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It was his laugh that did you in.
You couldn't begin to guess what he'd been laughing at, just that Karasuno had just beaten their sworn rivals and you were in tears, and that you'd paused everything because Nekoma's captain just laughed in a way that had him throwing his head back, chest fully shaking with the force of it.
That had been your reckoning: the flash, the oh, the clichéd emotions gripping you and not letting go.
Not a problem. He was the captain—now former, as of that exact moment—of your rival team, and you had a duty to be loyal to the team you managed for, and you could be, because he was graduating and you wouldn't see him again. Not a problem at all.
Only, see, that crush had been easy to ignore when he wasn't in front of you, when you didn't have to confront the sound of his voice or his stupid hair or the shape of his shoulders or—god forbid—his laugh again. So, naturally, he'd gotten into the habit of dropping in on joint training camps, wearing stupid hoodies that looked unbearably good on him and—you swear it—smiling at you when he caught you staring. And, naturally, you had somehow been the one he asked with some stupid excuse about how he didn't know his way around anymore and could you help out, if you weren't busy?
You hadn't been.
So in your final year of high school, at some training camp you hardly remember except for that one moment, escorted a definitely-for-sure lost alum of Nekoma High School out and paused when you rounded a corner and found that the two of you were completely alone. And maybe, yeah, you kissed him, then, and yeah, he walked away, and somehow, you didn't even feel heartbroken about it. No words, just that.
You'd given your first kiss to Kuroo Tetsurou, and nothing had changed at all.
Then college. Moving on. Living your life, working towards your degree, and surely you must be over him by now, like it would ever have gone anywhere to begin with. Yeah, you think about it—how could you not when he showed up to the games and the camps and smiled at you every time, when you still remember that kiss but can't remember his reply except that nothing had come of it and he still smiled at you after that so clearly he didn't hate you?—but you're over him and over it and goddammit there he is on your campus. Something which you could have anticipated, if you'd thought about the fact that Kuroo Tetsurou with that enchanting laugh who you kissed that one time went to the same university, hadn't he been wearing a university sweatshirt when you'd kissed him?
But you hadn't anticipated it. So of course you noticed him. Of course you stopped in your tracks. Of course you'd stared, and spilled your coffee all over yourself like a dumbass, and frantically tried to blot it out with the meager napkin supply that had come with your coffee and pastry, and then found yourself interrupted by—who else?—Kuroo fucking Tetsurou, smiling at you in that crooked way, eyes alight with recognition.
"My dorm's not far," he'd said, "do you want to maybe borrow a shirt?"
You deflated. You agreed. You borrowed a shirt and left with his phone number—ostensibly to pick your shirt back up later and return his—and a date, which had been amazing and maybe you're still dating by the time December rolls around and maybe, just maybe, you're in his lap when his and your phones both ping with texts in perfect unison.
And maybe you hadn't mentioned to any of your high school friends that you'd begun dating the rival high school's former captain.
"I don't see what the big deal is," he laughs as it dawns on you. "We can just tell them."
"Okay, no, not with the guys I graduated with. The guys in your year were reasonable, Kuroo. The rest were and are half demons and half the type of guys who can survive multiple years of sustained contact with the demons. They're gonna flip."
"You spent years wrangling them, I'm sure you can handle it."
You whine, drop your head against his shoulder. "What if we just… didn't tell them yet? Get through the party, pretend everything's normal, and then we can come back and go wild."
"We'll see how that goes."
#
For your information, that is going great. You'd shown up separately, gravitated naturally to different parts of the room—you're catching up with Shimizu and the other upperclassmen, drink in hand and eyes firmly pointed away from where Kuroo's harassing Tsukishima, amongst others. Sure, Suga's been doing his damnedest to get you to admit details about the secret boyfriend you obviously would have gotten the second you went away to university (you appreciate his faith in you). He thinks he's being slick, but he's really, really not.
"I told you, Suga, I am focusing on my studies."
"Does your studies pay for dates?"
You roll your eyes. "Yeah, sure. You're awful interested in my dating life, Suga-san. Why's that, again?"
"Oh, no reason."
The gambit for tonight absolutely requires that you let on nothing. You're not even entirely sure where Suga's idea that you got a boyfriend came from. You've been doing good. You're barely even looking at Kuroo. You're not even visibly reacting when you hear his laugh from across the room! The Crows and Cats Christmas Reunion (per the invitation—you've been calling it "garbage dump Christmas") is going great.
And then you catch Nishinoya on Tanaka's shoulders, pinning what you think is probably supposed to be mistletoe but is definitely holly to a door frame. It's visibly fake, but they're clearly putting a lot of effort into it.
Not a problem—you avoid it pointedly, watch a few others get caught under it and peer-pressured by tipsy busybodies into sharing a kiss with their fellow victims. The night drags on, and you have fun but maybe one drink too many, and when you slip into the hallway towards the kitchen to hopefully snag some water, a very familiar hand rests on your shoulder to help guide you.
"Hanging in there alright?"
"Kuroo," you whisper, "we're not supposed to be—"
"[name]-san!" Nishinoya shouts at the top of his lungs. "Kuroo-san! You're under the mistletoe; you gotta kiss!"
"—oh my god," you mutter, dragging a hand down your face.
A few of the rowdier guys cheer their agreements. You roll your eyes, turn to explain why you will not be doing that no matter how nice Kuroo looks in that sweater, and get as far as "that isn't even mistletoe—" before long fingers are gently tilting your chin up for a kiss.
Of course you kiss back. Bastard.
His lips are soft and warm and everything and he tastes vaguely like beer. You lean into it, mostly just to shut the guys up as your hand slides up to the nape of his neck. He responds in kind—free hand finds the small of your back, pulls you just that tiny bit closer, and for just a moment, you forget where you are and who's watching.
When you pull away, you're met with narrowed eyes.
"That was not the first time you two have kissed. There's no fucking way," one of the guys shouts.
You roll your eyes, try to play it off. "Maybe you should stretch before reaching like that. You're gonna pull a muscle or something."
"No, but, like, you were totally heart eyes at him all throughout school," Tanaka says. "If that had actually been your first kiss, you'd be like, dying on the floor right now or something. You're doing that whole tough thing."
"Has it occurred to you—"
Ennoshita cuts you off with a sharp look. "That whole tough act they do when they're trying to avoid questions? And aren't you two at the same university now?"
"You bagged him and didn't tell us? [name]-san!" Noya's voice is absolutely aghast.
Kuroo's eyes linger on you. "Bagged me?"
"I maybe had a little crush on you," you mumble, cheeks burning hot. "Did you not know? We straight up kissed at one point?"
He blinks. "What?"
"What?"
"That never happened. I have no idea what you're talking about."
You look at him. You're starting to get pretty good at reading whether or not he's messing with you for fun, but he seems completely, genuinely serious.
"We did. Last year. You came to visit and we ended up kissing but then you never—"
Oh. Oh no.
Oh my god.
The realization sinks in, and as you stare into your red solo cup of mysteriously strong holiday punch, you realize there's no getting out of this.
You tip the cup back and chug the rest. Kuroo is laughing over the music and the flood of alcohol burning your system, and you put all your mental energy into not crushing the cup in your hand.
"Wait, who are you thinking of?"
"Who would [name] even have mistaken him for? It's not exactly easy to mistake Kuroo for anyone else," Kenma says.
Point of order:
You don't remember how you ended up kissing. You don't remember how he reacted or why. Every time you saw each other after that, he acted like nothing ever happened.
"What, babe," Kuroo teases, "did you mix me up with someone else, or did you just dream it entirely?"
"S-shut up," you mumble.
"Oh my god. Did you actually—"
"No, nope, we're not talking about this—"
The grin on his face widens. "I think we are. Did you actually convince yourself that we kissed in your third year? Is that why you got extra skittish in the back half of the year?"
"Kuroo, I am going to kill you—"
The mortification feels like it's seeped into your very bones, but then he drops his head back and laughs and you can't bring yourself to finish the threat. You might not ever live this down, but it's made him laugh, and for a moment, you can forget that your friends are watching this and someone's gonna bring up this story if you ever make it to a wedding.
You always have been weak to that damn laugh.