shouyou said, pouting at Kuroo. Kozume only shrugged, not interested in the conversation at all.
“And you’re both a little on the, uh. Short. Side.” Kuroo smirked at the red headed shortie, whose pout only grew poutier. He reached into his pocket, probably to pull out his wallet, and nudged Kozume to do the same. They both pulled out their IDs and handed them over to Kuroo. An idea popped into Kuroo’s head. It was finally a chance for him to talk to Kozume. Finally. Finallllllyyy.
“Kozume Kenma?” He asked in a way that he hoped sounded surprised, but it was quite possible that he sounded incredibly pathetic. The blond nodded looking at Kuroo confused, while the red head looked between the both of them, surprise written on his face. He looked a bit like an overwhelmed puppy.
“We go to the same college. You’re in my philosophy class.” Kuroo felt like getting on his knees and praying that Kozume remembered him, otherwise the plan would be a bust. Kozume looked at him in a daze, as if going through his memoires for Kuroo’s face, until he seemed to lighten in remembrance the tiniest bit.
“Oh. Yeah, I know you.” Kuroo grinned at him before offering his head.
“Kuroo Tetsurou.” Kozume looked at his hand before shaking it awkwardly, then drawing his hand back right away.
“And I’m Hinata Shouyou.” The red head popped back into Kuroo’s line of sight and give him a big smile. “I’m Kenma’s best friend.”
“Who needs friends when they take your 3DS.” Kenma grumbled under his breath loud enough for Kuroo to hear. Kuroo laughed under his breath as he turned to get them their shots.
“You need friends because you would never leave you dorm otherwise.”
When Kuroo turned back to give them their drinks, Hinata was pulling on Kozume’s arm, trying to pull the boy off of the stool. Kuroo placed the two glasses in front of them, wondering what Hinata was trying to pull off.
“Kenma come onnnnnnn. Let’s go danceeeee.”
“I don’t dance.” Kozume said as he picked up the glass and… well, all Kuroo could describe was sniff at it. Kenma actually sniffed his drink. Hinata, on the other hand, drowned the shot then stared Kozume down intensely.
“You are not getting High School Musical on me, oh no. You’re going to stop sniffing your drink and actually drink it. You’re going to join me on the dance floor, then we’re going to dance our hearts out and get wasted till we puke.” Hinata and Kozume stared each other right in the eyes, seemingly at each other’s throats.
It seemed that they would sit there for hours staring each other down. Or at least until Kuroo had to kick them out. Yet Kozume blinked and Hinata cheered, so Kuroo just assumed that this was some special, short person ritual of theirs. Kozume groaned and grabbed the shot. He gave Hinata a pouty look before drinking the tequila. Hinata cheered a bit too loud, even for a club, then pulled Kozume on the already packed dance floor.
But Kuroo didn’t pay much attention to that. What he was paying attention to, was the fact that this gave him a potential reason to talk to Kozume. Kuroo was finally given a chance.
Hallelujah.