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Sunlight streams through the window, fixing its unforgiving gaze on Daichi and forcing him out of his slumber. He opens his eyes with no small amount of effort, resisting consciousness as the remnants of sleep cling to him. The sun is already high in the sky, surrounded by flecks of white clouds and washing the room in bright light.
Daichi sits up carefully, wincing at the soreness between his hips and the pounding in his head. He looks blearily around at his surroundings and comes to the slow conclusion that he is not, currently, in his own bedroom. The walls are plain white instead of a comfortable shade of green, and directly across the room from the bed is an enormous floor to ceiling window, overlooking a concrete jungle.
Panic doesn’t settle in right away, surprisingly enough. He’s strangely untroubled by the fact that he has no idea where he is and how he’s also completely naked under the covers. He blames the hangover.
Said hangover suddenly spikes in intensity, his headache reminiscent of a volleyball slamming repeatedly against the sides of his head. He groans slightly and rubs his temples, wishing he had some water and painkillers right about now. How much had he even ended up drinking last night?
Daichi throws back the covers, feeling hot all of a sudden, and immediately blanches. His thighs and hips are littered with so many purple and red bruises that his tanned skin is barely visible. He pokes at one of the bigger bruises - which he’s pretty sure is a bite mark - and winces slightly at the dull sting. Never mind how much he drank last night; what did he do?
He finds his answer in a quiet rustle somewhere to his left. He starts at the noise and turns toward the source, only to see Kuroo Tetsurou rising out of bed beside him.
Shit.
Kuroo sits up and stretches, mouth stretching wide around a yawn. The covers fall from his shoulders, revealing a necklace of bruises and marks on his collarbone remarkably similar to the ones covering Daichi’s thighs. Blood rushes to Daichi’s cheeks at the sight of them. Kuroo runs a hand tiredly through his hair, mumbling under his breath. He blinks blearily, eyes glazed over and still groggy from sleep. He snaps awake, however, when his gaze meets Daichi’s, who's staring at him with wide and slightly panicked eyes.
“Um,” Kuroo says dumbly, blinking rapidly as if he can’t process Daichi sitting right next to him. “Morning?“
"We fucked last night, didn’t we?” The words are out of Daichi’s mouth before he can stop them. Kuroo’s eyes widen at Daichi’s brazenness and, frankly, Daichi’s a little surprised at himself too. His heart is pounding in his chest, has been the moment he saw Kuroo Tetsurou laying right next to him. Daichi already knows the answer to his question, but some small part of him still hopes he’s wrong.
“We did,” Kuroo answers slowly, dragging out the syllables. Daichi groans and buries his face into his hands, regretting asking already. “Oho, Sawamura, your ears are so red-”
“Shut up,” Daichi growls, feeling his face heat further at the teasing tone in Kuroo’s voice. The bed shifts under him, then slender fingers wrap around his wrists and pull his hands from his face. Kuroo’s face comes into vision again, but this time he’s close enough that Daichi can see gold flecks in his eyes. His hair is even more mussed than usual, strands sticking up all over the place and bangs falling over one eye. His mouth curls into a teasing smirk and Daichi feels something flutter in his chest.
“Don’t tell me last night was your first time.”
“It wasn’t,” Daichi snaps, looking off to the side, away from Kuroo. The temperature of his face hasn’t gone down whatsoever and he inwardly curses his body for betraying him.
“Then why are you acting so embarrassed?” Kuroo asks, teasing tone suddenly gone. He sounds genuinely curious. Daichi clenches his jaw and doesn’t answer. There’s a long pause of silence between them before the grip on his wrists loosen and Kuroo leans away from him. “Do you regret it?”
Daichi feels his heart skip a beat, taken aback at the seriousness in Kuroo’s tone. He bites his lip. He can’t deny that he feels something for Kuroo, has felt it since their first meeting, finding his smirk and bad boy look infuriatingly attractive. Daichi hadn’t given it any real thought because his studies and volleyball came first. So he had stomped any hints of attraction into the ground and tried his best not to think about Kuroo. But when they stumbled upon each other at the same college, Daichi’s feelings had resurfaced and increased exponentially as texting became coffee hangouts then movie nights and late night phone calls.
The world is out to get him, honestly.
“No,” Daichi finally admits. “I don’t.”
He turns back to Kuroo only to find him already looking at him, expression unreadable. They stare each other down for what feels like an eon - though in reality can’t be more than a minute or two. The air in the room was becoming near stifling. Kuroo’s hands seem to burn into Daichi’s skin where they’re still loosely wrapped around his wrists. The tension finally dissipates when Kuroo’s mouth turns up into a small smile and he gets up from the bed.
“Okay, so now that that’s settled, I’m starving. How do pancakes sound?”
Daichi blinks. “Wait - what?”
“It’s almost two o'clock in the afternoon, I’m starving, and I’m in the mood for pancakes,” Kuroo explains easily, pulling his jeans up his legs. Daichi’s stomach growls, then, and Kuroo gives him a knowing smirk. Sighing, Daichi climbs out of bed and follows suit, gathering up his clothes.
“What about you?” Daichi asks as they’re buttoning up their shirts. “Do you regret it?”
“Nope,” Kuroo answers without missing a beat. After making sure he has his phone and wallet, he makes his way towards the door. “You coming?”
He pauses. “Ah, wait, you already did.”
Kuroo immediately slips out of the room, his boisterous laughter echoing down the hallway. Daichi is left standing in the room, speechless, with half his shirt unbuttoned. It takes him a solid few moments to process what had just happened. He lets out an exasperated sigh when it does, unable to fight the smile he can feel forming on his lips.