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listen to inspiration/BGM my favorite things here *crawls away*
The end of Tsukishima’s shift that week was congratulated by a loud whooping man bursting in through the front doors of the bar, his clothing clinging to his body and dripping wet as if he had just walked out of a waterfall.
“Kuroo! Kuroo, check it out! It’s a total storm outside, bro!” The drummer and now extremely-wet man, who Tsukishima had learned was called Bokuto, yelled and waved his hand in the air.
“What in the world are you doing, Bokuto-san? You really are something.” Akaashi sighed loudly and stripped himself of his blazer. “Please dry yourself off a little, you’re causing trouble for the bar owners by getting water all over the place.”
“A-Ahh, yeah. Thanks, Akaashi.” He grinned and started wiping his face and hair with the blazer offered to him.
Kuroo just snickered from where he sat at the bar table across from Tsukishima. It seemed to be a habitual thing now. “That moron. He was totally waiting for Akaashi to fawn over him like he always does.”
Tsukishima just raised an eyebrow. “So his stupidity is based on attention-seeking.” Then his face dropped a moment later. “Wait, it’s raining?”
The vocalist whistled lowly as Bokuto demanded that Akaashi help dry his hair from the front mat. “Looks like a storm. Wasn’t pouring at all when we got here.”
Newly-recruited bass player Oikawa sighed and swirled his martini glass. “My, what a pain. Shall we call Sawamura-chan to drop us off tonight? Though in this weather it wouldn’t be strange to see a total traffic jam at the stations.”
“Yeah, get on it, would you?” Kuroo gave Oikawa a hearty slap on the back before turning back to Tsukishima, who must have had a too-noticeable sour look on his face. “Hey, what’s up? Didn’t bring an umbrella?”
He stiffened slightly and quickly returned to wiping the glasses. “…No. It didn’t seem like there were any signs of a storm at all tonight, so I left it at home.”
“Well, Koushi probably isn’t gonna be with Daichi tonight, so why don’t you come over for a while?” Kuroo leaned his chin into his palm with that same aggravating grin. “Least until the storm passes.”
Honestly, he wasn’t as surprised as he thought he would be for him to make such an offer. He even had a response half-ready.
“That won’t be necessary.” He replied as calmly as he could and wiped his damp hands on his apron. “I only live ten minutes away. I can make it just fine if I walk.”
“You sure? It’s coming down pretty hard. Daichi should be here in around five to ten minutes.”
“I’ll be fine.” The blonde stressed the last word especially hard before pulling on his jacket to leave. He shot Kuroo a glare when he followed him to the front door, but the latter simply shrugged with that same grin on his face.
When Tsukishima pushed open the door, he was shocked that his glasses didn’t end up flying off his face from the intense wind that had pushed itself into the doorway and whipped his clothing back. The world was barely even recognizable from the streaks of rain pounding against the ground and the mist shrouding everything into gray only a few feet away. It was like someone had turned up the gravity by five thousand times. The street lamps were still on, of course, but all he could make out were blurred blobs of orange light from where he stood.
“Still think you’ll be fine?” Kuroo had to raise his voice a bit to be heard over the wind, and Tsukishima tightened his jaw.
“Yes.” He lied.
“Alrighty then. See you next week, Tsukki.” The black-haired man simply grinned again in response to the sharp glare he received.
Kei tried to walk through the storm. He really, truly did. In fact, he was almost halfway down the sidewalk until a hand grabbed at his arm and tugged him back to the bar. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see a wild mane of now-dripping black hair leading him to the safety of a roof.
“Dammit, that was painful to watch. What were you thinking, you idiot?” Kuroo groaned and squeezed at the hem of his shirt, making another little puddle on the carpet. “Shit, I’m freezing.” He hissed and rubbed at his arms. His dress shirt was nearly see-through at this point and Tsukishima averted his eyes from his torso in general out of decency.
“I didn’t need you to come and get me.” The bartender grumbled and attempted to wipe his glasses with a sopping wet shirt.
“Jeez, don’t be so stubborn now, of all times. I saved you from getting swept away into a sewer.” Kei squeezed one eye shut as Kuroo’s hand rose up to tousle his damp, curly hair. “Just be good and wait for Daichi to get here, why don’t you.”
Kuroo turned to yell to Oikawa: “Hey, Oikawa! Go call Iwaizumi to pick you up! I’m taking Tsukki back with me!”
Oikawa looked as though someone had dropped a brick on his head. “You’re leaving your bass player behind for a bartender?! So cold!”
Kuroo just snickered at that. “Sorry,” He said unapologetically.
“Really, you don’t need to-” Tsukishima began before getting cut off.
“Ah, it’s nothing. Iwaizumi’s good with Oikawa, so hopefully he won’t be too pissed at him for making him drive out in a storm to a bar at two in the morning.”
“He’s going to be pissed.”
“He will.”
After a few minutes of shivering and avoiding Kuroo’s hugs that he claimed would “let them share some body heat”, Akaashi glanced at his cell phone and stood up with Bokuto right by his side. “Sawamura-san is here. Everyone prepare your apologies, I doubt he’s very pleased.”
“Craaaaaap! What should we do?! I still don’t think he forgives me for the mayo slap I pulled on him last week!” Bokuto rubbed at his head with both hands as if to massage his brain back into action.
“Ah, I’ll tell him next drink’s on us and he won’t be so sour about it.” Kuroo waved it off and stood up to leave. “C’mon, Tsukki.”
He frowned at his knees, still staying seated on a chair by the counter. “…Are you sure I can-”
“Yes. Now hurry up and come with me, will you?” The blonde opened his mouth to protest, but his throat seemed to close in on itself when Kuroo grabbed his hand and pulled him up and outside.
“Yo, Daichi!” Kuroo cheerfully greeted (almost sang) when he opened the door to the car. “Thanks for coming all the way out here, man! Mind if we get to my place first? I’ve got Tsukki with me tonight.”
A somewhat-intimidating laugh rumbled from the front seat, and a vein was nearly popping out of Daichi’s forehead as he turned around with an eerie smile. “You’re very welcome, Kuroo. Now hurry up and get in or I’m leaving you behind.”
“’Cuse me!” Bokuto crowed as he plopped himself into the front seat and the remaining three boys squished into the back with Kuroo sandwiched in the middle.
“You guys are soaked.” Daichi sighed. “Don’t tell me you tried to go out in this storm.”
“I’ll wipe the seats after, Sawamura-san.” Akaashi bowed his head lightly. The pianist was the only one who was still relatively dry after the whole ordeal.
“It’s fine. But you guys owe me ten drinks after this, got it? Ten.” Daichi had this very captain-like tone to his voice that even made Kei want to shut up and obey everything he said.
"Yessir!” Kuroo saluted quite casually.
“…I’m sorry to trouble you.” Tsukishima quietly apologized as the car started up and began to plow down the near-empty streets.
As Bokuto babbled on to Daichi about how great the show was that night and how he met a really pretty girl who was totally into him (though Akaashi pointed out that it was only because she wanted to know what hair products he used), Kuroo was surprisingly quiet, and Tsukishima glanced down at their hands; still wrapped around one another since he had left the bar.
“Why are you still holding my hand?” The blonde asked with a slight frown on his features.
“Just felt like it. Do you hate it?” Kuroo ran a thumb over his knuckles, and Tsukishima nearly jumped.
“…Your palms are sweaty.” He turned away to hide the light reddening of his cheeks.
Kei could nearly hear the smirk in his voice. “And yours are any better?”
“You two, quit flirting.” Daichi called, making Tsukishima almost melt into his seat in shame. “After this turn, we’re at your apartment, Kuroo.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just pull up here, will you? You’re the best, Daichi.”
“So you keep telling me until you’re drunk and falling asleep everywhere.” He shot back and turned into the driveway.
“It’s not as far as I thought.” Tsukishima noted.
“Well, it’s more convenient for everyone, right?” Kuroo smiled as they stopped outside the lobby. “Thanks, Daichi! Love you.”
“Don’t be disgusting.” He deadpanned back before sighing. “Jeez. Who knows how long I’m going to chaperone you guys every Saturday? Suga’s probably worried sick about you all.”
“Aw, tell him he’s got nothing to worry about. Night.” Kuroo laughed, though he stopped once Tsukishima pulled his hand away to exit the car.
Kei bowed once more. “Thank you very much, goodnight.”
“Yeah, no problem. See you later.” Daichi waved and Akaashi and Bokuto followed suit before the door slammed shut and the car soon disappeared into the thick layers of fog surrounding the building.
“Ah, shit, let’s hurry and get inside before my hands fall off.” Kuroo rushed over to the front lobby doors and pushed his key inside. He made casual greetings to the lobby attendant before pulling Tsukishima into an elevator and hitting the fourth floor button. The apartment itself wasn’t big, but it was rather well-furnished and shiny inside.
It felt strange for some reason. When the elevator doors opened, Kuroo made a grab for his hand again to pull him down the hallway to his flat. As they both shivered, Kei kept his eyes pointed at the blue carpet under them and at their hands. Why didn’t he just ask Sawamura-san to drop him off at his own apartment? Perhaps it was because Kuroo had already crashed at his place before, so this wasn’t as odd as it should have been.
“Aaand we’re here! Finally.” Kuroo sighed in relief as he pushed the door open and flicked on the lights. “Sorry for the mess.”
The first thing that struck him was that it was cleaner than he expected, and smelled like coffee. The inside layout was a mix of reds, browns, and blacks, and it almost felt like walking into fall.
“Here, get inside, I’ll turn on the heat and make some coffee or something. Wait, actually, stay here, I’ll get you a towel and a change of clothes. Or do you wanna take a shower first?” Kuroo seemed surprisingly flustered, letting go of his hand at last to pat down his clothing, kick off his shoes, and run inside.
“Uh, no, you can go first-”
“Ah, what the heck are you doing, get in here, you’re gonna freeze!” Kuroo nearly sounded desperate, rushing back around the corner to grab his wrist and pull him in further.
“You’re the one who told me to stay there.” He mumbled back, feeling a prick of irritation furrow his brow.
Kuroo completely ignored him as expected, turning the corner down a hallway and into a bedroom with the lights already on. It looked like any other teenage boy’s room; posters on the painted walls, a jersey here and there, a TV on top of his dresser and a large checkered bed. He also had a door that connected to his bathroom from his bedroom, too.
“Uh, here. Towel and clothes. I think my stuff should fit on you, so gimme your clothes later and I’ll throw them in the dryer. I’ll take a shower for now, so just make yourself comfy.” Kuroo waved and slammed the bathroom door shut behind him, suddenly leaving the room in utter silence before Tsukishima could say a word.
“How am I supposed to ‘make myself comfy’ in a place like this…?” He sighed to himself and started to peel off his wet clothing the moment he heard the shower start up on the other side of the door. After he rid himself of his sopping shirt and pants and dumped them into a laundry basket placed at the door (presumably for him) before grabbing the towel lying on the bed and patting himself dry.
He couldn’t quite describe why this uneasy feeling was rising up in his chest. It was fine. It wasn’t like he’d never been in another guy’s room before, but knowing that it was his, Kuroo Tetsurou’s, and it was so simply him, made his nerves stand on end.
Tsukishima bit his lip as he awkwardly pulled on a blue t-shirt that fell past his hips and revealed a bit too much of his collarbones. Luckily the sweatpants Kuroo had lent to him had a drawstring, so he tied a double-knot and prayed for it to stay on properly before quickly running the towel through his hair and stepping outside to peek around the living room.
It certainly was messy here and there, but the kitchen was tidier than he expected and the black couch certainly helped add to the modern style he was going for. What really surprised him was a keyboard, shiny and black, sitting against the wall, immaculate and clearly taken care of. Black cases lined up next to it, one of them distinctly a saxophone. So he wasn’t just a vocalist? The way his curiosity had been piqued was starting to irritate him, too.
Now it was getting too awkward to be anywhere else, so he padded back along the floorboards and back into the bedroom, where he sat down on the bed and picked up his phone. He had just started tapping away to text Yamaguchi when he realized that the texting history between him and Kuroo had started to grow longer, longer than he’d remembered.
Suddenly feeling his cheeks start to prick with heat, he turned the screen off quickly.
Right at that moment, the water stopped and Kuroo stepped out of what seemed to be an extremely hot shower judging from the smoke floating around behind him. Tsukishima almost jumped at the fact that he wasn’t wearing anything more than a pair of black boxers but averted his eyes before he could even get a second thought.
“Yo, the shower’s free now if you wanna take one.” Kuroo wiped at his neck with a small towel around it and walked up to the bed.
“No thanks. I’m fine.” He hadn’t meant to sound so curt about it, but he just felt so uncomfortable for reasons he couldn’t even describe. He looked down at his lap; his fingers had laced themselves together in his nervous habit without him even realizing it.
“Hey, you okay?” Kuroo quirked an eyebrow at him and sat next to him on the bed, mattress dipping with his added weight. “No need to be so nervous.”
“I’m not.” Tsukishima insisted, but scooted a bit farther away from him regardless. “This feels like an abduction.”
“Hmm,” The black-haired man hummed before shifting around on the bed a bit, and by this point Tsukishima was only half-resistant when Kuroo’s arms came wrapping around him and pulling him into his bare chest, making his own heart stutter for a second when he realized that he was resting on his shoulder and close to his neck at this point.
“There we go.” Kuroo was most definitely grinning right now. “Is this any better?”
“Why would it be?” He flatly argued, though he hated how weak he suddenly felt to this. What should he have done with his hands? His mind drew a blank and simply left them to grip at the sheets under them. “…You’re so annoying. How do I always get stuck with you, of all people? Haven’t you ever heard of a thing called personal space?”
“Haven’t you ever heard of a thing called fate?” Kuroo jabbed back teasingly, and Kei began running a string of curses in his head for feeling his face start to warm. He could nearly feel the body heat radiating off of him from the close proximity, and his neck didn’t feel as cold anymore.
“…I didn’t know you played the piano.” The blonde spoke up after a few seconds. Kuroo was rubbing his back now in a frustratingly calming manner.
“Oh, that thing? I haven’t played in years, so I’m probably rusty.”
“And the saxophone.”
“I still keep up with that one, but I take care of them all.”
“If you’re so musically gifted, there’s no need for you to bother playing at some old bar every weekend. There should be plenty of schools that would want you.” The moment his sentence ended, he bit his tongue. That came out wrong, like he was asking, ‘you can do better than where I am, so why here?’
“True, true.” He hummed again. “But I do it because I like it. How many guys do you think have the time, money, and experience to play old jazz with their high school friends every weekend at a bar with an attractive bartender? You gotta take chances when they come or else they’re gone, you know. Nothing good comes out of hesitating.”
“Aren’t you in university right now, though?” He felt so much smaller now, even though he was in his third year of high school. The world of working adults seemed so foreign, millions of light years away from where he stood. And yet, when he held him like this, it felt like that borderline had thinned to only a few centimeters.
“Doesn’t mean I know what I wanna do with the rest of my life.” Kuroo chuckled into his ear. “Hurry and grow up, yeah? It’s busy, but it’s fun being treated like an adult even if you don’t act like it.”
“That’s hilarious coming from the biggest child I know.”
“Don’t be mean, Tsukki.” Kuroo nuzzled his cheek, effectively shutting him up and making his spine shoot up straight.
A comfortable silence fell over the room. His eyelids felt somewhat heavier now, being warmed up by this person and listening to the sound of their breaths mixed with the rain drumming its fingertips on the roof. One soft voice in the back of his mind kept asking:
How do I feel about this person?
Tsukishima blinked out of his daze when he noticed a series of sharp, high notes being hummed by the man in front of him, and vaguely a name came to mind and he said it without thinking:
“…‘The Sound of Music’.”
“Ah, you know it?” His voice raised an octave in curiosity.
“More or less. My family used to watch the film together every Christmas.” What? Where did that come from? Normally he wouldn’t have even brought up such a thing, but the atmosphere was so soft and gentle he felt safe to share it.
“Yeah? Tell me more about it.” Kuroo hummed, urging him to go on.
“…We’d all squish together on the couch with big blankets, and my brother was always in charge of making the popcorn. Dad would sing along horribly and my mom would laugh at me and Nii-chan trying to shut him up. Eventually we forgot all about the movie.”
“That sounds fun. Do you still own it?”
“It’s probably down somewhere in our basement. I haven’t seen it in years, though.”
“Let’s watch it together sometime.”
“If we suddenly show up at my house in search of an old movie in our basement, my mom will be slightly surprised.”
“That’s alright. I’ve been wanting to meet your parents for a long time now, anyway.”
“Why do you keep making it sound like…” Tsukishima trailed off, feeling his eyebrow twitch.
“Like what? Come on, tell me.”
“Like I actually have any liking towards you? You’re so arrogant and-”
“Well, considering that we’ve been sitting like this for almost half an hour now without protest, can I assume that you at least don’t despise me or wish to run me over with a truck?”
“Oh, believe me, I can think of much better ways to inflict pain besides using a truck.” Tsukishima flatly spat back.
Kuroo whistled lowly. “Whoo, you’re into that sort of thing? I had no idea, Tsukki.”
His blood nearly boiled over as he snapped: “Of course that’s not what I meant, you- you- ugh. Never mind.”
The vocalist laughed. “Ah, you’re so cute, Tsukki.”
C-Cute? He was about to say something, but Tsukishima gave up all intentions of fighting back. As deeply as he despised admitting it, he’d won this one. The blonde dropped his forehead to Kuroo’s shoulder and let a small sigh out of his nose.
Sugar-spun words and hair as black as licorice. It was like this entire man’s existence was sickeningly sweet.
What? What was this? Tsukishima blinked. Every time before this, when he had been so close, Kuroo gave off a scent of spicy cologne. But now, as he was nearly nestled into the crook of his shoulder and neck, he smelled something else. Something sweet and just a bit musky. Was it body wash? Or just a natural smell?
He felt the blood rush to his face. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t attractive.
Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Bright copper kettles and warm woolen mittens
Brown paper packages tied up with strings
These are a few of my favorite things.
For the past minute, Kuroo had been lightly singing the nostalgic tune into Tsukishima’s ear. He liked the sound of his voice, after all; or at least when it wasn’t teasing him mercilessly and constantly irritating him.
But he liked the sound of his voice. He liked the way he smelled. He liked the warmth he gave off when he was close.
That was all he liked, right? A million strings were tangling themselves up in his brain.
Still in a light, confused daze, Kei closed his eyes and turned his head slightly to come closer to his neck. His lips softly brushed over Kuroo’s collarbones as he did so.
“W-Whoa!” Kuroo jumped and nearly gave Tsukishima a heart attack when his arms tightened around his back.
“W-What?” He sputtered back, trying to look at him. The rate of his heart had seemingly tripled in speed.
“Uh, nothing, just…” Kuroo’s arms dropped from his waist as he pulled away, just enough so that they were facing each other on the bed now. His hand rose to rub at the back of his neck, but...
“Why are you blushing?” Tsukishima asked incredulously, leaning back and tangling his fingers into the sheets. His palms were starting to get sweaty.
“Oh, ha, like you’re any better!” Kuroo covered half his face with a hand and moved it back to roughly mess up his wild hair. So he wasn’t just imagining it. A light pink hue was starting to spread across Kuroo’s nose and cheeks. The colour looked so strange on him.
Tsukishima wasn’t any better, of course. He could already feel that his ears were just as bright red.
Kuroo must have read his mind (fuck you, Kuroo, you’re not supposed to do that), because he chuckled and pinched at Tsukishima’s left ear. “Even your ears? Dammit, you’re making it hard for me to hold back, you know.”
“Seriously, just because of that…” Kei grumbled in response and batted his hand away.
He was irritated. He was frustrated. Every little thing was making him nervous and it made him angrier than words could describe that he couldn’t figure it out.
He was irritated like never before, and yet when Kuroo whispered something about how he should at least try to look less endearing around him and slid his hand on his cheek, Tsukishima didn’t protest as much as he thought he would. And instead, their lips met in a tender kiss that made some kind of switch deep inside him click and turn warm.
They had never done anything more than this, but this kiss seemed different from the others they had shared. The ones before were teasing and merciless and rude, their only purpose seeming to be to make sure Tsukishima would not forget him; to make sure that every time he saw a red tie or a microphone or a martini glass, Kuroo Tetsurou’s face would appear in his mind.
Something about this one was strange, something ever so out of the ordinary. Was it the hand cupping his cheek? Was it the mildly sweet smell? Was it the quiet atmosphere, the rain, the proximity, the words they had exchanged moments before? It was nothing special, just a press of the lips. But it was so soft, as if the other was afraid he’d break if he applied too much pressure.
It felt different. It wasn’t meant to say “never forget me” like the others had.
When he finally pulled away, Tsukishima finally let out the breath he had been holding. Kuroo’s face was still tinted pink, but that irritating smirk was still there as always.
“You’re horrible,” Tsukishima caught himself mumbling while staring right at him with a scowl. “…Absolutely horrible.”
Kuroo simply chuckled and moved his hand so that his thumb was caressing his cheek. “You’re not exactly convincing with a face that cute and pink.”
“And you get on my nerves. Can you keep your hands off me for even a minute?” He shot back and squirmed away from his touch, suddenly feeling cold just from not being his arms for that split moment.
“Sorry, sorry,” Kuroo laughed, not sounding the least bit sorry at all. “But don’t you know how tempting it is for me? It’s the ones with the lack of interest in me, the attractive ones with bad attitudes and glasses that I want more of, you know.”
Tsukishima’s eyebrow twitched in aggravation. A vein was ready to burst at any moment now. “…Akaashi-san was right about you, I guess.”
Kuroo tilted his head in question. “Akaashi? What’d he say about me?”
“He said that you’re a disgusting old man whose only purpose in life is to irritate the human race and assault younger men. It’s a commonly known fact that you can spend nine to twenty-one years in prison for harassment, Kuroo-san.” Tsukishima pushed his glasses up with two fingers and shot him a deathly glare. “And that you like the ones who ‘play hard to get’.”
“D-Disgusting old man?” His jaw dropped as if he had just been shot in the heart. “I’m not even twenty-one! You little brat!”
As Tsukishima attempted to break out of the headlock that Kuroo had him in, the latter smiled down at him. “Say, why don’t you spend the night?”
“That’s not exactly how you initiate an invitation.”
He ended up staying anyway, of course, in which Kuroo talked his ear off on the opposite side of the bed. Asking things like what he collected, what his favorite food was, what anime did he like, on and on and on. Not that he answered all of them truthfully, or answered them at all.
When the black-haired man finally seemed to drop off to sleep, Tsukishima allowed himself to scoot just a bit closer and trace the line of Kuroo’s face and jaw with a few fingers. And of course, it didn’t take long before he was caught and ended up trapped in his arms for the remainder of the night, with Kuroo gushing on about how cute he was and that if he wanted to touch him he could have just asked (Tsukishima hit him for that).
But comforted by the scent and sound of rain and that warmth coming back once more, he fell asleep faster than he wanted to admit.
In the end, he concluded that ‘curious’ was the proper word to describe how he felt.
Maybe one day he’d learn what Kuroo Tetsurou collected, what his favorite food was, what anime he liked, all the little trivial things that made a person who they were. He was curious, after all.
What were his favorite things? Surely if he asked he’d make a little song out of it.
What were they, anyway? Strangers? Not exactly. Friends? He's kissed him too many times to count as friends.
Somewhere between strangers and friends, then.