Work Text:
“You’re still single right?” A coworker asks you casually as you work next to each other.
The question makes you pause, eyes shifting to where her hands are without turning your head. You’ve been single for sometime now, it’s starting to really bleed into the rest of your life with everyone you know asking about a boyfriend, your parents have even begun hoping you just hookup with someone.
It wasn’t that dating was hard—though it was. You were afraid. The thought of going out to see someone, someone you don’t really know and having to decide then and there whether you saw a future with them, and committing to a stranger was offputting.
“...Yes.” You answer, uncertain as to what box you just opened. Your coworker grins.
“Great! I know this guy, he works in a different department. He’s so single. I was thinking of setting you guys up if you were okay with it?”
You automatically grimace, then relax a bit.
“He works here? In this building?” You ask to which she nods.
“Yeah! Really good looking, he works in the finance…” She trails off seeing you look like she killed your pet. “...What?”
“A finance bro? Hell no–”
She coughs, interrupting you. Her eyes are serious, her hands coming to trap yours in place.
“No! No. He’s totally not like that at all. Promise.” She says quickly, and you almost believe her. Almost.
You continue to squint at her, scanning for lies. She stares back at you, just as intense. A supervisor knocks on the wall of your shared cubicle.
“We working over here?” He questions with a flat look between the two of you. You both startle and fumble to sit back, facing away from each other.
You roll your lips together, glancing back at her when you hear him leave.
“...I’ll think about it.” You whisper.
She squeals, making other employees give her dirty looks, to which she slumps down at her desk.
Later you’re in the copy room, sorting through a stack of papers, stuck with the tedious task of tossing out the misprinted copies and shredding them. The door opens while you lean against the copier looking bored as ever.
“Woah, hey.” Kuroo Tetsurou, your insufferable colleague--actually no. He was hardly a colleague when he worked in another department. He just appears randomly in your space to annoy you.
He smirks lazily, copying your lean but against the doorframe.
“You come here often?”
Your eyes roll so hard they might fall out if you do it again. He was so sleazy sometimes—if it wasn’t for the way he looked so obviously pleased when you got fed up with him, you'd have assumed he was a creep. But, no. Kuroo loved teasing people, spiking their blood pressure. He had a quick wit, one that made it exceedingly difficult to craft a response to match his infuriating talent. You ignore him instead, looking away from the door.
Kuroo makes a sound, like he’s offended, and walks closer. He leans just on the other side of the machine.
“Rough day?” He asks, and he almost sounds sincere, “ ’cause you look like you need a little bit of…ionic bonding.”
You blink. You didn't listen enough in chemistry to understand Kuroo's jokes half the time.
“What? Is that like…an insult or something?” You question, brows furrowed as you turn to look at him.
His mouth opens and closes, his eyes widening slightly, pushing himself up from the copier.
“No! No way. It's like…you know opposites…attraction. A positive charge and a negative charge…” Kuroo gestures with a finger between the two of you, back and forth until you push his hand down.
You click your tongue and shake your head, retrieving your papers and walking around him.
“I don't have time, Tetsurou. Go bother someone else.” You call over your shoulder as you walk out the door.
Kuroo recovers, quickly walking out the door after you, pausing to watch you go down the hall.
He was definitely grinning, you didn’t have to turn back to see him.
A few employees are around the hall, staring at him and you, muttering to each other.
“He’s so obsessed with them…it’s sick.”
You're still in the office late at night, doing overtime so you would have less to do over the weekend. Everyone's gone, even your supervisor. He dropped the keys at your desk before he left so you could lock up.
“Don’t be here too long. It’s dangerous.” He says casually on his way out.
You assume he means the way some doors get stuck since no one would be there to help until morning. However, you realize a different interpretation to his words when you finish up and find Kuroo idling in the lobby. One hand is in his pocket and the other is holding his phone, which he seems entranced by, scrolling mindlessly. His tie is loose than it is in the day—not that you would notice. He’s unbuttoned the first couple buttons on his shirt too, leaving a very distracting glimpse of his collarbones and the shining skin beneath.
You clear your throat after realizing where you’ve been lingering on and his eyes jump from his phone to you. His hand slips out of his pocket and he waves stupidly.
“I was beginning to think you were never getting out of there. Always workin’ hard, huh?” He teases, starting to walk over as he tucks his phone away.
You stare at him with suspicion.
“What are you doing here?” You ask, like he’s an intruder. He feels like one, with how strangely different he looks outside of work hours even when you’re still in the building.
He touches his chest, a light scoff leaving him.
“Why are you looking at me like I’m shady? One of your department members said you were staying late. I wanted to walk you home, like a gentleman.”
You groan. Like, in his face groan. His lazy smile turns into a straight up grin at your audacity.
“Why the hell would you want to do that? And why would I even let you…I’m a big kid. I can walk home by myself.” You resist, contemplating locking him in for the whole night. It would be a win for everyone. Except for Kuroo.
He follows you regardless, as you turn the last lights off and head out the front doors, practically flying out behind you, like he knows you would close the door on him if he was too slow.
“Because I don’t want you walking at night, alone? I mean come on,” He stops to watch you lock the door, noticing the tremble of your hand, weakened from exhaustion.
Kuroo places his hand over yours, carefully. He helps you turn the key and doesn’t blink when you pull it back out with a grumble, shoving him away.
“And, you look tired. Wouldn’t want you falling through a sewer grate on your way home.” He snickers.
You genuinely don’t have the energy left to continue arguing with him. Perhaps you would be lucky and he would be on his best behaviour—even shut up the entire time?
“Fine.” You sigh, beginning to walk away from him. He runs to catch up with you, stepping to walk in front for just a moment, enough to walk backwards and look at you. You point before he opens his mouth, “But don’t push it.”
To your surprise he is quiet. He doesn’t speak, in fact, he looks like he’s thinking hard about something, but can’t or won’t say it out loud just yet. He is careful with his hands too, not the usual teasing pokes that he does to irritate you. He only pulls you over by your sleeve when you don’t notice how close you’re getting to the road, firmly nudging you on the inside of the street.
You thoughtlessly leave your apartment door wide open when you arrive, disappearing into your place like he wasn’t there. Stunned he only leans in to check on you before quietly shutting your door and leaving. You dream of him that night, and wake up in a cold sweat. You swear to never let anyone know of it.
The coworker that wanted to set you up on a date texts you the next day. She spams the question over and over, reminding you you never gave her an answer yesterday. Overwhelmed, you just say yes and turn your phone off. She doesn’t give you any more detail than the date, time, and location for the date. Sunday evening at a tiny bar in the heart of the city.
You don’t begin to freak out until Sunday morning. It sinks in that you don’t know who this man is, and the repercussions from dating someone you technically work with, even if it doesn’t go well. Especially if it doesn’t go well. What if he’s some douchebag? He’s in finance…it’s practically genetic. Then, you take a deep breath, put your nicest not-work clothes on and primp yourself in the mirror. You run out before you begin thinking too much and stay home. The threat of your coworker hating you for standing up your date is enough motivation to get you in a taxi and by then it’s too late to turn back.
The bar is dimly lit and surprisingly empty for a weekend. It’s not the worst place to be and you could rejoice at the fact your coworker didn’t send you somewhere that was actually a front for credit card fraud or something. You take a seat at a small table, looking around. It should be easy, you just have to recognize anyone from work. Observing the other patrons brings you to the conclusion that he’s not here—he has yet to arrive or he’ll never show up and you’ll look stupid. A man, already looking drunk, stumbles over to your table, propping his elbow on the edge. He is definitely not anyone you know.
“Hey I saw you back there and I just had to ask…you alone?” The stranger speaks with a slight slur to their speech.
His breath is like hot garbage wafting into your face and you shove his arm off the table. You go to speak when someone else beats you to it.
“Not alone. Sorry, man.” A low but smug voice comes from behind him.
The man blinks slowly, turning around to reveal Kuroo.
“I got a date waiting for me if you could…” Kuroo gestures to the back of the bar nonchalantly and the guy is thankfully too drunk to get mad, simply mumbling out of confusion and walking off.
Kuroo turns to you, eyes scanning your outfit with a sly smile. He pulls the chair across from you out with one hand, swinging a leg over to sit down.
“You clean up nice.” He appraises, seemingly unable to remove his eyes from you. Your hair, face, clothes. Whatever it is, his eyes don’t even shift to the table or the flashing lights above you.
You on the other hand are mortified. Disturbed even. You lean forward, eyes glaring at him.
“What are you doing here?” You hiss. “I have a date–” You freeze.
“Oh no…don’t tell me my date is you?” You complain to which he smiles wider.
“Guilty.” He winks.
You groan, face falling into your hands as you lament the grand mistake your coworker made. One blind date with over eighty employees in the office, and it was him. Kuroo Tetsurou. The annoying flirt with a bed head. The flirt who seemingly could never get a date—with how often he never brought anyone to company parties. The guy who you thought was so hot during your first week, and never wanted to talk to again after you saw how painfully unexceptional you were, how he flirted with another employee by the coffee pot, just as he did with you.
This was the worst possible outcome.
You place your hands on the table, about to stand up to leave and he leans forward quickly, shocking you with the panic in his face. His hands press yours back down to keep you still.
“Wait! Just wait…am I really that bad? Just…just sit. One drink. Please?” He all but begs and you're pissed at how much it means to you. That he would look so pathetic. For you.
You don’t say anything but you sit back down with a dark look on your face. He slips his hands back to his side of the table with a relieved sigh. Then, he slumps back in his chair with a carefree grin like he’s never been stressed a day in his life.
He waves someone over to get you both drinks, patiently pausing for you to order before he goes. Infuriatingly, he doesn’t say another thing as you both wait. His hair is half-tamed for once. One side of his head looking somewhat combed—and clearly fighting against the barriers of hairspray. And…even more so upsetting, he looked good. He wore a black button up, even more unbuttoned than that night he walked you home. To the point you saw his chest. It made you feel like a pilgrim the way you felt so scandalized. Among other feelings.
It hits you at some point while waiting, that he seemed none too fussed about you as his date. With a lifted brow you address him.
“You knew I was the date didn’t you? Why didn’t you ever tell me?” You grumble accusingly.
He holds his hands up in defense.
“Hey now…I didn’t know then. Don’t assume.” He laughs. “I just…saw you here. No one else from work around right?”
He taps the table in a rhythm and breathes in, examining the other tables around you before he looks back with a look of bewilderment.
“Or were you thinking I’d be opposed to dating you?” He throws a question back, his gaze uncomfortably focused on you.
You scoff because it’s true. You assumed he disliked you all the same, had the same irritation for you in his own way. He sees it plain on your face and breaks out in a laugh. A loud laugh that has the few patrons eyeing you. A cackle, really.
“Stop laughing! It’s not funny—I mean, we don’t…like each other.” You say begrudgingly, folding your arms.
He wipes a tear from his eye and sits up, sobering suddenly. He looks concerned, cocking his head to meet your eyes again.
“I don’t like you? Really?” He lets out another laugh, more of a breath. He shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, messing it all up again. You prefer it this way.
Kuroo mutters your name under his breath, almost exasperated. You sit straighter, both lost and offended by his reaction.
“What? Why are you saying my name like that?”
He opens his mouth but someone comes by and drops your drinks off. The moment is suspended and you both turn your attention to thank them, and awkwardly begin drinking. It’s slow, quiet. His eyes are still on you as he lifts his glass and you know because you’re staring back.
“...You really don’t know why I bug you all the time?” He murmurs after a pause, blinking to look away from you, looking down at his glass.
“Isn’t it because you like making me angry? I mean that time you kept eating my lunch, even when I labelled it twenty times in the fridge—”
He blows air from his cheeks, looking awkward. Guilty. He rubs his neck.
“Okay so I didn’t go about it great but…I annoy you all the time because I like you.” He admits in one breath, eyes shifting to and away so fast you barely catch it.
You’re stunned. Hands firmly around your drink, unsure if you could even drop it right now. Your fingers feel like rods of steel, beyond your lifting capabilities.
“...You like me?” You whisper, baffled.
He nods hesitantly and you’re taken aback by this side of your annoying coworker. This nervous and shaky looking Kuroo that lacks confidence.
“Yes. And—And I didn’t know how to show you. Or tell you, really.” He explains, hands gesturing shakily in front of him. He nearly knocks his glass over, pausing to steady it. “I really like you. I’ve never been good with…flirting.”
You balk at his claim and he sees your face, chuckling for a split moment before becoming nervous again.
“-I know. I know. I flirt…a lot. But I wasn’t like this in high school. I was a cocky guy, but I didn’t talk to my crushes often…didn’t really date. But…you, you make me suck in a different way. I can’t think normally around you—I panic, and because I didn’t want to look boring or not say anything at all—I just…did what I do best. Piss people off. It got you to look at me.” He flexes his hand, finally meeting your eyes for good.
“I’m sorry for being…a pest. I really am. I mean—I’m not going to lie and say I’m not a piece of shit sometimes, my old teammates will tell you.” He laughs softly. “I really like you…and if you’d let me; I want to continue this date.”
Kuroo looks at you intently. It’s the first time you look at him and really see the sincerity in his face. The slight flush to his cheeks and the dampness of his lashes. You feel the annoyance, the hatred, disdain, all the negative emotions you once associated with Kuroo Tetsurou are gone. Maybe they’d be back, but now? All you were left with was a warm knot in your chest.
“Sure.” You breathe.
Kuroo’s very focused on your date. He asks you thoughtful questions, shares his old high school stories, his incredibly bad but strong habit of trash talk that came from volleyball and remains to this day.
“I think you’d get along really well with Kenma, I mean I bother the both of you—he even shut the door on me one day and I had to nap outside of his apartment like a weirdo until he let me in.” He cackles.
“You don’t bother me.” You mumble, hands under your chin as you listen.
He stops to look at you, his smirk softening.
“Good…”
“Not now anyways.” You add slowly, looking down.
He hums.
“So…we have pretty good chemistry if you—”
“Shut up.”
“Does this affect my chance of getting a kiss by the door?”
You fix him with a glare and he smiles, knowing he’s getting under your skin.
Kuroo might tell you soon, but for now he keeps it to himself, how glad he is that your date didn’t show tonight.