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Upon reflection Kuroo realises this has been a bad idea. Perhaps his worst one to date. Sure, on his phone screen a few days ago the short message asking him if he wanted to join Sawamura at the beach this weekend had seemed like the very best of ideas; the characters blinking up at him from his phone so surprising he’d rang Sawamura on instinct to check if they were real and that he hadn’t willed them there in a fit of delusion.
Sawamura, his voice soft and his laughter softer, had confirmed it. He really was inviting Kuroo on a weekend beach trip. Technically he’d be passing through Tokyo to get to the beach anyway, which a certain Chibi-chan had helpfully convinced him to do to be taxied to Kenma, so he could collect Kuroo at the same time with no added stops. Plus, hadn’t they promised to see each other as much as they could this summer break? He’d enjoy some company and the added help taking care of his two young cousins too.
“You’re just offloading your babysitting duties onto me,” Kuroo had pretended to complain, smiling at the gruff noise Sawamura made in response. “But I’ll come,” he’d tacked on before Sawamura could even think about retracting his offer, “because I’m kind that way.”
“Only if you’re free.”
“I’m always free for you, Sawamura.” Kuroo had chirped in his most sickly sweet and annoying voice, hoping that it concealed how genuinely he meant that statement. Sawamura groaned lowly, making Kuroo immediately regret not having video called him; he could only imagine how pink Sawamura’s ears were.
“Be ready around eleven Saturday then.”
• • • •
They’d arrived uncharacteristically late, twenty-two minutes past eleven, even though Sawamura tried to convince him that still counted as being ‘around’ eleven.
“Around eleven is plus or minutes ten minutes in either direction,” Kuroo had pouted. Mostly because he enjoyed teasing Sawamura, but a little bit because for roughly ten of those minutes Kuroo had started to think that maybe he’d misunderstood something. Like maybe he’d confused the days, or maybe Sawamura had had to cancel and he’d missed the message. Maybe when he had said beach, he’d actually meant something else?
“Stop being weird,” Kenma had grumbled from where he was sat quite happily on the curb. “Shouyou’s already sent me videos of them on their way.” He’d handed his phone up to Kuroo where a video of Sawamura driving with his window down, right elbow propped casually in the breeze, greeted him without warning. It must have been sent just a little after sunrise since Sawamura’s skin was washed in a warm orange. Hinata panned the video behind to show the two passengers in the back curled up sleeping under a shared blanket.
“I didn’t say anything,” Kuroo forwarded the video to himself before handing Kenma back his phone.
“Your loser thoughts are written all over your face.” Kenma poked his tongue out at him. Kuroo was mid messing up his hair when Sawamura’s car turned into the road.
“What, thought you’d been stood up?” Sawamura had smiled as he opened his door, because of course it was a joke, but whatever face Kuroo was still wearing must have been sufficiently pathetic because Sawamura had paused momentarily and Hinata took that as his opportunity to duck around him and scoop Kenma up in a hug.
“No,” Kuroo answered at the same time that Kenma loudly whispered “yes” to Hinata.
“As if I could forget you.” Sawamura’s smile unravelled slowly back across his face as he stepped forward to ruffle the front of Kuroo’s hair, his hand lingering as he turned to Kenma. “You sure you guys don’t want to come with us?”
“Sure.” Kenma nodded, swishing his hair so that it fell back how he liked it across his face.
They’d been through the logistics of this a few times; with the six of them they’re one person over car capacity. Sawamura’s aversion to any kind of rule breaking is secretly one of the things that Kuroo finds the most charming and endearing about him, so he’s not about to encourage unlawful behaviour, especially with kids in the car. Sawamura had offered to drive Kuroo and his cousins to the beach then return to collect their two kouhai, but Hinata insisted that was just a waste of Sawamura’s beach day making him drive back and forth like that, Kenma insisted he has already planned out a city day for them and Kuroo had said nothing at all in the quiet, wishful hope that they’d get to go to the beach as a foursome and he’d be able to soak up more of Sawamura’s time.
“If you change your mind–”
“We’ll call!” Hinata cut across with a grin, looping one arm around Kenma’s shoulder to tug him close. To people who might not know Kenma as well as they do, they might have mistaken the pinched look on his face as discomfort rather than the smug satisfaction it really was. Luckily both himself and Sawamura know Kenma pretty well. They shared a look; the slight curl at the corner of Sawamura’s mouth pulling Kuroo’s gaze more than it should.
“C’mon then,” Sawamura scuffed the side of Kuroo’s face, “if we leave now, we’ll get there by lunch.”
• • • •
There’s no shortage of things Kuroo enjoys doing in this world, even so, watching Sawamura drive is quickly climbing the ranks to be one of his favourite. It’s not often he gets to see it since when Sawamura visits he almost always gets the train. And there’s just something slightly different about watching him drive around his childhood streets in Tokyo than there is watching him drive around Miyagi. Something about the familiar skyline scrolling behind Sawamura’s head makes it feel like he belongs exactly here where Kuroo is.
“Take a picture,” Sawamura smirks, “it’ll last longer” because of course he caught Kuroo staring. But Kuroo’s never been one to kick a gift horse in the mouth, so he barks a laugh as he fishes his phone out of his pocket to capture Sawamura, tutting when he tries to swat at him.
“Eyes on the road, Sawamura,” he chides, “there are kids on board”. And his laugh must have woken them up because from behind him in the back seat floated a bleary little voice.
“Are we the kids on board?” Kuroo spun round to peek at them, finding two pairs of big brown eyes blinking up at him.
“Well, now, who else would be the kids here?” He asks, making a show of checking around them and under their cover, “Is Chibi-chan still hiding somewhere?”
“Kitty Cat!” Asami screeched happily, kicking her legs. Despite being older than her brother by almost twelve hours, Asami is a few inches shorter than Yusei, and it really showed in moments like this as Kuroo watched her try and fail to kick the back of his seat playfully.
“That’s Captain Kitty Cat you to.” Kuroo swatted at her legs.
“Really,” mumbled Sawamura, needlessly fond, “that’s what you’re correcting her on.”
“You’re the one who told them that was my name,” Kuroo reminded him, well aware that all his past attempts to get the twins to call him anything else have failed. Besides, it is kind of cute.
“It is your name,” Yusei piped up, grinning cheekily as he rubbed sleep from the corner of his eyes. “What else should we be calling him?” His question was clearly directed at Asami, who made a great show of scrunching up her face as if she were truly thinking it over. Kuroo leaned farther over the back of his seat so he could pinch her nose between his fingers until he felt Sawamura slap him lightly with the back of his hand across the backs of his thighs. Kuroo swivelled around so fast his seatbelt let out a high-pitched noise. He stared at the side of Sawamura’s face.
“No reckless passenger shenanigans whilst I’m driving.” He was using his Captain’s voice, Kuroo noted uselessly as he continued to stare at him. Surely it wasn’t just his imagination making Sawamura’s face glow pink. Kuroo blew a breath out of the side of his mouth, feeling jittery and bold all at once.
“If I knew shenanigans were all it took to get your hands on me, I’d have shenaniganed way sooner.” Sawamura’s eyes narrowed, glancing for a split second his way before focusing back on the road.
“Don’t be so shameless with kids present.”
“What’s a shenanigan?” Yusei asked innocently. In another life, one where Kuroo was braver, he’d definitely lean across the console and kiss the embarrassment right off Sawamura’s face. In this life, all he can do is stare at the pink glow from earlier burning into a shade much closer to red and smile.
“Some kind of Tokyo snack.” Asami answered, completely confident and completely incorrect. “Kitty Cat, you’re going to buy us lunch, right?”
He does end up buying them lunch, because it’d be very improper to disappoint a lady so early on in her young life, and besides Sawamura had refused to accept any money so far for petrol. Sawamura naturally told him that he didn’t have to and even made an attempt at paying before Kuroo could, but Kuroo’s always been the slyer one of the two of them and he definitely wouldn’t have been outfoxed by that sort of thing.
Besides, getting to pay and tuck the receipt safely into his wallet, made it feel just a little like a date.
• • • •
Yet now, upon reflection, Kuroo realises this has been a bad idea. The drive was pretty peaceful, especially for a Saturday, the kids equal parts happy and excited to be getting to have an adventure with their favourite cousin and their stop for lunch had worked out to be perfectly timed because they’d avoided being under the sun during the heat of the day.
And only now with his toes burrowing themselves into the soft, warm sand, does the reality of the situation hit him. He’s agreed to spend a weekend at the beach with Sawamura. The beach. Where Sawamura is being so completely unreasonable by walking around in nothing but his swimming trunks.
Of course, on a geographical level, this makes sense. Kuroo’s wearing his swimming trunks too. But on a personal level? Kuroo glares at the sand as his toes dig deeper. What a stupid and ridiculous kind of torture. He can’t even scold Sawamura for being indecent without sounding insane. Or at least more insane than Sawamura already thinks he is.
How did he think he would be able to survive this?
Yusei is sat curled up at Kuroo’s side, cross-legged on the same towel, making tiny little hills of sand in front of him for his Lego figurines to live in. Kuroo’s only half been paying attention to the narrative he’s made up, as he understands, the Lego figurines are having a disaster of a time on their excursion to a planet made of sand.
The rest of his attention has been caught entirely by Sawamura. Asami wanted to swim right away, ignoring Sawamura’s concern about letting her lunch fully settle because it settled in the car already and bouncing impatiently from foot to foot until Sawamura deemed her properly sun creamed. He’d asked Kuroo to keep Yusei company and make sure he’s fully lathered too, which of course Kuroo has done, making the little guy put on his cap as well just in case. Then he’d tugged his shirt off over his head with absolutely zero warning to Kuroo to prepare himself and ran after Asami. Kuroo’s only grateful that Sawamura was too busy kicking water at her to notice his mouth hanging open.
He wipes his palms on the front of his t-shirt to make sure they’re sun cream free and shoots Bokuto a two-word message: Jesus. Fuck.
Bokuto replies within two minutes, like he always does, because he’s most excellent: ???
And there’s only one sufficient answer to that, isn’t there? Kuroo takes a photo of the sand covering his toes. He takes another of how the sun hits the water, its reflection speckled across the surface like glitter. And he takes a third of Sawamura laughing at whatever Asami is screeching at.
He only sends the third one across to Bokuto. He replies in half the time as he did initially: Ohoho? The series of eye emojis paired with the water droplet ones might not be entirely necessary, but they do adequately represent Kuroo’s own exact thoughts on the situation. Then: Bro, is this happening right now? In real time?
In real time, bro. Kuroo confirms.
Well then.
Well then?
Jesus. Bokuto sends. Ten seconds later. Fuck.
Kuroo throw his phone face down onto the towel and groans. It vibrates a few more times, obviously still Bokuto, but Kuroo doesn’t want to read them. He knows what they’ll say; Kuroo needs to tell Sawamura how he feels.
Kuroo stares at Sawamura and not for the first time imagines each and every way that situation could go. As far as he can work out, every possibility ends in disaster.
It’s not like they’ve ever spoken about it directly, but Kuroo’s fairly certain that Sawamura’s straight. Didn’t he have a thing with the girl volleyball captain in Karasuno? Kenma once told him he’d misunderstood that situation, but Kuroo had seen the way she looked at Sawamura, and he absolutely knows that look. Besides, if Sawamura weren’t straight, there’s a close to non-zero chance that Sugawara wouldn’t know. And he’d tell someone who would tell Kuroo, right?
Plus, isn’t it better this way, being his close friend? If he confesses and it goes wrong, he’ll lose Sawamura entirely. If he never confesses he gets to sit in the warm glow of him forever.
“Oi,” a water bottle hits Kuroo gently in the temple, surprising him so completely he jerks back. Sawamura raises an eyebrow. “Where’d you go?”
“Huh?” Kuroo stares up at him. The way he’s standing the sun perfectly illuminates him from behind, making his skin glow luminescent. “I didn’t go anywhere.” Sawamura smiles. Kuroo feels a shrill panic building at the back of his throat as Sawamura’s dimples bloom.
“I called your name a few times.”
“Oh.” He swallows. “You did?”
“He did,” nods Yusei helpfully. “You were daydreaming.”
“Ah,” Kuroo holds up his hands, “you caught me.” Sawamura plops down in front of him on the sand, water dripping down his hair and onto his bare chest. If Yusei wasn’t sat right there next to him Kuroo thinks he really would scream. Sawamura presses the water bottle into his hand.
“Make sure you keep hydrated in this heat.” Kuroo pulls at the bottle cap with his teeth and gulps down a few mouthfuls. You calling me thirsty? An errant part of his brain whispers. Indirect kiss. A different, traitorous part murmurs, reminding Kuroo that he watched Sawamura drink from this very bottle just moments ago.
“You too.” Sawamura chides, passing a smaller bottle off to Yusei and watching him drink. He nods twice, once at each of them in turn, satisfied. His gaze finds its way back to Kuroo. “You guys going to come swim with us?” It’s a question for them both, but Kuroo feels like it could just be for him with the way Sawamura’s eyes don’t move from his face.
“Of course.” As if Kuroo can ever refuse Sawamura.
“Of course?” Yusei echoes scandalised. “What do you mean of course?” Kuroo flicks his ear affectionately.
“We’re at the beach, kiddo, it’d be a waste not to swim.”
“But what if there’s something slimy out there? Like jellyfish? Or seaweed?”
“There probably will be,” Kuroo agrees solemnly, “that’s part of the fun.”
“Asami sent me to get you,” adds Sawamura, “she said I should drag you if you said no.” Yusei sighs with all the resignation his eight years of life allow.
“Very well.” He stands abruptly, brushing sand off his knees. Sawamura stands too and holds out a hand for Kuroo. As always, his hands are the perfect middle ground between soft and firm. The warmth from it burns all the way up Kuroo’s arm and nestles deep into his chest. He lets go first so that he can step back and tug his own t-shirt off over his head. He knows his hair must look twice as awful as it usually does now so reaches up to adjust it. Sawamura coughs. Kuroo looks at him. The sun is making his face glow.
“C’mon then,” Kuroo nods towards the sea. “Best not keep Asami waiting any longer.” Sawamura nods in slow motion, shuffling Yusei away with two hands. Kuroo makes to go after him, but Sawamura clamps a hand firmly around his wrist.
“Not so fast.” Kuroo raises an eyebrow.
“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of slimy things too Sawamura?” He teases. Sawamura rolls his eyes.
“No one gets to swim before they put on sun cream,” Sawamura’s voice is very firm, “family rule.”
“Oh.” Kuroo blinks. “Sure.” That makes sense. Sawamura makes a motion with his fingers and Kuroo finds himself turning around before he thinks to question why he should. He hears the bottle pop open, and he hears the noise cream makes as it’s squeezed out the bottle, but Kuroo doesn’t really register what is happening until Sawamura’s hand lands warm and sure on his shoulder and starts swiping cream down his back. Kuroo goes ramrod straight.
“Relax,” Sawamura huffs behind him, pressing a knuckle into his shoulder blade where he’s tensing. Kuroo really really wants to scream. It’s all he can do to hold his breath and not burst into flames. Sawamura’s hand moves in smooth, methodical swipes, brushing over the back of his neck and down his spine slowly and carefully. His hand curves around his waist, a meticulous little finger running along the seam of his trunks to make sure he’s fully covered. Kuroo’s pretty sure a squeak leaves him at that, but Sawamura doesn’t comment on it. He shivers as Sawamura’s hand smooths back up his spine and over his other shoulder, biting on his tongue to stop any other errant sounds.
Sawamura hums consideringly behind him. One of his hands latches around Kuroo’s waist and tugs him. Kuroo follows on instinct finding himself face to face with a very smug looking Sawamura. Why does he look so pleased with himself? Kuroo opens his mouth to ask exactly that, wondering if perhaps dadding over people thrills him, but then Sawamura presses his thumb into the soft part of Kuroo’s left cheek, and he starts spreading cream across his face too. Kuroo can only watch, body filling with static, tracing where Sawamura’s eyes land on his face as he makes sure he’s protected from the sun. Kuroo’s fairly certain he’s capable of applying cream on his own face, but he’s not about to tell Sawamura that.
“You can do the rest yourself, right?” Sawamura asks, wiping the remaining cream on his hands softly down Kuroo’s throat. Kuroo swallows.
“Right.” Sawamura nods, once more satisfied, and turns to walk over to where the twins are paddling in ankle-deep water, Asami coaching Yusei into inching in a step at a time.
Kuroo throws cream across his chest, arms and legs in record time. Even so, by the time he jogs over to them Yusei is already up to his thighs in water with Asami swimming bodily in a few feet away. Sawamura smiles, scooping Yusei up from the backs of his knees, as Kuroo splashes into the water behind them.
“C’mon Slowpoke,” he swings him into a princess carry, “we can’t let this old cat beat us into the water, can we?” Yusei clings onto him, clearly still scared, but then he peers around his elbow to see Kuroo gaining on them and pokes his tongue out at him.
“Oi!” Kuroo pretends to be offended. “If I’m old what does that make you?” Sawamura, his muscles flexing in a mesmerising way as he hoists Yusei step after step into deeper water, barks a laugh.
“Youthful!” Kuroo squawks indignantly.
“You’re only six weeks younger than me!”
“So, in six weeks I’ll be all old and washed up,” Sawamura pivots slightly, twisting his torso so that Kuroo can see his face, “just like you.” Kuroo growls and lunges at them, making Yusei squeal into peals of laughter.
“Six weeks isn’t even that long,” Kuroo yells at them, “it’s basically the same!”
“Nah-uh!” Asami’s head pops up out of the water much closer to Kuroo than he realised. “That’s aaaages”. Kuroo narrows his eyes at her.
“You’re only saying that because you like to pretend you’re older than Yusei.”
“I am older than Yusei!” She’s always been very proud of this fact. Just like her older cousin, Yusei loves taking care of people. It’s what big sister’s do, she’d proudly informed Kuroo the very first time they’d met.
“She is older than Yusei.” Sawamura agrees wholeheartedly, Kuroo can’t help but notice water is lapping at his belly button.
“I’m the baby.” Yusei grins, kicking his legs as Sawamura dips him down into the water.
“This is unfair.” Kuroo throws his hands up in defeat. “I’m stuck in a three versus one.” Sawamura splashes water at him with his now Yusei-free hand.
“I never thought you’d be one to shy away from a challenge.” His other hand lets go of Yusei, who despite earlier protests reacts to being dropped bodily into the water with glee, and he flashes a smirk so cocky Kuroo’s way he feels it zing through him. Their eyes meet and Sawamura smiles with all his teeth.
Kuroo tackles him straight into the water.
• • • •
By the time the sun starts to set, Kuroo is feeling fuzzy and warm through to his very core. An afternoon of watching Sawamura play in the sea does that to a person, he thinks, as he lets himself dry under the dipping sun. He stares up at the endless sky. It’s almost stupid how much he likes him. It’s almost stupid how obvious he’s being too, and it’s stupid that he’s stopped trying to hide it.
It’s always been tough spending this amount of time around Sawamura, but at least usually he keeps all his clothes on so Kuroo’s able to maintain a semblance of decorum. They’d agreed late last year that they’d make time for each other during this summer break, the last one before they head off to university and everything that comes with, and so far they’ve done well. Sawamura took the train to see him week one, turning up with a handwritten list of all the sights in Tokyo he wanted Kuroo to show him. Kuroo loves remembering his face all scrunched up in embarrassment when he called him an old man for having it handwritten at all.
“Modern teenagers have notes apps for that.” He’d said, delighted by how pink Sawamura’s face burned. He’d told him to shut up and mumbled about how it was nicer to have things written out instead of on a screen. So Kuroo had had no choice but to write him a postcard he’d bought at the real Tokyo Skytree thanking Sawamura for visiting and promising to make the journey to Miyagi next time in return.
Sawamura had picked him up from the station the following weekend, driving them the long way back to his house just to show Kuroo all his favourite places. They’d paused for an hour or two at his childhood court to play volleyball and would have stayed longer if Sawamura’s dad hadn’t called and asked if they were coming home for dinner. Meeting Sawamura’s parents freshly covered in sweat hadn’t exactly been how he’d envisioned it, but his dad had just ushered them off to shower, laughing a laugh so similar to Sawamura’s it made Kuroo feel at home.
It was only after he was showered, fed, and helping Sawamura roll out a futon for him to sleep on on the floor that Kuroo saw his postcard propped up on Sawamura’s bookshelf, displayed so openly and so shamelessly.
“Daydreamer,” Sawamura’s voice interrupts his melancholic mood with a flick of water at his face, “I’m going to go find us some ice creams, keep an eye on them, will you?” Kuroo glances to where Asami and Yusei are busying themselves in the sand. The narrative of the Lego people seems to have expanded somewhat since he last tuned in.
“I can go if you like.” He offers. Sawamura smiles and it’s awful how helpless Kuroo feels.
“Nah, you’re alright. It’s important for cats to get some time spread out under the sun.” Then the bastard winks at him. Kuroo watches Sawamura’s back as he walks away and groans. Isn’t it improper to go in search of ice creams shirtless? Shouldn’t someone tell him not to wink at boys unless he wants them to fall in love with him?
Figuring the kids aren’t in any immediate danger Kuroo resumes his laying, twisting onto his front so that he can supervise them as his back dries, smiling every so often at the way Asami tilts her voice with different inflections to voice her characters. It only takes them a moment or two to realise he’s watching and they begin to weave their way closer and closer towards him, building little turrets in the sand and digging pathways for their characters to wander down until they’ve set the stage right in front of him.
They babble on for a minute or two. With them this close and with no Sawamura around to distract him, Kuroo suddenly realises the characters aren’t randomly named at all. He blinks. Then blinks again, watching the Lego pieces be shifted around as each character speaks until he’s absolutely sure.
“Oi,” he growls lowly, waiting for them to both look his way, “have you really named the pet after me?” Yusei grins.
“He’s a cat!” He holds up a black Lego piece to Kuroo’s face. It doesn’t look much like a cat to him if he’s honest.
“You’re a cat.” Asami amends.
“So, I’m a cat and you three are all people, is that right?”
“Right,” Asami nods, like this much at least should be obvious, “because you’re Kitty Cat.”
“Couldn’t I be a person and still be Kitty Cat?” They exchange a look; Kuroo gets the distinct impression that they feel as if he’s being difficult on purpose.
“This is our family,” Yusei explains slowly, “it makes sense for our family to have a family cat.” Kuroo eyes the various other characters curiously.
“This one is me,” Asami plucks one up and sits it in front of Kuroo, “this one is Yusei.”
“Daichi is this one because he’s the coolest.” Yusei sets the third character in front of Kuroo. They all look pretty much the same to him.
“And who’re they?” Kuroo nods his head at the last two characters lying in the sand.
“Shouyou and Kenma,” Yusei shows them off to Kuroo too.
“Why do they get to be people?” This is outrageous. Kuroo doesn’t even think they’ve met Kenma in person that many times.
“They’re not in our family,” Asami rolls her eyes, “they’re our neighbours.” She gestures at a pile of sand identical to all the other piles of sand. “Our family live together here.” Kuroo hopes he’s not asked later on to recall which sand pile his cat Legosona lives in.
“Ah,” he nods as if he totally understands, “and to be in your family I have to be the pet, yes, yes.”
“Mhm,” Yusei seems pleased that Kuroo’s finally getting it, “because we wanted you to be our family so it’s the only way…” his voice trails off.
“Unless you marry Daichi, then you could be our cousin too.” Kuroo’s mouth drops open. He can’t have heard that correctly. Asami barrels on like that was a completely regular sentence to say. “If you really hate being our cat you should think about doing that.”
“I,” Kuroo’s voice comes out strangled and weird, “should think about marrying Sawamura?” Asami levels him with a critical look.
“If you hate being our cat.”
“Right. Sure.”
“We did move to Tokyo for you,” Yusei chimes in, “it would be a good thing to do I think.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Kuroo waves his hands in front of his face like he can physically stop this conversation, “I thought we were on a sand planet!”
“We are,” Yusei nods happily, clearly proud of how much Kuroo’s been paying attention. “But the sand planet is just for today.”
“And maybe tomorrow!” Asami is piling sand into a new pile, indistinguishable from all the others, though Kuroo’s sure it’s different in a way only they can see.
“Our family home is in Tokyo, today we are on an adventure!”
“I see.” Kuroo does not see. “Why aren’t we living in Miyagi?”
“Daichi is in Tokyo,” Yusei is not entirely happy about this plot point it seems, “so we have to follow him to Tokyo.”
“Since when is Sawamura in Tokyo?” Yusei tips his head to the side at an angle, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Asami looks up from her architectural sand masterpiece, eyebrows a mirror of her brother’s.
A bag drops down in the middle of them.
“Sorry I took so long,” Sawamura huffs, apparently out of breath, “the first shop was sold out.” His face is so red; he must have run all the way back to them. When none of them move Sawamura leans forward to open the bag himself. “Lemon or lime?”
“Lego Sawamura lives in Tokyo.” Kuroo blurts without thinking, eyes flicking from where Lego Sawamura is still sat in the sand in front of him to the real Sawamura’s bright red face.
“So I heard.” Sawamura shoots a look at Asami and Yusei in turn that Kuroo can’t decipher at all before he echoes, a little firmer than before, “lemon or lime?”
“Lime.” Kuroo picks at random. Sawamura’s mouth tips up on one side, his eyes soft with relief when they meet Kuroo’s.
“Sour puss.”
• • • •
The place Sawamura’s booked for them to stay is right on the beach front. Kuroo knows it mustn’t have been cheap, especially at this time of year, and tries to give Sawamura some money, but he’s met with a stern look and the solemn promise that it didn’t cost that much because it’s not along the central part of the beach but right where the beach ends. Plus, he tells him, his aunt and uncle were the ones who actually booked it as a thank you to them for taking the kids on a weekend trip.
It doesn’t sit totally right with Kuroo, so after he’s showered, he sneaks off to buy them all dinner whilst Sawamura is showering the twins and himself, and it sits a little better. Especially when Sawamura lets out a happy groan when he smells the ramen.
“Amazing idea,” Sawamura flops down onto the sofa next to him, leaning over his lap to poke at the boxes, “are they all the same?” Kuroo remains perfectly still so as not to encourage Sawamura to move even an inch away from him.
“Yeah, I just got four of their recommended special and two sides of dumplings.”
“You’re spoiling them,” Sawamura chides, poking Kuroo in the thigh with a chopstick, “you should have made them share.” Yusei puffs out his cheeks at that remark, aghast that Sawamura would doubt how hungry he is and how much he can eat. Asami joins in and they squabble between them first about who can add the most dumplings to their ramen, Sawamura insists they both add only three since they can always add more if they like, and then about which film they should watch as they eat.
They turn to Kuroo for the deciding vote, and he feels a flash of guilt at how little he’s been paying attention since most of his focus has been on breathing like a normal person and not like someone who’s pressed thigh to thigh next to a freshly showered Sawamura.
“Uhm,” three pairs of Sawamura-brown eyes is really too much, “the second one.” Yusei crows in victory and Kuroo sends Asami a mental apology; he really had no idea what he was picking, let alone whose choice it was.
“Boys,” she pouts, accepting the decision with grace before turning back around. Sawamura’s laid out a couple of pillows and a blanket on the floor for them. He told them it was because there wasn’t enough room on the sofa for all four of them and then whispered to Kuroo it was actually because if they make a mess, it’s easier to throw a blanket into the washing machine than a sofa.
“Such a good dad,” Kuroo forgets to make it sound like anything other than a compliment. Sawamura shoves at his shoulder for it anyway.
It only takes ten minutes for them both to be softly snoring.
“Figures,” Sawamura chuckles, “all that arguing for nothing.” Neither of them finished their ramen entirely so Sawamura gets up and diligently packs the leftovers in the fridge in case anyone fancies it as a snack tomorrow. Kuroo throws a second blanket over the pair of them, wondering if he should pause the film for them, and frees Asami’s arm from where she’s fallen asleep with it folded awkwardly under her head.
“Hey, Kitty Cat,” Kuroo turns to find Sawamura in the doorway. He holds up two cans of beers. “Fancy a drink?”
“Oi oi,” Kuroo can’t help how scandalised he sounds. “We’re underage.” There’s simply no way sensible and careful rule abiding, won’t cross the road if there’s not a green man telling him it’s safe to do so, Sawamura Daichi is suggesting they drink alcohol.
“What, you don’t want to?” Sawamura stares at him.
“I so want to.” Sawamura grins, nodding his head towards the sliding door that connects to the small balcony.
“Not in front of the kids.”
“There’s the Sawamura I know.” Sawamura rolls his eyes, smile curling at one corner of his mouth.
The night offers a slight breeze that makes Kuroo shiver on instinct even though it’s not really that chilly. Sawamura pulls the door closed behind them and sits with his back against it. Knees bent slightly he pats the spot next to him.
“Sit close if you’re cold.” Obviously Kuroo would sit close to him even if he wasn’t, but the explicit invitation makes him brave. He presses his entire left side along Sawamura’s right. Sawamura passes a can to Kuroo and pulls the tab on his own. It fizzes softly into the silence. Kuroo copies him, bending the tab back and forth until it snaps off like his mum always does with him. It snaps off on the eleventh. Sawamura raises an eyebrow questioningly.
“It means something good will happen in eleven days.” Sawamura’s eyebrow inches a little higher. “That’s what my mum always says.”
“Huh.” Sawamura bends his tab back and forth slowly, counting out loud. “Ten.” He says as it snaps off.
“Did you count the one that opened it?”
“No.” Sawamura’s grin spreads across his face, dimples sprouting. “Eleven.” Kuroo counts forward to eleven days from now. Wednesday week. He’s definitely going to make sure he sees Sawamura next Wednesday. “That’s us standing together you know.”
“Huh?” Kuroo watches Sawamura’s ears turn pink as he rotates the broken off tab between his fingers.
“Eleven.” Sawamura’s voice is almost a whisper. “It’s one and one standing next to each other. Our old Captain numbers.” Kuroo’s heart thuds. He tips his can towards Sawamura’s, hovering it next to his.
“It’s a good number.” It might be his new favourite in fact. “Cheers.” Sawamura’s eyes find his as he closes the gap between their two cans and knocks them against each other.
“Cheers.” Kuroo pulls his can away and takes a sip. It’s sweeter than he expects, but the fizz makes his nose wrinkle. He can feel Sawamura watching him out of the corner of his eye.
“What?”
“Don’t tell me this is your first drink.” Kuroo grins at him lopsidedly.
“Who would I have drunk with? Kenma?”
“Well, maybe not Kenma… Bokuto though?” Kuroo laughs at that.
“Maybe one day,” it’s a little hard to envision Bokuto quietly drinking with him on a balcony like this though. “But not today.”
“Yaku?”
“He tried vodka with Lev once.”
“You weren’t there?”
“I wasn’t there.”
“Yamamoto?”
“Not so far.”
“No senpai I don’t know about that led you astray?” Kuroo wiggles his can a little.
“The only one leading me astray is you, Sawamura.” Sawamura grimaces at that, eyes following Kuroo’s can and watching him as he takes his second sip. The fizz isn’t as bad this time around. It’s still sweet.
“Feels kind of good.”
“What does?”
“Getting to be the bad influence for once.” Kuroo barks a laugh.
“Well now you can brag to all the other bad influences that you were my first.” He knocks his can against Sawamura’s again, laughing at how red his face is turning. “No need to look so guilty,” he teases, “it would have happened eventually.” Sawamura lets out a huff of air.
“I don’t feel guilty.” The red is seeping down his neck. “I like being your first.” Kuroo’s pulse skyrockets into his throat. He stares at Sawamura. Watches as Sawamura’s eyes trace over the shape of his face. Watches the way his throat bobs as he swallows. Jesus, Kuroo thinks. Fuck.
Would it be too cliché of him to lean over and kiss him?
Would Sawamura know how much he meant it or would he assume he was the world’s worst lightweight and dismiss it as drunken and disorderly?
“Kinda wish I’d chosen something more exciting than beer though.” Sawamura breathes into the air between them. Kuroo’s leaned in so close he feels it brush across his own face.
“Beers plenty exciting,” Kuroo disagrees, “it’s sweet too.” Sawamura’s eyes flick to the label on his own can and back to Kuroo’s face.
“My dad picked them,” he admits, “he said you’d like this flavour.”
“Your dad?” Kuroo blinks, leaning away slightly as that bit of information seeps in. “Your dad bought these?”
“Well, yeah,” Sawamura’s voice has gone gruff like it always does when he’s embarrassed. “You didn’t think I’d stolen them, right?”
“Of course not,” that thought never crossed Kuroo’s mind at all, “I figured Asahi bought them.” Or perhaps Sugawara wrangled them out of somebody. Sawamura chuckles at that.
“He does look like an old man,” he nods. “But you know me, I had to ask my dad if it was okay for us to have a drink with the kids here.” There’s something so honest and so endearing about that. Imagining Sawamura thinking it would be nice to share a beer with him by the beach, of wanting to, but running the idea by his dad first. Of him trusting his dad and his dad trusting him back. He turns the can around in his palms. There’s just something so tacky sweet about his dad taking him to the store and suggesting him options he thinks Kuroo would like.
“Dude,” Kuroo chokes out, “that’s so cute.” His insides feel like honey.
“Yeah, yeah.” Sawamura rolls his eyes like Kuroo’s not serious, which just won’t do.
“Sawamura, I really mean it,” for some reason it’s important to him that Sawamura understands him, “it’s the cutest thing someone’s ever done for me.” Sawamura’s mouth drops open into a perfect little ‘o’.
“It’s just a beer,” he mumbles, staring at his own can like it’ll tell him something he doesn’t know.
“Nah-uh,” Kuroo insists. “It’s my first beer.” That Sawamura got specifically for him. He didn’t see a couple cans lying undrunk in his family’s fridge and chuck them into his bag on a perhaps or a maybe. He didn’t get given them by Sugawara or Asahi or happen to find them here in the hotel and think why not. He had thought of him and Kuroo at the beach this weekend together and wanted to get them. He’d sought out help from his dad of all people. “Thanks, Sawamura.” His face hurts from smiling. Their eyes meet.
Sawamura coughs around his can. Kuroo thumps him on the back a couple of times.
“Careful.” Kuroo doesn’t remove his hand from Sawamura’s back.
What’s wrong with being a little cliché anyway? He leans down, just a bit.
“Kuroo,” Sawamura blurts, his eyes blown wide, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
“Oh?” Kuroo tries not to panic. Surely Sawamura has no idea Kuroo was just about to kiss him, consequences be damned. Surely he’s not interrupted that to purposefully avoided being kissed. Surely.
“It’s not like I meant to keep it from you or anything. And I wasn’t even sure if it was going to be a real possibility until a couple weeks back. When I first even did it I honestly thought I’d get rejected and that would be that, you know?” He blows out a breath of nervous air. It’s rare for Sawamura to babble on this much; it’s pretty cute. Kuroo smiles in encouragement.
“You know you can always tell me anything.” Sawamura’s thumbs press a soft dent into the can he’s holding between them. Kuroo’s polite enough not to mention it.
“It’s still not definite. Especially if you’re not okay with it.” When the silence stretches on a beat too long Kuroo nudges him with his shoulder. Sawamura turns to look his straight in the eyes as he says: “I got accepted into Nippon.”
Several thoughts whoosh through Kuroo’s head all at once: That’s the university he’s going to, he specifically remembers telling Sawamura that was his top choice at their joint training camp when Bokuto had been yammering on about Tokai being the best university for volleyball, but Nippon is a sports science specialist university and also has a really great women’s team, besides Kuroo’s mum dreamed of studying there and he has his heart set on it for her, and don’t they play in navy, Sawamura would look really nice in navy, and wait, doesn’t that mean they’d be playing on the same team? And doesn’t that mean–
“Lego Sawamura is in Tokyo.” For whatever reason that’s the thought that crystalises in his mind. The twins already know. Sawamura groans, rubbing a hand down his face.
“Sorry about that.” Kuroo has no idea why Sawamura is apologising. “They were over when the letter arrived. It was a whole thing,” he admits sheepishly.
“They cried?” Kuroo guesses.
“They cried.” Kuroo can easily imagine it. For as long as he’s known Sawamura, he’s told him he was going to go to university in Miyagi to be close to the twins. At one point he’s sure Sawamura told him what he studies isn’t even that important and he’s only going to get a degree to keep his mum from nagging.
“You’re coming to Nippon?”
“Only if you’re okay with it.”
“Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?” Kuroo would be so okay with it he thinks he might cry himself. It’s humbling to realise he has the same emotional responses as a pair of eight-year-olds.
“Kuroo,” Sawamura narrows his eyes, searching Kuroo’s face for something, “I can’t tell if I haven’t made it obvious enough yet or if you’re a special kind of dense.”
“Oi,” Kuroo pokes him on instinct. He knows he should feel offended, but he’s too full of happiness at the moment to really care. Sawamura’s going to be in Tokyo. That’s where Kuroo lives.
“Kuroo,” Sawamura’s using his Captain voice, the one he brings out when he’s trying his hardest to be patient. “I applied to Nippon because it was your university.”
“You did?” Sawamura nods.
“I only want to go there if you’re there. Do you get it now?” Kuroo thinks he can’t be getting it. Because what he’s getting is that Sawamura is following Kuroo, which can’t be right, because if Sawamura were following Kuroo wouldn’t that mean–
Sawamura places his can on the floor next to him and leans across Kuroo to grab his and put it on the floor too. He takes Kuroo now empty hand and places it over his chest, right where his heart is. It’s thudding at a similar frantic pace as Kuroo’s own.
“I’m a little bit in love with you.” Sawamura whispers so quietly Kuroo knows he wouldn’t have heard him at all if he wasn’t pressed this close to him. “So you have to tell me if you’re okay with it.” Kuroo stares at Sawamura. His face is burning, his heart pounding under Kuroo’s hand; he might be the bravest person Kuroo knows.
“I’ve been a lot in love with you for ages.” He blurts, much louder than he means too. But it hardly matters because Sawamura’s smile dissolves onto his face, dimples winking directly at Kuroo.
“Yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” Kuroo nods furiously. “Everyone knows but you.” Sawamura laughs, slipping his hand from where it’s holding Kuroo’s over his chest up to his wrist, along his arm and straight past his shoulder until it’s resting on Kuroo’s neck. Kuroo thinks he might leap out of his body.
“You just told me.” His fingers twitch right under Kuroo’s ears.
“Nervous, Sawamura?” Kuroo had aimed for cocky, but his voice comes out awed and breathless instead.
“Not as nervous as you.” Kuroo can’t accept that.
And aren’t clichés good every once in a while?
Kuroo leans down and kisses Sawamura. Sawamura’s fingers twitch harder before latching behind his neck and tugging him forward. He gasps a little muted sound when Kuroo opens his mouth, but he opens his in return and hums when Kuroo licks into his mouth.
He tastes like sweet beer and four years in Tokyo together.
Kuroo twists into him, a knee landing between Sawamura’s and his hands onto the sliding door behind him and kisses Sawamura for earlier in the car as they drove to the beach and he wanted to kiss him over the console. He kisses him again for each time he’d fantasized about it at the beach and kisses him especially deeply for just moments ago when he was definitely going to before Sawamura interrupted him. Fingers play at the base of his hair and tug gently. Kuroo lets them pull him away, panting to catch his breath.
“Woah.” Sawamura’s eyes have never looked darker. Kuroo kisses the tip of his nose because he’s always wanted to and because he can.
“Woah.” He echoes when he thinks he can breathe again. Sawamura’s hands haven’t stopped lightly tugging at his hair and it’s doing strange things to Kuroo’s stomach. He settles back on his own heels, leaning into the tug, but also freeing up his hands from holding his weight up so that he can hold onto Sawamura’s shoulders. He’s had more dreams about Sawamura’s broad shoulders than he’d like to admit.
“You’re so hot.” It’s a like a warm balm of relief to finally be able to say it out loud. It feels doubly good when it makes Sawamura’s face flush bright red. “Watching you at the beach today was killing me.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Sawamura snorts out a laugh.
“What?”
“Watching you at the beach today was killing me.” Kuroo raises an eyebrow incredulously, thinking back.
“At what point?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Sawamura pretends to think, “maybe when I saw you shirtless for the first time and couldn’t stop myself from touching you?”
“What?” Kuroo’s pretty sure he’d remember something like that. “When did that happen?” Sawamura blows an exasperated breath out of the side of his mouth.
“You’re so dense,” he tugs Kuroo’s face closer and says seriously, “no one gets to swim before they put on sun cream.” Kuroo feels his face grow hot.
“But that made sense! It’s a sensible rule!” Kuroo thinks back to that meticulous little finger running along the seam of his trunks and groans deeply. “What was all a ploy?”
“Not entirely,” Sawamura smiles innocently, “sun protection is important.” Who knew Sawamura could be so devious?
“I like you so much.” Kuroo blurts, squeezing Sawamura’s shoulders. “Sawamura, I really like you so much.” He probably sounds pathetic, but Sawamura doesn’t seem to care, tipping his head back a little to chuckle fondly, eyes sparkling.
“That’s good,” he hums, voice warm and sweet, “because I really like you so much, Tetsurou.” Then he leans up and kisses Kuroo’s shocked whine right off his face, the bastard.
• • • •
Kuroo wakes up abruptly to the sound of the sliding door slamming open. His face is pressed firmly on top of Sawamura’s head and one of his legs is hooked around Sawamura’s torso. Sawamura doesn’t seem bothered by either of those things, snoring softly into the underside of Kuroo’s neck; one of his arms is stuffed up the back of Kuroo’s t-shirt.
“I think they fell asleep outside.” Asami is not very good at whispering, but it’s cute that she still tries. Yusei sighs dramatically.
“That’s how you catch a cold.”
“Maybe they were looking at stars.”
“They’ll still catch a cold.”
“Oh!” Asami’s voice brightens. “We have blankets!” The sliding door rattles closed, louder than before, and he listens to their feet scampering away. Sawamura’s eyelashes flutter against his neck.
“Kitty Cat?” He murmurs, voice gravelly with sleep. Kuroo hums and shamelessly kisses the side of his face before the kids return.
“Morning Daichi,” he says because he can, heart blooming in his chest, “I think it’s breakfast time.” Sawamura groans, pulling Kuroo closer before jerking up when the door flies open again.
“Oh.” Asami pouts, evidently disappointed. “You’re awake.” Sawamura rubs the sleep out of his eyes and beams at them.
“Thanks anyway.” He nods at the blanket they’re holding between them. “Who wants pancakes?” Yusei cheers loudly, running back inside and inadvertently tugging Asami along behind him as she’s still clutching her side of the blanket. They leave the door open this time and Sawamura sighs, rolling to his knees then standing up. He turns to Kuroo, cheeks dusted in a blush Kuroo is going to remember forever and holds out a hand, “You coming?”
“Ah huh,” Kuroo nods, taking his hand and not letting go this time even when he’s stood up. He rubs his thumb over the back of Sawamura’s hand. “Pancakes are my favourite.” Sawamura turns to look up at him.
“I know that.” Jesus, Kuroo thinks, stepping up close and pressing a kiss to Sawamura’s mouth. Fuck.
“Breakfast first,” his smile goes wolfish; Sawamura raises an eyebrow. “Then it’s my turn to put cream on you.” Sawamura groans.
“I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“Sun protection is important!” He squawks, laughing as Sawamura shoves at his shoulder and tries to walk away. “It’s a family rule!”