Chapter Text
Warm Sheets, Cold Feet.
For the streamer Kodzuken, bars, clubs, and drinks were not his usual routine. In fact, he did his best to avoid them, the loud noises, the grinding of women and men on each other, the flirtation, and the pounding headache paired with the daze of hangover. But when his friends jostle him into going to some underground 'limited time' bar, he can't resist— or rather, he's not given the option to.
It was everything he imagined it to be; loud, wild, and heated. The mix of everyone's body wash wearing off, the Axe body spray and several different perfumes overwhelming his nose was enough to usually make him want out. But seeking refuge in a strangers arms and being whisked away into the night without his friends knowledge was definitely, not supposed to happen.
Maybe it was the familiar alarm coming from his digital clock, the sunlight through silk curtains, or another man's musk next to him. But something had definitely woke the streamer up. Kenma's eyes shot open and he turned his head, being met with the hazel eyes of another, gazing at him like something delicate. Then, everything hit him like a speeding truck. he shot up, pulling the covers over his body as he sat, moving away from the other man. "Get out, get out, get out, get out!" he demanded, startling the other man. "Okay-okay, damn!"
The man stood up and picked up his clothes that were scattered over the floor, next to another piece of clothing that suspiciously looked like Kenma's calico cat boxers, a quick glance under the covers was all that was needed to confirm. Oh shit… those are mine. The abrupt sound of the front door closing snapped Kenma out of his makeshift inner-monologue. The mysterious man had left, finally.
Those events haven been running amuck in Kenma's head. His only option was to bury himself into his job, which was strange for Kenma, But honestly, what strange thing hasn't he done? Well, at least he has that new team of moderators that he'll meet with in a few days. That should definitely take his mind of the fact he slept with some random ass man.
Kuroo was a simple man, played a sport in high school, was fit and often went to the gym, looking for a stable job to support him, and an undeniable ladies man. Often times he was described as an 'asshole' or some kind of 'man whore' he ignored each and every insult, parading them around like a feather in his cap. Sure he never kept his promise of keeping in contact with several people from high school, but he wasn't really an ass…was he?
Today he would meeting with on of the only people he kept in touch with, Yaku Morisuke, who actually had the balls to go pro in volleyball. Since he was finally back in the country for a while, why not go out for coffee or something. Unfortunately, Kuroo had to show up fashionably late for the sole purpose of not taking it seriously. After all, they were best friends, he'd have to let it slide.
"Nice of you to show up, huh?" "Being seven minutes late doesn't require a death sentence, maybe in Russia?" Yaku scoffed and rolled his eyes at the tease, "You asked to meet here anyway, asshole." Kuroo sat down on the tool next to his old friend. "Yeah, well, I figured since you were back in the country, y'know?" He grinned.
After a while of catching up, they had almost no topics to talk about, and Kuroo was just itching to let the ball drop. "Hey, Yaku, remember that Kenma guy? From the high school team." "You mean the setter that loved to slack off? How could I forget, he was great."
"Well, I saw him the other day, when I went to that club." Yaku's eyebrow raised, "Really? I never took him for the type to out drinking." "I mean- he was sitting in the corner, I don't think he recognized me and we chatted it up." Kuroo scratched the back of his neck for a few seconds. "And we kind of.." "WHAT!?" He sighed, burring his face into his hand. "I don't know- it was the alcohol or something."
Kuroo looked at Yaku's open jaw and chuckled before looking back out the window in front of them. "But damn, he's good at it for some virgin." Yaku shook his head "Wait-wait-wait- you mean to tell me you screwed the same setter you had an attachment to in high school? That huge streamer!?" "Yeah but- other than that, I kind of have a bigger problem.."
Kenma stood at his desk, fiddling with his signature man bun as he looked over the scattered items of the desk for his keys. The added stress of his manager's caller ID on his phone didn't help either, if it was up to the streamer he wouldn't go out anytime soon. Finally able to locate his keys he answered the call, balancing it on his shoulder while stepping outside his house,
"I know- I know, I'm on my way" "Kenma you'll be late if you don't leave the house soon-" "I know I'm just getting in my car now!" He set his phone up on the aux, buckling his seatbelt and starting his car. "What will the moderators think of you if you're late?" "Possible moderators, besides, I don't have to hire any of them." Kenma corrected before cursing under his breath at another driver. "As if I'm letting you pass by another batch of moderators Kenma."
"Whatever, I'm driving can't talk." Kenma hung up on him quickly, pulling into the parking lot of the cafe after another few minutes. The cafe was decorated nicely, white plush sofas and warm wood, something akin to Kenma's home. Kenma sat down at the reserved table next to his manager, a few of the possible moderators sat in front.
The only empty seat was net to him, which he didn't mind, after all he rather be swallowed whole by the earth then sit next to a stranger. "I think that's everyone— " "Sorry I'm late." Kenma paused, that familiar tone, the same one that lulled him through that cursed night out, the same one that chuckled at him standing in the club's corner. He looked up to me the same Hazel eyes of the 'stranger' fuck Kuroo set his bag on the only seat open, the one next to Kenma.
That asshole… I can't just ask him to move- that's too suspicious. I'll just act like that night never happened- I have to keep it professional. The same smirk that he woke up to that morning, was the same one looking at hi now as he explained the next steps for the potential moderators. Kenma's heart leaped into his throat,swallowing it down and praying to any god that would listen that the man would not notice his blood-rushed cheeks and his sweaty palms.
"That's all, you'll be contacted if you're chosen." Many of the applicants said their thanks and whatnot before leaving, Kuroo, silent, but still giving him a smirk and walking off. He's probably cursing me out in his head, probably 'asshole' or something, Kuroo thought to himself, leaning against the wall, still a good distance from the table so they wouldn't notice he hadn't left.
Kenma turned to his manager as they exited the cafe, standing out on the sidewalk. "What's up with you? You don't usually get nervous like that." His manager inquired, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "I don't know, I just don't like people sitting next to me." "Really? Or just him? He's cute." Kenma's hands clenched in his pocket and he turned his head down at the cat rubbing against his leg.
"Well.." Kenma sighed. "Remember that night I went out with friends?" "Well obviously- you never go out." Kenma scoffed, he gave him a 'You know that it's true' look. "Well, I hooked up with someone." His manager coughed, the puff of smoke coming out staggered. "What!? with who? - Don't tell me its-" Before he could finish his sentence, the man they spoke of walked out of the entrance of the cafe, sparing a glance for Kenma, who froze for a few seconds, and walking away to his car.
"Him!? Are you kidding me Kenma!?" "Yeah but— I think he's someone I know." "Please tell me this is an elaborate prank you're using on me?" "Shut up- I think he's my team captain from back in high school" "That guy? what was his name..Kurt..Kamo..-" "Kuroo" Kenma corrected, the cat now pawing at his pants, practically begging for attention. "I don't know- there's just something about him." His manager snuffed out the half used cigarette under his shoe. "Seriously..I don't know what I'm gonna do with you"