Chapter Text
“Your quads are fucking insane, you know that?” Oikawa wasn’t shy in grabbing his leg as he sat down on the counter. “You’re lying if you tell me you don’t work on them during the off-season.” He squeezed Kuroo’s thigh deliberately. “I can, like, feel the definition through your jeans, just look at—”
“Right, right. Just fit me up.” Kuroo tipped his head towards Oikawa with a grin. “You’ve got plenty of opportunities to feel up my legs, now is not one of them.”
Oikawa faked a gasp and clutched at Kuroo’s calves. “Oh, but Tetsu-chan,” he crooned, “you are simply too ravishing, I don’t know how you could possibly expect me to resist—”
Kuroo jerked his leg, almost knocking Oikawa in the face. He shot a glance around the shop. “Not now, Tooru. Don’t traumatize the customers.”
They made eye contact, shared a laugh, and Oikawa ducked down to yank off Kuroo’s shoes.
Kuroo’s comment was hardly based in truth: Niskeo’s Hirafu Village ski rental shop was vacant. A few employees milled about behind the registers, a stray customer was looking at their selection of socks, and someone had brought in their laptop to leech off the wifi— namely, Issei Matsukawa— but it was late enough and cold enough that Oikawa felt confident in letting Kuroo appropriate counter space for his ass as he fitted him with his boots for the season.
Oikawa was humming something as Kuroo stared at his phone. “Do you know if you’ll be dealing with the same kids as last year?” Oikawa asked. He was fiddling at Kuroo’s feet with a set of bindings.
Kuroo leaned back and looked up at the ceiling. “I’m not sure, actually. We’re getting the lists tomorrow morning. Keishin said that he’ll try to give us the same groups as last year, but I can’t imagine that everyone’s going to come back. I think some of them considered me a tyrant by the end.”
Oikawa grabbed a box of boots he’d left off to the side, and shrugged. “I don’t know, they all seemed to really like you.”
Kuroo’s grin was almost lewd. “They only acted that way around you ‘cause they figured out you were my boyfriend.”
Oikawa’s eyes shot up at him dangerously. “And I bet that’s because you told them.”
“I did.” Kuroo reached down to cup his cheek, and Oikawa swatted him away. “What?” He crooned in mockery of the other man. “Why, with a boy like you, how could I not brag to my students about how sweet and kind you are, and how pleasant, and how you love to get down on your knees for me, like right now, look at you, down on your knees—”
“I am going to make your shaft cuffs two sizes too small, and you are going to come back to me tomorrow with bleeding shins, and I am going to refuse to adjust them.”
Kuroo leaned back again with a grin. “Glad to know we’re still on equal footing.”
Oikawa yanked his foot. “Watch me do it.”
Kuroo wiggled his foot close to Oikawa’s face. “I dare you, Tooru, I dare you to make my shaft cuffs too small on my boots, and I dare you to betray me, your own boyfriend—”
“Shut up, and let me put boots on your feet.” Oikawa had ducked away to grab the boots he’d set aside. Kuroo let him, and moved his foot away.
Oikawa sucked in a breath, and held up a boot for Kuroo to see. “These are the nicest ones I found in your size, so I may or may not have stolen them away when we were unpacking for the season, and hidden them in the back room until now. So I hope that you like them.” Oikawa said this very sincerely, and pried open the plastic to shove Kuroo’s foot inside.
“I expect that I’ll be receiving an… employee discount?” Kuroo knew Oikawa would understand.
Oikawa shrugged, jutting out his bottom lip as he shut one of the bottom cuffs. “Maybe ninety, maybe one-hundred percent?”
They shared a dangerous grin.
“Well, they’re grossly expensive, so I wouldn’t have suggested them if I expected us to pay for them, anyways.” Oikawa sat back and let Kuroo stand up. “Do you like them?”
“Let me flex them for a second, Oiks.” Kuroo teasingly put a hand on Oikawa’s head as he leaned forward. Oikawa let him. Kuroo shifted his weight forward onto the front of the boots, then back, then forward again.
“They’re good.” Kuroo looked at him in surprise. He jiggled his left leg. “They’re really light, too. And flexible, not really dense at the top. They lean me forward real steep, too, it’s a little bit weird. They feel like…” Kuroo had a stern expression.
“What.” Oikawa said flatly.
“They feel like racing boots.” Kuroo was staring at him.
A pause. Oikawa blinked back. “Yeah?”
“What,” Kuroo tone of voice changed. “Like that hasn’t got some sort of connotation between us?”
Oikawa lifted Kuroo’s hand off his head, and stood up. “What, you’re suggesting I want you to start competing again?”
Kuroo’s eyes wavered for a moment. “No, but I think it’s weird that you’ve picked these out.”
OIkawa cleared his throat and folded his hands together. “First of all, if I wanted you to start competing again, then I would be direct about it; and two, if anyone has a right to be pissy about our competitive careers coming to a close, it’s me. We’ve been over this.”
Kuroo was taken aback. “Alright, well, it’s still weird that you’ve got these for me.” He gestured at his feet. “Don’t you think? It’s a little uncomfortable? Because I think it’s a little uncharacteristic of—”
“Who can still ski.” Oikawa cut him off.
“What?”
“Between the two of us, Kuroo, who can still ski?”
Kuroo further retreated. “What?”
“Between the two of us standing here right now, which one can still go up onto a mountain with boots on his feet and come back down on strips of carbon fiber known as skis, in an activity typically known as skiing— ”
“It’s me. It’s me, Oikawa.” Kuroo blurted. He was red in the face.
The two of them were silent for a moment. “Exactly.” Oikawa mouthed the word, and sat back down. He breathed out, and folded his hands together again. “Now, do you want them or not?” He stared up at Kuroo.
Kuroo met his gaze. “I don’t know.” He said, uselessly.
Oikawa pursed his lips. Neither of them spoke, and Kuroo stood there without moving.
“I’m sorry—” Kuroo began.
“Shut up. Look,” Oikawa shook his head. “I get why you feel uncomfortable about this, it would be— it would be weird to get back into that now, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Right, so let’s not think about that. How do you feel about the boots?” Oikawa gestured at Kuroo’s unmoving feet.
Kuroo was pliant. “They’re good.”
Oikawa put a hand on his knee. “See? Good. Are we gonna get them?”
“Yeah, yeah sure.” Kuroo needed to convince himself. “Oikawa, I’m sorry—”
Oikawa had already gotten up. “Shut up, would you?” He grabbed Kuroo’s arm. “It’s fine. I take responsibility. Let’s get them back in the box, I can bring them back for tomorrow morning.”
Kuroo looked at him with a slowly-emerging smile. “I still can’t believe we’re stealing these.”
Oikawa was grateful for the shift in mood. “I can. Now get out of them.” He smacked the back of Kuroo’s arm and went to put away the other boxes.
Kuroo stood there watching him for a moment, reeling slightly. Oikawa was bent over a pile of bindings. “I love you.”
“Mhm.” Oikawa said it long and drawn-out. He stood up and turned to him with a boot pressed to his chest. “I know.”
Kuroo hobbled over to pull him into a hug. It was uncomfortable, with Kuroo wearing ski boots and another pressed between them. “I love you.”
“There are people in here, Kuroo.”
“I don’t care.”
~~~
“I don’t care.”
“I do!” Hinata protested. “I don’t want to sit next to him again.” He gesticulated wildly at the taller boy next to him, his breath clouding the air. “He always shoves me.”
Kuroo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is this true, Kageyama?”
Kageyama, behind three layers of masks and oversized goggles, shrugged. He poked at the ground with his pole.
Kuroo frowned, and shook his head at Hinata just as he was about to protest again. “Get in line, guys.” He clapped Yamaguchi on the back, who squawked. Kuroo herded them into the Ski School line for the chair lift as best he could. Lev wasn’t wearing a helmet, and Kenma had snuck his PSP out into the line. “Kenma, put that thing away.”
“No.”
“Okay.” Kuroo sniffed, and rubbed at his face. He knew which battles were worth fighting.
Group 3 of the aged 11-13 Niseko Boys’ Ski School was under the watch of Kuroo Tetsurou for the second year in a row. He’d taken them on the year prior after retiring from Niskeo’s competitive skiing route, and quickly found his hands full. They met three days a week, from 10 to 2, and the entire time Kuroo could feel his poor highschool-dropout-brain melting from stress.
“How many are there this year?” Tsukki asked. He was the oldest, functioned as Kuroo’s helper, and every day Kuroo found himself more and more thankful for his presence.
“Dunno.” They were currently two rows back for the main lift. Kuroo counted quickly to sum up the number. Oikawa had turned out right— all but one had returned. “Tsukki, what happened to Kindaichi?”
“I don’t know. How would I know?”
“He fell off a ski lift and died!” Lev piped.
“Not possible!” Hinata gave Kuroo no time to interject.
“Is possible!” Kageyama shot back. “I’ll show you.”
“No you won’t.” Kuroo pointed at Kageyama directly. “And it’s fine that he hasn’t come back, it just means one less kid I have to look after.”
“Wow, Kuroo, great to know you value our company.” Kenma said this while staring down at his game, ignoring everyone.
Kuroo shrugged. “I do sometimes. There’s six of us who can fit on that chair, and seven of us, so I’ll take the next one.”
“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Tsukki asked. He pointed with a gloved hand at Kageyama and Hinata, the two of them now piling snow onto their skis and then slapping the ground with them to spray it at one another.
Kuroo pursed his lips, and glanced at Tsukki. “You’ll live.”
Tsukki looked both insulted and concerned.
As it turned out, they all did live, but not without Kuroo shouting at them from the lift behind every 20 seconds. Placing Hinata and Kageyama together at the end of the chair put the smaller boy in a dangerous position, Kuroo quickly learned. It was not without much screaming and thwacking of poles that Hinata had managed to survive.
“I told you.” Tsukki whispered this to him once they reached the top.
“Whatever. We’re going this way.” Kuroo yanked on his pole straps and took off towards where he knew the best warm-up route to be.
“Wait the hell up—”
“Where are we going?”
“Tsukki, help!”
“I lost a glove.”
“Kageyama won’t stop poking me!”
“Kenma dropped his game thingy in the snow!”
Kuroo stopped. By the end of last year’s season, he’d gotten used to this, but it was coming back to him now mercilessly. They couldn’t last five seconds without someone losing something. He whipped around, almost bumping into a tourist. “How old are we?”
The group of disheveled boys answered him meekly. “Twelve.” “Thirteen.” “Kageyama is still eleven!” “Shut the fuck up!”
Kuroo buried his face in his hands. “Let’s start acting like it, alright?”
“So cliche, Kuroo.” Tsukki mumbled.
“Whatever, shut up, we’re going. Put on your poles.”
The group headed down the route Kuroo picked out without complaint. It was the easiest path on the mountain, a green circle dotted with “SLOW” and “FAMILY ZONE” signs, many of which were half-buried in snow. Not a single skier payed attention to the signs, Kageyama and Hinata especially, who went so far as to slide-stop in front of them to pile more on. Kuroo, already, did not have enough in him to chastise them.
“Kuroo, Yamaguchi’s stuck again.”
Kuroo’s job description was to teach these boys how to ski, but it was agreed upon by most involved that by their age, any “teacher” assigned was just university student hired to keep teenagers away from their parents for a few hours so they could ski alone. Kuroo did his job surprisingly well— he was apathetic and “cool” enough, in Lev’s words, to let them do whatever they wanted with limited interference, while still having a clean no-injury record. Kuroo’s philosophy was that if no one broke or lost a limb, he was doing his job well. The truth was, most of the time Tsukki was just doing his job for him.
“Just pull him out. You’re strong enough.” Kuroo was going slowly and didn’t stop, keeping a watchful eye on Kenma, who was skiing while looking down at his PSP.
“Uh, no.” Tsuki pulled his mask down. “Kuroo, I think he’s hurt.”
Kuroo heard Yamaguchi shout something from the underbrush. “Nevermind. Uh, Kenma, stop skiing when you get to where Kageyama and Hinata are. Lev will catch you.” Kuroo took off back up the flat, pushing with his poles and squinting through the snow-flecked air. “Yamaguchi?”
“He’s down there.” Tsuki was red in the face. “I got his pole.”
Yamaguchi was two meters down into a gulley of trees, one ski stuck up in the air and the other wedged behind a bush, both still clipped to his feet. He was more or less upside down, with his butt above his head and his jacket halfway fallen down his back. “Hey,” he mumbled.
“Are you hurt? How did you get down there?” Kuroo was ready to take off his skis and go down after him, but Tsuki grabbed him by the shoulder and pointed to Kageyama and Hinata.
The two boys were stopped thirty meters away, both gesturing enthusiastically towards a small group of adult snowboarders. Kuroo was glad to see Kenma with them, alive. “What is it?”
“That’s the guy.” Tsuki pulled down his mask again, eyes wide. “He pushed Yamaguchi down there. We saw it.”
“Sure did!” Yamaguchi called up. He was now struggling to untangle himself from the bush.
Kuroo’s mouth dropped open. “He pushed you? You got pushed?”
“Yeah.” Yamaguchi’s response was muffled.
Kuroo gripped his poles hard. “How old is he? The fuck?” He looked over at the group and threw both arms in the air, indignant. “Are you okay? He pushed you? I’m gonna go after him— Tsuki, take off your skis and go collect Yamaguchi, I’m going to—”
“It’s the one in yellow and black, Kuroo, I don’t think that he did it on purpose.” Tsuki grabbed his shoulder in warning.
“He did! It was on purpose!” Yamaguchi protested. He’d only sunk himself further into the snow.
“Doesn’t matter whether he did on purpose or not! See this logo?” He pointed to the “SKI SCHOOL” label on the back of his jacket. “It means I’m like... God. I’m God. I’m gonna go talk to that guy, he can’t go around pushing kids into the woods.”
Tsuki frowned, and shrugged. “Alright. Don’t get beat up.”
“Help Yamaguchi.”
Kuroo was still viciously fast, frighteningly fast, even, on a pair of skis. He sped over the thirty-meter gap before Hinata had time to prepare himself for the flurry of snow.
“Which one?” He huffed to the boys. The group of snowboarders was still lingering by the trail junction, and he’d forgotten what Tsuki had said to him.
“That big one, uh, yellow jacket.” Hinata pointed with a pole, half-hidden behind Kageyama. He looked pale.
Kuroo took off without another word. There were four of them gathered around, all tall males, all being loud. They had their feet half-unclipped from their snowboards and managed to take up a ridiculous amount of space in front of the trail junction signs. Kuroo didn’t care about his job, but seeing people blatantly violate mountain rules set him on edge.
“Hey.” He shouted. He didn’t have goggles, but his mask was down, so he jerked his chin up to call their attention.
They all looked up at him simultaneously. It was, to Kuroo’s dismay, viciously intimidating.
He skidded to a stop in front of them and pulled his mask down quickly. His breath fogged the air. “One of you pushed one of my kids into a ditch.”
Two of them exchanged a look. “What?”
They appeared bigger up close. There were only two wearing jackets, the others were donned in hoodies and hockey jerseys, and not a single one wore a helmet. Kuroo was taller than all of them, but felt the need to stand up straighter. They all looked at him expectantly. You work here, he reminded himself, and made eye contact with the one with yellow. “It was you, right?”
“Huh?” The man pushed a hand through his--ridiculously dyed--hair and made a face. His buddies all looked at him.
“You pushed a kid down into a ditch just now?” Kuroo knew he wasn’t supposed to confront customers this aggressively, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.
The guy’s face was perplexed, but then realization struck. “Oh. The kid.” He shrugged. “Hey, it happens.” He suddenly broke out into a grin. His friends laughed with him now, as if on cue. One of them slapped him on the back.
“What?” Kuroo was silent for a moment, stunned, and then he was up in arms. “You just knocked a kid over!” He gestured over to Yamaguchi’s ditch with his right arm. He knew adult snowboarders to be brazen, but not at this level. Kuroo was going red in the face.
The man was quiet for moment, looking him up and down with a grin, then leaned forward to shake his hand. “Bokuto Kotarou.” He said, patting Kuroo’s arm with his other hand. “How’s it going?” His eyes were wide and smiling in clear mockery.
Kuroo retracted his hand the moment Bokuto let go. “What are you—”
“It’s nothing, yeah?” Bokuto was grinning with his hands on his hips. “Just happens. You’re really funny, huh?” He threw his head back in a laugh. “You’re a ski instructor, right? You teach kids? That’s cool!” He grab-patted Kuroo’s arm again. “And I knocked a kid over! I bet you’re mad. This mountain is cool, though, you know, it’s what happens here.”
Kuroo found it hard to take what Bokuto was saying seriously; the snowboarder’s impudence was a sight to behold. “Yeah, you… just knocked a kid over. Just went and pushed a little kid into the snow.”
Bokuto quirked an eyebrow. His mouth was screwed up in another grin. “Yeah, I sure did. Sorry?” He broke out in another whooping laugh “Sorry!” He laughed with his whole body, throwing his head back and gripping his arms. His friends were laughing too, watching him and following his lead.
Kuroo could feel himself growing more irritated. “You got anything to say?”
“Look, uh, ski instructor— wait! You haven’t told me your name!”
“Kuroo Tetsurou.” His voice was monotone.
“Right! Kuroo! I’m real sorry about your kid, I’m sure that he’s a great kid. I’m certain that he’s absolutely fantastic. Stupendous kid.” Bokuto was gesturing in the air with his left hand as he continued to appropriate Kuroo’s personal space. “But you gotta understand that this is what happens. Kids get knocked over. I knocked a kid over, and I guess that it’s a huge deal. We do all sorts of shit, Kuroo.” Bokuto gestured over to the rest of his friends. “I’m real sorry about it.” He sucked in a breath. “But you gotta learn, we really don’t care.” His sarcasm was cutting and he was clearly holding back another laugh.
Kuroo was so far gone at this point that all he could do was stare back with his mouth hung open, completely indignant.
“You alright?” Bokuto’s voice was amused.
“Yeah, I’m fine. You just— You just pushed a kid into a fucking ditch, though, so apologise maybe? If not to him, then to me? Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s not like this doesn’t happen every day. Lighten up, dude.”
Kuroo rose to his challenge. “No, I don’t think I will, nah. You’re gonna come with me, and you’re gonna apologise to that kid. Unless, that is, you wanna get kicked off the mountain.”
Bokuto and his friends all exchanged looks, before simultaneously doubling over in hysterical laugher. It was loud and obnoxious and with each passing second Kuroo could feel himself going redder. Did he not have the power to threaten that? In truth, he didn’t know. Bokuto looked up at him for a second, just to be sure he was serious, before throwing his head back again to further Kuroo’s embarrassment. It took them thirty seconds to calm down, and by then the poor ski instructor had deflated completely.
It had been decided wordlessly by the entire group that now was the time to leave. “I’ll see you around, Kuroo.” Bokuto slapped him on the shoulder, and flashed a grin. “Don’t you go tattling on me to your boss now, yeah? We wouldn’t want that.” He squeezed Kuroo’s arm a second time. Bokuto and his friends took off in a flurry of snow, shouting, and whooping, and with one final wink from Bokuto. Kuroo thought he was going to punch something. Instead, he stood there with his mouth open.
A violated, almost insulted feeling had taken hold of Kuroo— that, and a strong sense of something out of his control. Who was this? Who did he think he was? How could this guy go around at Niseko, exuding confidence and doing and saying whatever he wanted? Aside from being irritating, it was almost impressive.
By the time Kuroo got back to his kids, Yamaguchi had gotten yanked out of the ditch by Lev and Tsukki collectively, while Hinata cheered them on, Kageyama looked sullen, and Kenma played his snow-covered PSP. Yamaguchi had collected snow all the way up his back beneath his coat, and it took serious coaxing to get him to take it off so they could get it out. The poor boy looked like a freezerburnt popsicle, and Kuroo promised him they’d let him off at the base lodge at the end of the run.
“Are you okay, Kuroo?” Tsukki asked him, after they’d reconvened a few minutes later, a trail down the mountain.
Kuroo was still in a state of bewilderment. “Yeah.” He broke into a crooked grin and shook his head. “Those guys, though? The ones who pushed Yam? Man.” Kageyama and Hinata had bugged him about the interaction earlier, but he had to brush them off. “Nothing, just a bunch of idiots,” he’d told them.
“What.” Tsukki rubbed the condensation off the inside of his goggles. They were clumped together at a busy intersection while Hinata and Kageyama argued over which trail to pick.
“That guy, his name was Bokuto. He was a total fucking idiot. He was just—” Kuroo buried his face in his hands. “God, he was just so fucking dumb.”
Tsuki was laughing. “What? That’s it? I thought something weird happened.”
Kuroo threw his hands in the air. “No! See, it was weird! He was just totally brazen about it. He was like ‘yeah, I totally knocked that kid over. We do shit all the time.’ He just didn’t care. It was freaky. He was touchy, too.”
Tsukki made a face. “Yamaguchi is okay, though.” He glanced over at the still-shivering boy. “That’s what matters, right? Don’t get caught up in all this.”
It was Kuroo’s turn to make a face. “I’m not getting caught up in anything. It’s just that he was rude to me.” He considered this for a moment. “He was downright obnoxious to me.”
“Yeah, no. I knew it. You’re concerned about your pride.”
“No—”
“You don’t like the fact that he treaded all over you. You went over there thinking you were gonna totally rip them a new one—”
“I did not—”
“-- and it totally bugged you that he didn’t give a shit about your status. You don’t really care about Yam getting pushed. No, that random dude totally just got to you.”
Kuroo frowned and considered his words. There was a moment of silence. “Shut up. Go ski.” Kuroo pointed him away.
“I’m right.” Tsuki pulled his goggles down and made a chiding noise.
Another pause. Tsukki had already turned away. Kuroo scowled. “He didn’t get to me!”