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It's been not even half a year and Kuroo is already losing his focus during practise, something which wouldn't have bothered him back at Nekoma. But at the university where he is part of a team which doesn't feel like one yet, all he can think of is being a failure.
And so at some point, instead of pushing himself, he just gives up and helps one of their managers out.
Since there is not much to do though, the rest of the evening practise is spend watching his other teammates train. But his gaze lingers on Daishou longer than on his other teammates, like it does so often the past days. Maybe watching him like this helps Kuroo to figure it out.
It doesn't and leaves him feeling helpless.
Kuroo isn't really sure what to do. He can't be the only one, can he? Realising that something is wrong. Daishou had been training harder these past days, to improve his serves he said, but this still doesn't explain some of the bruises on his arms. Kuroo suspect something.
(Why don't the others?)
“Yoshi-san? Do you have a moment?”
Training ended and since their coach isn't present, it's only their captain he can go to; Kuroo made up his mind during all his musing. The older one even looks like he expected him to come, but instead of acting smug, he just seems worried.
“You okay?”
“No. Can we talk?”
“Sure.”
The captain pats the place next to him on the bench, silently asking him to sit down. Kuroo does, but rather reluctantly. Words are heavy on his tongue and suddenly it feels impossible to force them out. His captain is patient, waving at his fellow teammates to go on ahead without him. Kuroo feels guilty for keeping him after practise and clean up ended.
“It's about Daishou... He doesn't seem to be doing well.”
“How so?”
He starts timidly, but eventually it all spills. How there is no way for the bruises to be caused by volleyballs alone, how he remembers his mother talking about the Daishou family, wealthy but always a smile which hid what happened behind closed curtains. He feels a bit embarrassed afterwards.
“Am I just overreacting?”, he wonders, unable to look Yoshi in the eyes; his captain shakes his head, doesn't berate him.
“He is a good actor and you know him for a while. While Kyou realised something, he couldn't really tell. But we thought you guys are old enough to come with your problems to us or anyone else. I'm graduating this year, so I can't do much. But I will talk to the others, they might be able to talk some sense in him.”
“Thank you.”
“Kuroo?”
“Yes?”
“If someone doesn't want people to find out how they feel, they make sure that nobody does. Don't beat yourself up over it.”
“I won't. Thank you.”
(It's a lie, both know it.)
Daishou looks furious. He is furious. Kuroo comes early to practise on Thursdays because of a free period, something most of the first semester are aware of, including Daishou who must have planned to corner him now.
“You told them, didn't you?”, he hisses, unmistakeably blaming Kuroo for whatever happened.
“I have no idea what – ”
Before Kuroo can say anything, Daishou shoves him against a wall.
“How dare you meddle with this?”
The grip around his collar tightens and Kuroo fears that he isn't going to get out of this conversation without bruises. But to his surprise, Daishou lets go and Kuroo almost falls over.
“Keep out of this.”
He is gone and leaves an even more worried Kuroo behind.
(He comes back later for practise, but he doesn't speak a word to him.)
Word goes around that they fought. While they used to bicker, everyone could see that it was just how they learned to communicate with each other. The silence was not comfortable, but as first years, they weren't going to play yet, so their coach wasn't worried about misses during matches. Training was another thing, but with a bit help, Kuroo learned to forget about anything private as soon as he stepped in the gym, leaving any emotion about it at the door (and taking them back as soon as he steps out again, unable to get rid of these.)
So it doesn't come as a surprise that when Daishou has a bruise on his cheekbone and Kuroo is the first one seen by his side because he can't keep himself from rushing to him, people accuse him. Kuroo doesn't blame them – though there is also a part of him which is disappointed – and so he accepts the looks he gets. That is, until their captain asks out loud if there is a problem someone wants to address and everyone is quiet.
The last semester students had been quiet form the beginning and so their worried glances had also been resting on his back; Kuroo finally gets what Daishou meant, that their captain must have told them. And so it isn't a surprise any more when their regular setter, Kyou, takes Daishou by his side and the bruise is covered by make-up when they return.
Kuroo excuses himself and leaves earlier that day.
(Their captain doesn't stop him.)
Don't care, don't care, don't fucking care.
Kuroo repeats these words in his head, over and over again, but he can't stop and it drives him insane. His mother had already seen that something is wrong with him, but when he had heard her talking with his dad, his father assured her that it has to be university stress. And if not, he will come ask for help. But Kuroo isn't sure about that. He still feels like a child, why does everyone suddenly expects him to act independently?
Kuroo wants to scream.
He curls up on his bed instead and keeps it inside.
Daishou doesn't show up to practise and Kuroo internally freaks out. The only reason he doesn't show outside how he feels is his upperclassman. Yoshi says he wants to practise and takes him along with other first years to a three on three – blocking the spikes of their ace helps, the slight pain numbing his feeling of helplessness.
(He doesn't realise that their setter and middle blocker are missing as well.)
Kuroo's body hurts afterwards, is aching, and he longs for a long hot bath. Their bathroom only has a big tube, but is too small for his long legs to be comfortable. However at this point he doesn't even mind as long as he can relax just a bit.
When he comes home, there is an additional pair of shoes in the entrance. His mother returns his greeting, smiling at him. It has something sad to it and makes his stomach churn. Kuroo wants to ask, but he feels like he knows and hurries to his room.
(The shoes were too big for Kenma's small feet.)
“Daishou?”
He doesn't look at him, curled up on his bed and back facing him. There is a bag Kuroo only realises when he sits on the bed's edge.
“Hey, you – ” Kuroo reaches out, but Daishou's hand shoots up and his fingers close around Kuroo's wrist. He glares at him, but his eyes are red and glossed over.
“Don't”, he hisses, “stop comforting me. You have no fucking right to.”
Daishou takes a deep breath, as if he had trouble doing so before. Kuroo wonders if this is okay. If he should stay and comfort him. Make him talk. Or was he supposed to leave him alone? It was his fault. If he hadn't talked about his captain, Daishou wouldn't have been out. He would not -
“Fuck, breath you prick”, Daishou curses, hand on his back, his own position forgotten.
Kuroo exhales a deep breath. He hadn't realised it, tearing at his hair, but when he looks down on his hands, they are shaking. His whole body is. He presses his eyes closed, doesn't see the surprise flash across the other one's face. It's too much. Kuroo isn't ready for all of this, people though he was mature, could lead them. He is not. How can he be when the though of a friend (because Daishou is, as much as they try to deny) being hurt shocks him so much?
“I'm sorry”, he whispers, over and over again so that at one point, neither even knows any more what he is apologising for.
+
There is a knock on the door, the voice of Kuroo's mother following.
“I made dinner. I leave it in the kitchen so you can get something anytime you like.”
Neither gets up. The are lying face to face on his bed, without talking. Daishou has his hand covering Kuroo's, keeping it from shaking. They are breathing in sync. It's the calmest and most peaceful time they had in weeks. Eventually, Daishou breaks said silence.
“I was planning to move out. Already saved up enough money.”
Normally Kuroo would tell him that he doesn't have to do that, that his family is rich enough to get him a small flat so that he can live there with his parents taking care of all the financial stuff. But maybe this is the reason why he did, wanting to do something without relying on his parents. Nevertheless he doesn't say anything. Daishou seems to understand.
“Yesterday I got a letter, informing me that there was a free room in the dorms. I just needed to accept in a span of three days. Told my parents. He wasn't really happy about it. I said I would have moved out anyway and he did tolerate it in the end.”
He wasn't to ask what happened, that this can't be the end because otherwise he wouldn't have a bruise more visible than the other's or been missing a whole day. But it's not his place to do so and he is tired. So is Daishou. He continues anyway.
“When I was packing some stuff, he was babbling something about responsibility and not crawling back for money. I couldn't keep my mouth shout. Said something stupid. Deserved the punch.”
Kuroo can imagine it. The smile on Daishou's lips, a cover for the venomous words, something which would have bewildered and intimidated others but caused anger when it was directed at someone who taught him how to fool people.
“Couldn't control my words today as well. Panicked when I wrote the upperclassman.”
“They got you out”, Kuroo says, dumbfounded, realisation dawning on him.
They did what neither of them could, would probably even go back with Daishou if he needed something; he doubts that the bag holds everything necessary. Kuroo realises that during the past days he though that he knew what had been happening, but in reality he knows nothing. Even now he barely grasps what had been happening. As far as Daishou is concerned, he could just go back again the next day and all involved would act as if nothing had happened. It was very likely. This family treasured their mask more than anything.
“Didn't expect them to”, Daishou agrees.
For a second he thinks about offering to help as well, call Bokuto who's playing with Oikawa and Sawamura on a team, three more people who look intimidating enough. He doesn't. The only, most responsible thing he can do now is offer promises, assure him that he is always there if he needs it from now on. However as good as Kuroo is at figuring out that something had been wrong with him, Daishou is able to figure him out as well.
“Don't think that you owe me anything. At the moment you need as much help as anybody else, shouldering other's stuff is going to break you.”
“How considerate of you”, Kuroo says, though it's missing any real bite, sounds weak and tired.
They fall silent again, despite of the fact that they want to say more. Talk to each other. Without any hostility. Maybe next time, Kuroo thinks.
“I get us something to eat. Wait here.”
“You're allowed to eat outside the dining room?”
“Nope. Mum hates me eating in my room.”
Neither says something else and when Kuroo comes back with some food, they continue to eat in silence.
(This quiet is unlike the other times during which they had nothing to say to each other and yet it's painful in its own way.)
“You look better”, Nori mentions a weak later during a break; Kuroo just raises an eyebrow in confusion.
“Well, you see”, the older middle blocker says, “you've been on edge the past days and Yoshi was already worrying we have to pull you away from it. And this is not just about Suguru, no need to lie to me.”
There had always been something about the other one Kuroo was unable to understand. He was observant and did not just help Kuroo practising from time to time, but he was also top of his classes, something Kuroo who studies in the same field admired. He feels bad for causing them to worry.
“Ah, there is it again. Exactly this expression. You shouldn't think that everything is your fault. Get rid of that attitude. Kind people have it hard enough nowadays.”
Nori pats his shoulders and resumes practise. Kuroo joins him a few seconds later, wondering how he is supposed to work this out when he doesn't even know what it is himself.
Kuroo knows the layout of university dorms because of Yaku, even though it's a different one he attends. Daishou's place doesn't look very different. It's not dirty, clean, rather small but holds enough place for important stuff. This doesn't apply to two young man who try to find a comfortable position on the bed to make room for long legs.
Kuroo kind of wished that they had gone to his house, but Daishou was still ashamed because of the day he had shown up at his parents door with their upperclassmen who asked to let him in. Not that he said it to him directly. Kuroo already had a talk with his mother afterwards, explaining yet omitting his own insecurities.
“I'm glad that you help, you're a good friend, Tetsurou”, she had said with a smile and kissed his forehead.
“So”, Kuroo asks, leaning against the wall, “what kind of video are we reviewing anyway?”
“Some match of the national team against Brazil, I think. Or was it Argentina?”
Daishou doesn't seem to care, opening his laptop and starting the disc they got from their coach; apparently it's what all new members do, studying new techniques or analysing their opponents. It's not like he hadn't done that at Nekoma, so it was a nice familiarity. That Daishou was the one to do so with was unfortunate, but nothing he couldn't bear.
And in the end, despite of a few remarks here and there, they did manage to review the footage and Kuroo hated to admit it, but it was nice.
It feels like the past few days have been nothing but imagination and yet, even though he is aware of it not being the case, he can't help looking forward.
Unfortunately things always change when they don't want to.
“I think I'm in love with him.”
Kai smiles while Yaku just raises an eyebrow.
“And you're telling us that now because...?”, Yaku wants to know, looking at Kai who is probably as surprised as he is and yet not showing it; when they wanted to spend some time at Kuroo's place to catch up as friend, confessions were certainly not planned.
“I have no idea.”
“Huh.”
“Holy shit”, Kuroo hisses, as if he had just realised his own words, “I love him.”
“We heard you the first time. It's okay.”
“No, it's not. He hates me. Or at least he will when I tell him.”
“Kuroo, I don't think that –”
“He is reconciling with his father, or trying to. Even if he reciprocates, he would never agree, he can't disappoint his father.”
“Kuroo, take a deep breath”, Kai says, hand on his back while Yaku comes up at his other side; Kuroo does just that, fingers pressing against his thumb in turn to calm down, counting like Kenma had shown him once when everything had been too much.
“Good, just like that.”
It's reassuring, having friends like these two who calm him down. It feels like it's been ages since they've been tiny first years at Nekoma who just met each other and yet it feels natural to be at each other's side. He is able to rely on them, just like they can, but it's him alone who needs to work up the courage to confess or not, deciding on it. How far he is going to take this relationship they have. Kuroo is scared.
Of what he isn't entirely sure of.
“Is everything okay with you?”, Kyou asks Daishou after practise.
“Yeah. Why?”
“Huh.”
Daishou isn't really fond of their setter. He always seems like he isn't interested in dealing with them and even if he was thankful for all of his help, he'd rather keep their interaction limited on the court.
“Well, Kuroo looks like shit. He always does so when he beats himself up over something, Nori says, and since he asked to review footage with someone else, we thought... Anyway if you're okay there is nothing to worry about.”
Daishou blinks, confused. Kuroo had done what? Their setter assumes his duty is done, so he turns and leaves before Daishou can ask what he meant by this; that's why he doesn't like him. Seems as if there is only one person left to ask.
“The heck are you doing?”
Kuroo startles when Daishou shows up next to him, hands vanishing in his pockets.
“Aren't you going to –”
“Spare yourself the excuse. I thought you'd be man enough to tell me that you don't want to work together. But apparently you're just a coward. A scaredy-cat, how fitting”, he spits, trying to sound as angry as possible even if he actually just feels disappointed.
“Yeah, you're right.”
Daishou's freezes, the missing bickering causing confusion. Kuro was supposed to tell him he just got tired, wanted to try working with someone else. That he wasn't his only friend but shouldn't feel lonely without him. Instead he doesn't even manage to look at him.
“I'm... excuse me, I'm going then.”
Daishou watches how he vanishes. Doesn't follow him. Can't even manage to form a response in his head. Did they take a step back? He thought they actually achieved something the past weeks. It's been three months since he moved out and albeit it had taken a bit of time, he started to appreciate what Kuroo had done. That he might like him past friendship was something he didn't dare to imagine before and is something he doesn't feel like admitting even now, but another reason why this sudden behaviour hurts.
They should probably talk. Because he knows Kuroo. Kuroo who despite of the way he presented himself and fooling around with his friends was full of insecurities, thinking how to please anyone. Who doesn't worry how people see him like Kozume but how he affects them. Who wants to help those he thought he had wronged. And who will probably continue to avoid him for a while. Because he thinks his action might be the best for Daishou, ignoring his own emotional need.
Taking out his phone, Daishou looks at Kuroo's number, thumb hovering over the call button. This is new. So far Kuroo had chased him and not the other way around. He doesn't know where to start or what to say. This is why he goes to the only other person which comes to his mind.
(They had helped Kuroo before and Daishou hopes he won't mind giving him some advice as well.)
“Tetsurou, your friend is here”, his mother calls.
Kuroo doesn't need time to figure out who it can be, not with the past days. Maybe he also just doesn't want to imagine it being someone else. Even if he looks pretty bad at the moment, hair a mess, wearing nothing but grey jogging pants and a red shirt; despite of the urge to look presentable, he can't bring up the energy to change, to keep him waiting. And neither does Daishou, doesn't bother to greet him, standing in front of Kuroo's bed which the other one is sitting on, papers spread on the blanket.
“Apparently our captain isn't as nice as we thought we'd be. He said I should, take the stick out of my ass and fucking talk to you and deal with our problem before he is going to throw us off the team.”
Kuroo feels sick again. He has his eyes on a random paper, his own writing and yet unable to read it. He didn't mean to cause something like this. But before he can continue this thought, Daishou starts talking again.
“I told him there is no problem, just some miscommunication. Or is there?”
Taking a deep breath, Kuroo raises his head to look at him – it's the first time that he is aware of how much hurt there is in his eyes, that he could actually feel betrayed by him. And it hits him then, that even though he doesn't feel like a big help, he had been, always by his side, watching, waiting in case he is needed. And Daishou had been used to this, maybe even felt safe, safer than he had in a while.
“Kuroo?”, Daishou asks, wondering why the other one hesitates, looking as if there is a problem after all (there are, obviously, but Daishou liked to think there were those they could handle and those they can't – the later were not part of his assumption) .
He doesn't reply. Instead, he takes his papers, organising them like he sorted his thoughts in this moment, those he can't admit in front of him and those he probably should say. Words he isn't ready to utter.
“I wish I could say that I like you”, he eventually mutters, despite of his better judgement, “but I don't think that this is the right thing to say because it took so much time until we were able to call each other friends.”
“And you think this is a decision you can just make on your own?”
“What?”
Kuroo simply raises an eyebrow. In other situations he might be tempted to tease him. See how far he'd go. If he is serious. But now he is curious, hands curled up in his lap. Waiting. Daishou doesn't seem mad and for a second Kuroo believes that he might like him as well. But just as that thought crosses his mind, he feels ashamed.
“I think I can decide on my own how I'm going to react to a confession.”
Daishou tries to sound angry, but the blush on his cheeks is betraying him, showing how embarrassed he is despite of the frown. It throws Kuroo off-guard, confuses him even more.
“But... I don't get it. Why would you need time to think about a decision? Daishou, I like you. I don't see how a relationship – ”
“No. You know what, fuck you. I can't believe that after all this time I'm the one who has to tell you how much of an idiot you are. Always feeling the need to interfere even though nobody asks. And when you're the one who is involved simply deciding on your own to solve it. This isn't going to work from now on.”
“From now on?”, Kuroo repeats, confused by his words.
“What, you think I'm going to ignore your confession?”
“I don't want you to feel obliged to act on my feelings.”
“Stop. Don't assume”, Daishou says, almost biting his tongue, stammering a bit, “I do l-like you, I guess.”
“Are you forcing yourself?”
Daishou wants to scream. Kuroo is so perceptive on the field, and even off the court he is rather good at reading people. But when it involves himself, he has such a trouble understanding, as if he feels unworthy of anything a person wishes for him.
“No, damn it, I can't believe you.”
“You – ”
“I'm going to kiss you”, Daishou interrupts him, though stays where he is, gives Kuroo time to act, to react, in case he feels uncomfortable, “okay?”
Slowly the situations seems to catch up to him. Kuroo unclenches his fists, moving over so that he is sitting at the bed's edge, allowing Daishou to move between his legs.
“Okay.”
Daishou doesn't hesitate, scared that they might consider this a mistake when they wait just because they are afraid of hurting each other. But the way he gently cups his cheeks after kneeling between his legs, Daishou wonders why he hadn't done so earlier, searching for closeness instead of bickering. But before he continues this thought, he leans forward and presses his lips against Kuroo's.
“Okay?”, Daishou murmurs against his lips, looking at the other one who had closed his eyes, opening them slowly too look at him directly.
Daishou is resisting the urge to kiss him again, at least until he tells him that he doesn't feel disgusted. Because he might like to tease him, but he is no asshole who forces himself on people. That's why it surprises him when Kuroo hides his face in his shirt, arms wrapping around him; he allows it, returning the embrace to show that he wants to return the comfort.
“Yeah.”
(And in this moment, it wasn't a lie.)
“Hey, lazy cat.”
“Hm?”
Kuroo doesn't show any signs of moving, curled up and head resting on Daishou's stomach. It's his new favourite spot to take a nap which helps him dealing with sleepless nights. And considering the size of Daishou's bed, it leaves enough room for both of them.
“Anything you planned on Saturday?”, he wants to know, moving his hand to brush trough the mess of hair, smiling to himself; Kuroo has still closed his eyes, so he doesn't fear any teasing (not that Kuroo does that when he looks so content, doesn't want to be pushed off the bed – he knows that Daishou doesn't hesitate to kick him when he feels embarrassed)
“No.”
Daishou moves his hand from Kuroo's hair to his neck, thumb gently massaging a spot, an action which doesn't just elicit the other one a sigh but also calms himself down; he wonders why he is so nervous, after all it's just a question. He doesn't want to wait too long though, after all this would just make him suspicious and the other one doesn't have to worry about it.
“Found a small place to stay at. My aunt helps me pay for it. Though I need to get some furniture from home.”
Kuroo looks up to him, thinking. It's probably the closest ask for help he will hear from him. He doesn't answer immediately, closing his eyes when the hand trails down and fingertips start to caress his back – it's not a cheap tactic to wrap him around his fingers, just a way to keep his hands busy and calm himself down.
(Kuroo is still relieved how both of them find calm in each other's arm, that he is allowed to crave his touch and have it reciprocated).
“I'm going to call Bokuto”, is the eventual reply, apparently satisfying enough because while Daishou remains silent, he doesn't stop his caressing; Kuroo allows his eyes to fall shut again and sighs in contentment.
He might not have received a direct question, yet Kuroo is ready to help in a way which won't burden them. Small steps are steps after all.
“They better not let any of the furniture fall. I'll sue them for even the smallest scratch I can find.”
Kuroo just snorts.
“Don't tell them. Oikawa will do it out of spite.”
Daishou just hums, tugging at his shirt. Kuroo gets the hint and moves up, meeting him in a kiss. One more. And another. Until they groan, pulling apart.
“I hope you have a bigger bed then. Before I ruin my back”, Kuroo complains, stretching while trying to avoid hitting the other one.
“Going to buy a new one. Unless you guys want to carry a king-sized bed.”
“Oho? Sounds promising.”
Daishou just rolls with his eyes when Kuroo grins at him, nudging him with his elbow; his playful but enough to cause Kuroo to lose balance and fall, though he doesn't hesitate when he grabs the other one and pulls him along.
“Hello there”, Kuroo says, grinning up at Daishou who fell on top of him; the floor isn't that much better for his spine, but it's okay when it means that Daishou is the one who leans down and kisses him.
“Tell that owl I owe him when he carries that bed with the other's”, Daishou suddenly says, hand resting next to his head to support him, looking down at his boyfriend.
“Not Sawamura?”
“Bokuto sulks if they refuse. Makes it easier for them to feel guilty and agree”, he admits without any hint of remorse, causing Kuroo to laugh.
“Manipulative prick.”
“You wanted the bigger bed”, he points out, words mumbled against his lips while he feels hands sneaking up his sides, coming to rest on his hips.
“I do. Though I don't mind sharing the small space. Making the best of it.”
“Tetsu?”
“Hm?”
'Move in with me', he wants to say. Means it. Not just a whim. But it's too early for that. They started to settle in a routine, get comfortable around each other. Yet there are still moments in which everything is too much for Kuroo or Daishou acts brash after a call with his parents. He doesn't know if he will ever be able to ask him that. He hopes it nevertheless.
“Let's make the best of it now.”
Kuroo is aware that this isn't all he wanted to say. But he also knows that he means what he said in the end, so he doesn't push it and smiles at him; he loves when Daishou blushes in return like he does in this second, when he isn't embarrassed about it and allows Kuroo to see it instead of covering his face.
“Yeah, okay.”
A lot of things are okay nowadays. Better than before. Not perfect, probably not even good, but okay.
Especially in these moments Kuroo never wants to end.