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He’s fucking stupid, Tetsurou knows, but there’s genius in stupidity, Tetsurou thinks.
“In theory — according to what you’ve taught me, anyway — since PV over T equals PV over T, if I put this balloon in the freezer,” Koutarou gestures toward Kuroo’s fridge, “the volume will decrease.”
Tetsurou thinks Koutarou is trying to sound smart by using phrases like “in theory,” which he usually hypocritically looks down upon, but Tetsurou also thinks Koutarou is adorable, so endearment overshadows disdain.
“If the pressure is held at a constant,” Tetsurou nods.
“Awesome.” Koutarou, balloon still in hand, closes Tetsurou’s freezer door, proceeds to grab a fork, and pops the balloon. “Where does that sound come from?”
Recovering from a flinch, Tetsurou answers, “Bro, you’re, like, five. A superbly obnoxious five-year-old.”
“Fill in the blank, Kuroo!” Theatrically, Koutarou winks. “Curiosity is…”
“The enemy of communism.”
“I was thinking the key to learning, but that works, too.”
Tetsurou and Koutarou have always had bits of philosophical garbage shoot out of their mouths during everyday conversation, so Tetsurou thinks nothing of this.
“I’ve been super curious lately,” Koutarou observes aloud, strutting toward Tetsurou, who’s sitting on his family kitchen’s island, and Tetsurou swears, if Koutarou moves one step closer, this’ll turn into a rerun of a wet dream (or nightmare) that he had last week.
“Is that so?” Tetsurou drawls.
“Yep,” Koutarou answers nonchalantly.
If Tetsurou didn’t find Koutarou’s golden eyes so blasphemously attractive, maybe he’d be disappointed by how anticlimactic that was. But maybe there was a climax that Tetsurou just didn’t hear because he stopped listening once Koutarou reached him at the island.
And Koutarou, deciding to ask Tetsurou if he thinks frogs belong in balloons, realizes that Tetsurou is no longer listening because he replies with a firm “of course.”
“Are you curious about anything?” Koutarou asks.
“Totally.”
”What's anything?”
“Yes.”
“Kuroo.”
“What?”
“What’s anything?”
“Huh?” Tetsurou looks at Koutarou now. This time his ears are open.
“Are you curious about…” Koutarou widens his eyes and starts to move his hands in a circle to prompt Kuroo’s answer.
“Nah.” Tetsurou slips off the island
“But you just said you’re totally curious about something,” Koutarou steps forward with a smile, preventing Tetsurou from leaving.
“Did I?” Tetsurou gasps. “It just so happens that I’m no longer curious.”
“Give me an answer. Oh my god, Kuroo, I’m gonna go emo,” Koutarou pouts
With a mock-resigned sigh, Tetsurou says, “I’m curious about why you’re so curious about what I’m curious about.”
“‘Cause I think you might be curious about having something in common with Ser Loras Tyrell.”
How easily Koutarou just says things like that never fails to shock Tetsurou.
“Am I right? I’m not right about a lot, but I’m pretty sure I’m right about that. Definitely sure I’m right about that. The face you’re making looks like I’m right,” Koutarou nods, mostly to himself, before shrugging, “Well, I guess we better solve this mystery before we tell everyone you’re gay.”
“Bi,” Tetsurou corrects. “The term is bicurious, not gaycurious.”
“Same thing.”
“They’re so not,” Tetsurou scoffs.
“Keep telling yourself that. Anyway, pucker up, buttercup,” Koutarou smiles his contagious smile and takes Tetsurou’s face in both of his hands.
Yes, Tetsurou wants Koutarou to kiss him. Yes, he thinks Koutarou is about to kiss him. However, Tetsurou isn’t sure that Koutarou has a very good reason why. “Woah woah, woah, hold the fuck up, dude,” Tetsurou settles his fingers into a firm grip on Koutarou’s shoulders.
Koutarou cocks his head nearly ninety degrees, the way an owl would, and he stares at Tetsurou with wide, blinking eyes.
“Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re so fucking cu—” Tetsurou stops himself there before he says something he regrets.
“What if I wanna know if I’m gay, too?” Koutarou asks.
“You should know if you’re gay.”
“Exactly.”
Tetsurou holds one of his hands up, so he can bury his face in it. “You know…,” he groans, “you know! You know that isn’t what I meant!”
Gently brushing Tetsurou’s cheeks with his thumbs, Koutarou says, “I think you should experiment with your best friend.”
Tetsurou ignores the heat in his cheeks. “Kenma won't be down for that.”
Koutarou doesn’t seem upset like Tetsurou had expected. If anything, he seems minorly annoyed, but he brushes it off quickly because he leans in closer, pressing their foreheads together. “Just kiss me once.”
Tetsurou sighs. He looks away, but he leans into Koutarou’s hands.
It’s a favorable offer under unfavorable circumstances.
“Only once.”
“Only once,” Koutarou agrees, his voice low and serious.
Tetsurou isn’t sure what expectations he formed from imagining Koutarou’s lips on his, maybe three thousand times before, but it wasn’t this.
This tastes like Dr. Pawpaw balm and apples, and this feels like a messy slip n’ slide and soft lip-bites, and this sounds like quiet gasps and hitching breaths, and this smells like aftershave’s sequoia wood and sage, and this looks like… darkness. That, Tetsurou is sure, is the primary difference between real life and fantasy.
“Bo,” Tetsurou mumbles against his friend’s lips. He slowly opens his eyes to take in Koutarou’s thick eyelashes and his grey and black hair clustered in Tetsurou’s fist.
“‘Sup?” Koutarou blinks at Tetsurou like what they just did was completely normal.
“Oh, fuck off,” Tetsurou scoffs.
“Not yet! You have to tell me if you’re gay first!”
“One stupid kiss isn’t going to tell me if I’m gay or not.” Tetsurou thinks he isn’t lying. He thinks that, if anything, his hundred fantasies about his best friend were what told him he’s got a gay streak in him, not the kiss.
Koutarou clucks his tongue disappointedly, wraps his arms around Tetsurou’s waist, and rests his head on Tetsurou’s shoulder. “This is gay, right? Even if we hugged before?”
“I mean, you just kissed me, so it’s just kind of a gay atmosphere right now.”
Koutarou nods, and although Tetsurou can’t see it, he feels it. “You right. When can we fuck?”
“Wow, you’re the reason my sister hates boys.” Despite himself, Tetsurou grips Koutarou’s hair tighter.
“Hey!” Koutarou frowns, “I meant it in a nice way!”
“Why do you wanna fuck?”
“‘Cause,” Koutarou grins against Tetsurou’s shoulder, “I think it’ll give us a better idea of if we’re gay or not.”
“Buy me fucking dinner first, I’m not that easy.” As if to prove it, Tetsurou lets go of Koutarou’s hair and pushes him away.
“Well, geez, I didn’t realize curiosity was gonna be expensive,” Koutarou stumbles back against the counter, fluffing his hair.
“Nothing in this world is free.”
Koutarou doesn’t answer unless staring at Tetsurou’s lips long enough to make Tetsurou feel awkward and nervous counts.
“Don’t look at me like that, either.”
Koutarou gives a frown, but he pulls Tetsurou away from the island and into a hug. “Why can’t I look at you today?”
Tetsurou accepts this hug. “Because it’s gay today.”
—
A concept: Bokuto Koutarou and Kuroo Tetsurou. It’s sunset, and they’re on the beach. Their feet shuffle in the sand in sync. Koutarou’s hair is down and a bit damp, and he has on that stupid, overpriced shark necklace that the guy at the dock sold him. Koutarou, of course, is shirtless, because Tetsurou thinks that perhaps he looks best that way.
As he squeezes Tetsurou’s hand, Koutarou smiles at Tetsurou, but it’s different from usual. It’s not that “yay, my idiot friend is here with me” smile, it’s that “I think you’re beautiful, and I’d rather look at you than the sunset, and I don’t even care if you’re looking at me back or not because I’m so in love with you that nothing's going to change my mind” smile.
But, of course, this is only a concept.
In truth, Koutarou is fully clothed, sitting on Tetsurou’s living room floor on an early November day, and his hair isn’t spiked up because someone spilled milk on his entire head during lunch earlier, and while Tetsurou thinks it’s beautiful, Koutarou is quite pissed.
“Fuck you, you never listen to me talk,” he pouts.
“Um, yeah, I do,” Tetsurou, sitting on the couch, flicks Koutarou’s head, but he feels bad for it.
“You’ve been spacing out every time we’ve hung out for the past week.”
“Because you kissed me last week, asshole.”
“Yeah, and when I asked you on a date, you totally rejected me.”
“You never asked me on a date.”
“I asked if you wanted to see our god Freddie Mercury in the theater, and you said ‘no.’”
Tetsurou cranes his neck to look at Koutarou. “I thought you were just asking to hang out, and I had a test next day.”
“Ugh,” Koutarou groans and repositions his entire body to face Tetsurou instead of the coffee table. “Kuroo, will you go on a date with me?”
“Um, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“I guess.”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know, what’s you asking me on a date supposed to mean?” Tetsurou involuntarily raises his voice, but Koutarou stays calm.
“That I wanna take you out. On a date.”
“You’re really sassy, you know that?”
“I don’t mean to be.”
“You're spending too much time with Akaashi. You should spend more time with me.”
“I would have if you didn’t reject me on Monday,” Koutarou says matter-of-factly. He places his palms on the carpet and uses them to get up and sit beside Tetsurou on the couch.
“Shut up, and kiss me.”
—
Their first date is… not what Tetsurou expected. Koutarou showed up at Tetsurou’s doorstep at eleven in the morning, kissed him, and asked him if he’s gay yet, which, although very characteristic of Koutarou, is not in the least romantic to Tetsurou.
Now, they sit in a meadow that Tetsurou doesn’t know how Koutarou found, and they’ve already finished the six sandwiches Koutarou brought in his picnic basket. There’s a sort of awkward silence clouding overhead. They haven’t experienced one of those since… never. At least none that Tetsurou is aware of.
“Wanna fuck?” Koutarou asks, sitting across from Tetsurou.
Tetsurou is inclined to say yes, but it’s cold outside, and Tetsurou’s first time is not going to be in Koutarou’s twenty-year-old Volkswagen, so he rolls his eyes and says, “You’re so suave, Bo.”
“We don’t have to, like, fuck for real, but can I, um,” Koutarou stops himself. Instead of speaking, he scoots closer, spreads Tetsurou’s legs to make way for himself, and pulls Tetsurou by his thighs until Tetsurou is in his lap.
“This is fucking gay.”
Koutarou leans his forehead on Tetsurou’s. “I think I’m gay. Or bi. Whatever, it doesn’t matter; I have a thing for you.”
“Good to know.” Tetsurou reaches his fingers in Koutarou’s hair, breaking apart the gel bonds until his hair falls to frame his face.
“You’re messing up my hair,” Koutarou frowns.
“I argue that you mess it up in the mornings with,” Tetsurou breaks apart more gel, feeling it between his fingers, “whatever this is.”
“I think I look amazing.”
“You do… but you look more amazing without all the product in your hair.”
“You’re jealous,” Koutarou declares.
“No, I’m just saying that you look cuter with your hair down.”
Koutarou gives a defiant pout. “I’m wearing it up always then. Even while I sleep.”
Tetsurou can't help his chuckle. “Fine, do as you please.”
“I will.” Koutarou leans backward to get a better view of Tetsurou’s hair and attempts to style it like his own.
“Are we dating now?” Tetsurou asks, resting his hands on Koutarou’s shoulders.
“Duh.”
“One more question.”
Koutarou has now established one of two spikes in Tetsurou’s hair. “Go for it.”
“Do you like me for real?”
Koutarou‘s hands are still in Tetsurou’s hair. Wide golden eyes look pensively into Tetsurou’s. “Yeah. You’re funny, and smart, and cool, and hot, and nice, sometimes.”
To say that it takes everything in Tetsurouto prevent from screaming is a gross understatement.
“Awesome.”
Beginning to form the second spike in Tetsurou’s hair, Koutarou asks, “So,” he makes eye contact, “do you like me back?”
“Are you serious?”
Koutarou nods.
“I thought you picked up on me having a huge ass crush on you and that’s why you were asking if I’m curious about having something in common with Ser Loras Tyrell.”
Koutarou’s eyebrows furrow. He tilts his head and lets his hand fall from Tetsurou’s hair to graze his jaw. “For real?”
“Yes, Bokuto, for real.”
Bokuto Koutarou is decidedly beautiful, Tetsurou knows.
Bokuto Koutarou gets excited from time to time, Tetsurou knows.
Bokuto Koutarou has the Guinness World Record brightest smile in the world, Tetsurou knows.
And yet, every time Koutarou flashes his ridiculously blinding grin, Tetsurou’s heart stops, and his palms sweat, and he forgets to breathe, and he can barely think, and “I’m so in love with you.”
Koutarou laughs his adorable laugh and looks at Tetsurou with his golden eyes. “Yeah, mood.”