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Daichi stopped in his tracks. “Wait, what?”
Suga shot him a lopsided grin. “How did you not know this? He’s got it bad for you. Really, really bad. Like, head-over-heels, love for the ages, birds singing as you get dressed in the morning kind of bad.”
“Kuroo? No.”
“Yes.”
“No!”
“A hundred percent yes!” Suga was laughing at him now. “A thousand, million percent yes!”
Daichi rolled his eyes and shoved his hands into his jacket pockets. The weather was finally beginning to turn, the sharp cold putting colour in his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He should have brought a hat. Suga was decked out in full autumn dress; a cabled knit pullover, fluffy orange scarf, and a pair of flip-top mittens he’d probably made for himself.
They rounded a corner, and Daichi squinted into the sunlight, reflected back at them from the stained-glass windows of the campus refectory. “Give me one good reason why I should believe you.”
Suga smiled wickedly. “I can prove it. Watch this.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket, thumbed through his contacts to find Kuroo and hit ‘Facetime.’
“Stay out of frame, okay?” Suga said as it rang. “Just watch.”
Daichi raised an eyebrow, but he complied.
“Yo, ‘sup Sugawara.” Kuroo’s face lit the screen. Despite the fact that it was early afternoon, he was still in his pyjamas, hair sticking out in all directions. Behind his head, Daichi could see the walls of Kuroo’s dorm room, plastered with posters of various pop-punk bands whose names Daichi didn’t recognize.
Suga smirked. “This is your afternoon wake-up call. C’mon, put some clothes on, we have class in an hour and I want to get lunch first.”
Kuroo groaned. “Do I have to shower too? This is too much work. I’m going back to bed.”
“Showering is optional, but probably in your best interests,” Suga said. He glanced up at Daichi, who was watching from beside him, out of view of the camera. “By the way, Daichi’s here, wanna say hi?”
Kuroo’s head snapped up. He madly ran his hands through his hair, succeeding only in making it wilder. “Jesus, Suga, warn a guy,” said Kuroo, suddenly flustered.
Suga tilted the screen so that Daichi’s face appeared in the tiny window in the top corner. Kuroo instantly turned bright red. Daichi gave him a little wave.
“H-hey Sawamura. I, uh, I gotta go shower. Suga, I’ll see you in class.” The call ended, and the screen went dark.
“Told you,” said Suga. He looked far too smug about it.
“Okay,” Daichi said slowly, “that was… weird. Maybe you’re right.”
Suga shoved his phone back in his pocket and crossed his arms. “I am so incredibly right about this. You really need to ask him out.”
“Suga!”
“What? You trust me, don’t you? And I know for a fact that you think he’s attractive, so why not?”
Daichi bit his lip. Suga was right, Kuroo was hot. And into Daichi. But he was also, well, Kuroo. A renowned prankster, an occasional dickhead, and far too confident for his own good.
He thought for a moment. “This supposed crush. How big are we talking?”
“Like extra, ultra-massive. It’s big enough to have its own democratic elections.” Suga eyed Daichi, eyebrows raised. “Why, what are you going to do?”
Daichi gave Suga his most innocent smile. “What are you talking about? I have absolutely no evil intentions!” Daichi sniffed dramatically. “I wouldn’t dream of exacting revenge for the time he set my ringtone to porn noises and called me in the middle of class. And especially not the time he emptied my underwear drawer and left behind a single lacy, red thong. How petty do you think I am?”
Suga snorted. “That was pretty creative, you have to give him credit.”
“Oh don’t you start.”
“Sorry, sorry.” Suga threw up his hands. “Although, come to think of it, that was probably the Kuroo Tetsurou version of pulling your pigtails because he thinks you’re cute.”
“And what,” Daichi said, “I can’t pull back? Don’t give me that look, Suga, I won’t be too mean. Just enough to wipe that smirk off his face, that’s all.”
Suga shook his head, but didn’t protest. “So this payback you speak of,” he said, stage-whispering for added drama, “what exactly do you have in mind?”
***
Kuroo leaned back in his desk chair and covered his face with his hands. “Smooth, real smooth,” he said to no one in particular, extremely glad right now that he had a room to himself and could wallow in his humiliation in private. Goddamn Sugawara, that kid was sugar-coated evil incarnate. He should never have gone drinking with Daichi’s best friend, he should have known he’d end up drunkenly spilling his heart out. Sugawara wasn’t going to let him live this down, not after the Purple Hair Incident of last month. Never mind the fact that Sugawara looked good in purple.
Kuroo heaved a long, self-indulgent sigh, and got up to hunt around for a clean towel. It hadn’t started out this way, not at first. He and Daichi had bonded easily over the responsibilities and rewards of being team captain, watching with affection as Hinata brought Kenma out of his shell, as Lev finally learned to receive, as Kageyama worked tirelessly, not for his own sake but for the sake of the team. Daichi had thanked Kuroo for helping Tsukishima at training camp, and back then, Kuroo had been able to take it in stride. Of course he thought Daichi was good-looking from the start, but Kuroo hadn’t really spent enough time with the guy for it to grow into anything more than an idle daydream here and there.
But then Daichi had shown up in his dorm during freshman orientation week, and offered Kuroo his friendship. Kuroo had spent the week with Daichi and Sugawara, finding an easy rhythm between the three of them, and by the time classes had started Kuroo knew he was doomed. He hadn’t had a crush like this since middle school. Kuroo had thought you weren’t supposed to get crushes like this anymore. It was so… juvenile. Kuroo grabbed his shower caddy and slung a towel over his shoulders, staring up at the ceiling as if its fire-resistant paneling could solve his problems for him.
His phone buzzed loudly on his desk, and Kuroo jumped. But it was only a text from Bokuto.
From: Brokuto
DUDE CHECK YOUR EMAIL I SENT YOU THE MOST INSANE VIDEO EVER
To: Brokuto
Later, I have class. And remember the talk we had about caps lock?
From: Brokuto
I CANT TURN IT OFF
BUT KUROOO ITS A KITTEN PLAYING WITH AN OWL PLUSHIE
IT RERPESENTS OUR FRENDSHIP
To: Brokuto
Sorry dude, I’m not really in the mood for it right now. Can we talk later?
Kuroo tossed his phone on the bed. He could hear it buzzing as it received Bokuto’s numerous replies. He’d deal with that later. Right now, he really needed to douse himself in cold water, on the slim chance that an icy shower would distract him from any and all thoughts of Daichi.
***
Kuroo found Daichi and Suga in the dining hall. He slid into the seat beside Daichi, partly to be near the guy and partly so he wouldn’t have to look at him.
“Morning, sunshine,” Suga said, flashing Kuroo his trademark Sugawara smile.
Kuroo smirked. “It’s far too early for you to be this chipper, Sugawara.”
“It’s past one,” Daichi said around a mouthful of rice.
“Your point?” Kuroo said, drily. He liked being self-deprecating, people found it charming. Well, most people, anyway. Daichi was so damn hard to read sometimes. It had become sort of a game to Kuroo, trying to figure out what would push Daichi’s buttons, to disarm that cool, composed exterior. Daichi was a good leader; he rarely showed his innermost thoughts, what was going on beneath the calm and collected façade. He was able to project onto himself the person his team needed him to be at any given moment. The fact that the real Daichi was so often hidden from view made it tantalizing to Kuroo to uncover the truth.
“Did you finish the reading last night?” Suga asked, idly twirling a chopstick in one hand.
“God no, I got about five pages in and fell asleep. Rational Confucianism boring as fuck.”
“Kuroo!” Sugawara whined, his mothering mode kicking in. “You aren’t going to pass the class if you don’t start doing the readings. You’ll lose the whole 20 percent participation grade!”
“Not if you tell me what was in it,” Kuroo said, doing his best innocent pout. It wasn’t very effective; not only did Kuroo not have the face for feigning innocence, but Sugawara was the reigning Olympic champion of puppy-dog eyes and was therefore immune to everyone else’s feeble attempts.
“Don’t give me that look,” Sugawara said. “I won’t keep doing this for you. Alright, so the reading was on Motoori Norinaga’s contribution to the Kokugaku school of thought…”
Kuroo struggled to listen, he really did. But Daichi had chosen that exact moment to start slowly peeling his banana, giving Kuroo a very good view of Daichi’s hands. They were strong, sturdy hands, powerful but, knowing Daichi, probably gentle as well. Kuroo wondered if they were as soft as they looked, how they would feel on his-
Kuroo shook his head vigorously to clear his unbidden thoughts. “Sorry Sugawara, could you repeat that?”
Usually Sugawara would roll his eyes at this point, but this time he looked like he was trying to swallow the urge to laugh. Weird. Suga cleared his throat. “Alright. So the concept of innate knowing…”
Oh god, Daichi was eating it now. Slowly. Seductively. Kuroo gulped and cursed whatever deity thought fit to make fruit that reminded him so much of his dick in Daichi’s mouth. Good god those lips. Daichi hadn’t yet looked at him, so Kuroo was free to stare, and boy was he staring now.
Suga cleared his throat, startling Kuroo so badly he nearly fell off his seat. “Are you still listening?” He asked, a single eyebrow raised.
“You okay buddy?” Daichi asked, dropping the empty peel back onto his tray.
“Fine. I’m fine,” Kuroo mumbled, eyes cast down, which was partly true. He was fine as long as no one asked him to stand up right at that moment.
***
From: Brokuto
WHATS WRONG CAN I HELP
KUROO?
????
From: Brokuto
Whats wrong man?
ps Akaashi helped me with the caps lock thing
From: Brokuto
better now?
Want to skype cause I have time tonight
Im good at moral support
According to Akaashi anyway
When im not in emo mode though but im not so were good
Kuroo laughed in spite of himself when he opened his texts from Bokuto. All ten of them. Bokuto was nothing if not persistent.
Kuroo sent a quick reply.
To: Brokuto
Sure man, can you Skype now?
Less than a minute passed before his laptop began to jingle. He hit talk and Bokuto’s face popped up on the screen.
“Hey hey HEY, Kuroo!” Despite the terrible lighting in Bokuto’s dorm room, his grin still lit up the screen. Behind him, Iwaizumi was folding a big pile of laundry on his bed. “So what’s up man? What can I do for you?”
“Hey Iwaizumi,” Kuroo said. Iwaizumi turned and waved, briefly, before returning to his folding. “How’s living with hyperactive owl boy?”
“Hey!” Bokuto crossed his muscled arms in front of his chest and pouted. Iwaizumi snickered and approached Bokuto’s computer.
“He’s a handful,” Iwaizumi said drily, “and he snores. But, it’s still easier than living with Oikawa. Anyway, I’ll give you two some privacy.” Iwaizumi went to grab something, and disappeared from Kuroo’s view.
“Thanks Iwa-chan!” Bokuto said brightly.
From somewhere offscreen, a volleyball came flying at Bokuto’s head. “Don’t fucking call me that Bokuto!” Kuroo heard the door click shut on Bokuto’s end.
Kuroo rested his elbows on the desk, and his chin in his hands. “So,” he said.
“So?” Bokuto cocked his head to the side, like he always did when he was listening intently.
“Ugh.” Kuroo ran a hand through his hair. “I have… problems.”
“99 problems?” Bokuto asked, wiggling his eyebrows.
“Exactly,” Kuroo said, thankful to Bokuto for easing the tension with a joke. Bokuto’s jokes were terrible, but they served a purpose. “And Sawamura Daichi is all of them.”
“I see.” Bokuto tapped his lip, thoughtfully. “You still haven’t talked to him?”
“Nope. And I still won’t, before you ask. He’s not interested in me that way.”
Bokuto frowned. “But how do you know that? I thought Akaashi didn’t like me for two years. And I was dead wrong. It could happen for you too, bro.”
“That’s because you’re not very perceptive, darling.” Kuroo rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I think I could tell.”
Kuroo’s phone buzzed in his pocket. “Hold on a minute, Bo,” he said, and pulled it out.
From: Sawamura Sex God
Hey, you up for some extra practice tonight around 6? We need one more for three-on-three.
“Fuck,” Kuroo said under his breath.
“Is that him?” Bokuto leaned into the screen, as if he could read the text over Kuroo’s shoulder. “What’d he say?”
“He’s asking me if I want to play tonight.”
“So? Are you going to go?”
“Of course I’m fucking going,” Kuroo said, tapping out a reply. “I am absolute trash and will take any opportunity I get to hang out with Sawamura. Especially to play with him.” He paused, his thoughts going off in dirty directions. “Volleyball. Play volleyball with him.”
From: Sawamura Sex God
Great!
Hey can I borrow your kneepads? The good ones? I’ve been kind of rough on my knees recently… gotta take it easy.
To: Sawamura Sex God
Kind of rough, eh? ;)
“What are you typing?” Bokuto craned his neck into the screen. Kuroo waved his webcam as if to push Bokuto back into his seat.
“I’m flirting. Because I’m a masochist, apparently.”
“Flirting?” Bokuto scratched his arm. “That’s a good start, right?”
“Forget it Bo,” Kuroo said, “trust me, I’ve tried it before. Sawamura doesn’t really respond to flirting. I don’t think he knows how.”
From: Sawamura Sex God
Yeah, really rough :P
If Kuroo had been drinking something, he would have spit it out all over his laptop. “God,” he wailed, “is Sawamura trying to kill me?” He held his phone up to his webcam so Bokuto could read the conversation. When he got to the bottom of the screen, Bokuto’s eyes went wide.
“Is it just me,” Bokuto said, “or is he better at flirting than you thought?”
“I have no fucking idea,” Kuroo replied, staring down at the phone in his hand.
From: Sawamura Sex God
Been on my knees a lot lately.
“Bokuto, I have to go.”
“Wait, Kuroo-” but he closed his laptop before Bokuto could finish his sentence. Kuroo hopped up on the bed, reading and re-reading Daichi’s messages. The fuck was he supposed to say to that? He decided to go for ambiguity.
To: Sawamura Sex God
Have you, now? Do tell
From: Sawamura Sex God
Yeah, Suga wanted to improve his knee dives, so I’ve been teaching him proper form. Why, what did you think I meant?
Kuroo nearly hurled his phone at the opposite wall.
***
“Remind me never to mess with you,” said Suga, giggling as he handed Daichi’s phone back to him. They were sitting side by side on Daichi’s bed in their shared dorm room, backs to the wall and feet twisted in the covers.
Suga looked at him, the little mole at the corner of his eye shifting as he smiled. “So, has he suffered enough?”
“Oh, hell no.” Daichi grinned. “I’m having way too much fun.”
***
Kuroo had seen Daichi in various stages of undress before. This was not new information. But his stubborn brain refused to restart itself, after screeching to a halt as his eyes locked on shirtless Daichi, on his way back from the dormitory showers. Wearing nothing but a towel, slung low on his hips. Wet.
“Oh, hey Kuroo. Sup?” Daichi said, smiling. He stepped in closer; they were blocking the hallway.
Kuroo felt like his face was on fire. Words escaped him. He tried to look Daichi in the eye, but his gaze kept flicking back down to the light trail of hair running from his navel downwards, disappearing into the folds of the towel.
Daichi raised his eyebrows. “Are you checking me out, Kuroo?”
“No,” Kuroo squeaked. He coughed, and put on a sly grin. “Why, would that bother you?”
Nice save, Kuroo. Thanks, Kuroo.
“Hah. Okay,” Daichi said, his smile somehow growing even brighter. “Suga and I are going down to dinner soon, want to join?”
“Um, sure.” Kuroo figured this might be a good time to head back to his room, but Daichi held out a hand.
“Actually, could you come in here for a second?” Daichi gestured toward his and Suga’s room. “I want to ask you something.”
“You don’t want to put clothes on first?” Kuroo asked, following Daichi’s amazing shoulder-blades into his room. They should name a scholarship after those trapezius muscles.
Daichi closed his door. Suga was gone, so the two of them were alone. “I’ve been thinking about going to the dermatologist, ‘cause I have this mole, right here.” He pointed at his ass through the towel. “Can you just look at it for a sec, give me a second opinion?”
Kuroo’s mouth went dry. Daichi did not just ask him to stare at his ass. No. Fucking. Way.
“Kuroo?” Daichi asked, and oh Jesus Christ he’s undoing the towel, abort, ABORT-
“No, no sorry dude, get Suga to do it I gotta go bye.” Kuroo practically took off running, slamming Daichi’s door behind him. He didn’t stop until he was behind his own door, deadbolt in place. Kuroo let out a long breath and dropped his head in his hands.
Fuck. FUCK. It was hard enough having a fucking unrequited crush on someone without THAT. Good lord, Kuroo had blushed more that week than he had in the previous three years. This was getting impossible. And what the fuck could he do about it? Even if he quit the volleyball team and stopped hanging out with Daichi, they still lived on the same floor. There was no escape. Could he transfer buildings? Universities? Go live in America for a while? Or on Mars? Was NASA accepting astronaut applications?
To: Brokuto
I’m dying over here, send help
If I don’t make it, you get my trophies and my Playstation
Make sure to give my #1 jersey to Kenma, and my old shoes to Lev (he’s the only one who’ll fit them)
From: Brokuto
That bad?
To: Brokuto
I’m one more humiliation away from total coronary collapse
From: Brokuto
Cornorary? Whats that
To: Brokuto
Coronary. It means of the heart. Dude I thought you took exercise science
There was a knock at the door. “Kuroo, can I come in?” said a voice on the other side. Daichi’s voice. “I promise I’m fully clothed this time.”
“Just a second,” Kuroo said, and took a deep breath. He sent one final text before pocketing his phone.
To: Brokuto
Oh god he’s HERE. Wish me luck bro
He slid the deadbolt back and cracked the door open. Daichi was, indeed, wearing clothes, as well as a facial expression that looked like a mix of contrition and humour at Kuroo’s expense.
“Hey,” Daichi said, “is something up with you? You’ve been acting weird around me, lately.”
“Weird?” Kuroo swung the door open to allow Daichi in. And to try to buy some time to think of a convincing answer that wasn’t I want to run my tongue over your abs and it’s hindering my ability to function like a normal human being.
Daichi plucked a volleyball off Kuroo’s windowsill and tossed it lazily from hand to hand. “You know, if there’s anything you want to tell me, I promise I won’t judge you, or react badly or anything.”
“And what do you think I want to tell you?”
Daichi shrugged, and tossed Kuroo the ball. “Anything. Anything at all.”
“Okay.” Kuroo turned the ball over in his hands. “I’ll keep that in mind. But there’s nothing up with me, I’m fine, I swear.”
“Really.” It wasn’t a question, more an accusation.
“The fuck do you want me to say Sawamura?” Kuroo tossed the ball back, suddenly irritated. If the guy wasn’t going to make out with Kuroo, the least he could do was get the hell out of his room and not ask prying questions Kuroo didn’t want to answer.
Daichi caught his ball, then seemed to deliberately fumble it. He turned away from Kuroo and bent to pick it up, and HOLY SHIT.
Everything suddenly clicked into place in Kuroo’s brain. “Motherfucker,” he breathed.
“You like?” Daichi said over his shoulder, grinning stupidly wide.
“That’s-” That was the red lacy thong Kuroo had planted in Daichi’s drawer. It had been a prank, he hadn’t expected Daichi to keep it. “You’ve been fucking with me this whole time, haven’t you?”
Daichi stood, leaving the ball on the floor. He moved in close and gazed up at Kuroo, chin forward. “It’s your own fault, Kuroo, you bought it for me.”
“You’re a sadist, Sawamura.”
Daichi crossed his arms. “I prefer the term prankster, and thanks, I learned from the best.”
“So you know.” About his crush, Kuroo meant, but he figured he didn’t need to specify. Kuroo narrowed his eyes, staring Daichi down. The effect was probably undermined by the fact that he was blushing furiously, but hey, he should get some points for effort at least.
“Suga told me.”
Kuroo sighed. “Of course he did.” He sat down heavily on the bed, and covered his face with his hands. “Alright, secret’s out, thanks for playing. Now please, can you let me wallow in my mortification in peace?”
“Nope.” He sounded so fucking smug about it, Kuroo wanted to punch him. Or a wall. Or himself.
“Daichi,” Kuroo whined as Daichi took his wrists and moved them aside. Kuroo opened his eyes and found Daichi’s face very, very close to his own.
“So,” Daichi said, very gently, “you going to kiss me or what?”
Yes. Yes he was.
Kuroo closed the gap and pressed into Daichi’s lips. He was warm, so warm, and unbelievably soft. Daichi sucked Kuroo’s lip between his teeth, and with a delicate, exquisite pressure, he softly bit down. Kuroo shivered, hyperaware of every point of contact; Daichi’s hands on his wrists, the thigh brushing the inside of Kuroo’s knee, the gentle intensity of Daichi’s mouth on his. Emboldened, Kuroo ran his tongue along the ridge of Daichi’s teeth, and Daichi opened up for him willingly. Kuroo wiggled a hand out of Daichi’s grip to wrap around his waist, drawing Daichi in even closer, and explored his mouth with three months’ worth of hunger.
After several breathless minutes, they finally drew apart, though Kuroo kept his hand on the small of Daichi’s back. “So when I was checking you out before-”
Daichi laughed. “You totally were, weren’t you?”
“Let me finish. When I was checking you out before…” Kuroo grinned suggestively. “I knew you were into it.”
“Maybe,” Daichi replied.
“So this…” Kuroo hooked a thumb under the waistband of Daichi’s jeans, around a certain thin red strap. “Is this an invitation, Sawamura?”
“I thought you had class.”
“Oh, I do. But for you, I have all the time in the world.”
Daichi climbed onto the bed, straddling Kuroo’s waist with his knees. “You should really go to class, Kuroo. Suga won’t take notes for you forever.” Despite his admonitions, he seemed quite comfortable in Kuroo’s lap, and showed no signs of moving. Kuroo laced his fingers together behind Daichi’s back and tilted his head up for another kiss.
“Make me,” he said.