Chapter Text
You and Kuroo have been friends since the first year of college. You met him through Akaashi, who you sat next to in English first semester. And at some point, you got comfortable enough to complain to him about how chemistry was totally kicking your ass and he mentioned that his friend who lived down the hall was pretty good at it. Akaashi offered to ask him if he’d help you out.
And that’s how you found yourself one afternoon waiting for a complete stranger in the library. You weren’t expecting the 6’2” middle blocker of the university’s volleyball team to slide into the seat next to you and introduce himself as Akaashi’s friend.
That was almost 3 years ago now, and it turns out the towering middle blocker you could barely speak a word to the first week of him tutoring you is a total dork that loves volleyball and science just a tad too much.
You plop down on the worn-out couch of your shared apartment with Kuroo, Akaashi, and Bokuto; who you met not long after meeting Kuroo, you shove Kuroo to the end to give yourself some space.
“There’s a perfectly good chair you know!” He complains, squished up against the arm of the couch.
“Huh.” You make a show of squinting at the empty chair. “I think that chair says ‘Kuroo’ on it though.”
He groans. “This couch isn’t made for four people!”
“It most definitely is, I just unfortunately happen to live with two freakishly tall volleyball players and one beefy one.” You jab a finger to the other side of you at Bokuto sandwiched between you and Akaashi on the couch.
Kuroo gives you a look, then turns his attention to the chair in question. “It says Kuroo on it, does it?”
You grin devilishly at him. “Sure does. Gotta squint to see it though.”
He sighs, but picks up his bowl from the table and moves over to the chair grumbling, “The things I let you do…” But you can see he’s trying to hide his smile. This time you smile innocently at him before taking a bite of your food and scooting over to his newly vacated spot. “Who’s turn is it tonight?”
“Mine—mine!” Bokuto shouts, nearly tipping his bowl over in his attempt to snatch the remote. He turns the channel to the college sports network, and you pull out your phone to scroll mindlessly through your feed. You’ve watched volleyball every night for the past week, giving up your nights in control of the remote because they all get unbearably antsy in the days leading up to a game.
So, to make up for it, you either get the remote for however many days you gave it up for or they do the dishes or something. You don’t mind too much, not when you’ve grown accustomed to it since all moving in together for second year. And besides, sometimes it’s just as entertaining watching them watch as it is watching the game itself. You like volleyball enough, having been to many of their games to support them, but watching it every night does get a little old for you.
Though, recently, you’ve found yourself watching Kuroo more often than not. The way his golden eyes intently watch the screen, his food forgotten halfway to his mouth—how his lips move almost imperceptibly as he counts to himself when he’d block. He’s so distracted that when his food slips off his utensil, he doesn’t notice, making a face when he bites at nothing. You don’t bother suppressing your giggles about it. To which he just slides a threatening look over at you before returning his attention to the TV.
“So,” you say loudly to get their attention, notorious for not hearing you when a game is on. “Which team are you playing?”
“The yellow one.” Akaashi points to the left side of the screen.
“Are they good?”
All three of them respond in unison, “Yes.”
You take that as a sign this isn’t a game you’re allowed to chat through. Kuroo surprises you by keeping the conversation going. “Are you going to come?”
Finishing your food, you shrug. “Sure, sounds like it’ll be a good game. Thursday, right?”
You stand, gathering the empty bowls to take to the kitchen. Again, Kuroo surprises you by pulling his attention from the match to hand you his bowl, muttering a quiet, “Thanks.”
Once you’re gone, he sighs internally, unsure why he wishes you’d come to every game. For a reason he can’t explain, during a game when he thinks his thighs will split the next time he jumps, or his fingers are finally going to break off, being able to glance up at you in the stands cheering them on gives him a burst of energy. And for months now, he’s been glancing at you a lot more frequently off the court.
He finds Bokuto and Akaashi staring at him, and all he can say is, “Shut up.”
You have to beg a couple of your girl friends to come to the game with you, enticing them with the idea of tall, attractive volleyball players. You would have gone alone of you had to but being with others is usually a lot more fun. Especially when your closest friends are in the game, it’s hard for you to find people to join you.
Volleyball is a pretty popular sport at your University for students to attend, so you annoy your friends to get their early, so you get decent seats. You arrive early enough to catch the tail end of both teams’ warm up, and you usually search for Bokuto’s unique black and white hair finding it easy to spot the familiar black mop of bedhead hair standing nearby.
Beside you, your friend asks, “Which ones are your roommates?”
You quickly point out Bokuto. “He’s the ace, and Akaashi is the one standing to the left of him—he’s the setter. And to the other side of him is Kuroo, a middle blocker, and the captain!”
“Middle blocker?”
You blink, realizing they don’t know much about volleyball in comparison to your strange knowledge of the sport you don’t even play. “Uh, yeah! So, most commonly tall players are in the position of middle blocker so that when the other team tries to spike, they can block it. You’ll see, it’s pretty crazy. I always think they’re going to get their arms ripped off, I don’t know how they do it.”
When the teams finish their warm-ups, they both line up on their respective sides to extend their thanks to the crowd for coming to the game. You beam and wave to your friends, doing your best to make the most noise out of everybody—probably looking ridiculous in the process.
Kuroo chuckles at your enthusiasm, Bokuto’s face splits into a smile and returns the gesture, making an effort to wave at the friends you’ve brought with you.
Once they head back to the coach, you friend leans over to whisper, “I know you live with them but…ever thought about dating one of them? ‘Cause—damn.”
“What? No!” You splutter. “I couldn’t! I know them a little too well.”
She raises an eyebrow suspiciously. Luckily, you’re saved by the referee blowing the whistle. “Oh, look! The game’s about to start.”
The boys were right, it does turn out to be an exciting game. A nail-biter, sit at the edge of your seat kind of game—your favorite kind. To your relief, your friends get really into the game, and don’t think about asking you more questions about your roommates. Though you can’t stop thinking about it. Not as you watch Kuroo’s jump serve, your eyes drifting to his shorts revealing his muscular thighs or the peek of skin you catch as his shirt rides up.
Have you thought about it in passing once or twice? Sure. Particularly when you’ve caught him just after a shower and he has the audacity to walk around the apartment with just a towel slung around his waist. The first time you saw him, your face set on fire and of course he caught it and chased you around the apartment yelling all sorts of playful jabs at you before you could sprint to the safety of your bedroom and slam the door in his face.
He never once has forgotten that instance, and even now you swear he walks around the apartment like that for longer than necessary on purpose just to fluster you. And sure, when you first met him a few years ago, you developed a crush on him, but it went away quickly after your friendship blossomed.
Didn’t it?
Your eyes widen ever so slightly, feeling like you’ve just had all the air knocked out of you.
Have you…liked…Kuroo all this time?
All those late nights studying, being with him nearly every weekend, enjoying almost every moment with him? The person you’d be so confident to say is your best friend and you’re just figuring this out now?
Holy shit—you think you’re going to pass out from the realization.
You watch Kuroo in a strange stupor, reeling from the emotions flooding you at the moment. But you come to a second realization shortly after the first.
That you’ve been friends all this time, and if he had ever felt that way about you…you assume it’s passed. And you can’t help but fixate on the fear that you’re too late in discovering the way you feel about him.
This isn’t going to be fun.
After the game, which his team fought tooth and nail to win, he notices you’re strangely distant. On the drive home while Bokuto is babbling about the game, you sit quietly in your seat, staring out the window, placating Bokuto with slight nods and occasional responses. It’s very unlike you and worries him.
What happened in the time span between the start and end of the game? Did one of your friends say something that put you off?
He shakes it off, as your spirits brighten slightly when Akaashi suggests you all pick up some takeout on the way home as he’s certain none of you want to put any effort into cooking. Kuroo suggests your favorite place to get food, but if you notice his attempt to bring you out of this weird silent slump, you make no indication of it.
That’s where you all end up getting food, but when you all return home and Akaashi says to you, “Well, what are we watching for the next couple days?”
You dig into the meal, shrugging. “You guys can watch whatever you want tonight, I have a quiz I need to study for.”
Kuroo nearly drops his container. Normally, you take the opportunity to watch whatever you want, no matter the complaints it might raise from any of them. He clamps his mouth shut around his chopsticks and catches the similarly surprised glances of Akaashi and Bokuto from across the table. They’ve caught on as well.
When you finish, you get up, throw your container away, and head up the stairs without another word. The moment you’re out of earshot, Akaashi notes, “Something’s up.”
“Yeah, you know she’s usually pretty amped after a game like that one…” Bokuto mutters, his mouth still half full.
“You should check on her.”
Gazing up the stairs, Kuroo gets the feeling you won’t be receptive to talking. Most of the time, you just need time to sort yourself out. You’re acting weird, but not enough to cause him real alarm yet. “I think she just needs some time,” he says, heart heavy that while he wants to go upstairs to help, he knows you well enough that he probably shouldn’t. He learned that the hard way.
Akaashi just shrugs. “Alright. You’d know best.”
“What does that mean?”
He’s unfazed. “I just mean that while we’re all friends, I think you know her better than us.” His eyes meet Kuroo’s, and just like Kenma could always see straight through him, Akaashi can too. “Just an observation.”
Leave it to Bokuto to say bluntly, “Yeah, we all know you’re in love with her.”
“Bokuto!” Kuroo hisses, glaring at him. She is right upstairs! “I am not—”
“You are,” Akaashi says. “And we all know it except for you and the only person denser than you who is currently directly above us.”
Kuroo slumps in his chair defeated. He does know it; he just doesn’t want to admit it. “Well, let’s all just keep that information to ourselves, shall we?” He groans, leaning his head back onto his chair. He can’t imagine what would happen if you accidentally overheard the fact that Kuroo thinks about you on a near daily basis and hasn’t been able to stop since he met you years ago.
Living together has only made it worse and with Akaashi and Bokuto on his ass about it now, he can’t imagine he’s going to be able to keep it a secret for much longer.
The next morning, you seem fine. Kuroo can’t detect any of the strange quiet that overcame you last night and things seem…normal. He couldn’t fall asleep though, too worried that you overheard the conversation after you left. But his worries are assuaged this morning when you saunter into the kitchen, unfazed by him, and even asking how he slept.
He swallows with difficulty. “Uh, not great if I’m honest.”
Without even sparing him a glance you say, “I know. I heard you tossing and turning all night.”
He smiles sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Growing pains.”
Now you turn to stare at him, giving him a complete once over head to toe. “Growing pains?! You’re joking—you already barely miss the tops of the doorframes!”
God, he really should have picked a more believable excuse. “Guess we’re gunna have to move,” he offers playfully.
“No—you’re gunna have to move. Or get used to ducking.” You stick your tongue out at him before taking a seat at the counter, sipping from your mug while scrolling mindlessly through your phone.
“Good game last night, huh?” He blurts trying to fill the silence, so he doesn’t start drowning in thoughts about how cute you look in your shorts or how he’s hyper-fixated on the cup you keep bringing up to your mouth.
You shrug. “My friends seemed to enjoy themselves, so that was fun. I got to show off my endless amounts of volleyball knowledge thanks to you guys.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“Positions and plays and stuff. But I think they were much more interested in um—,” you cough, then glance at him from beneath your lashes. “The uh…players.”
He blinks. “What do you mean?” He knows exactly what you mean but he wants to hear you say it.
“I am not saying it.”
“But I really don’t know,” he muses.
A groan emits from you. “Yes, you do—I know you do.”
He smirks, making heat crawl up your neck. “What about the players?”
Burying your face in your hands, you shout defeated, “Ugh—they think all of you are hot okay?”
The mischievous grin that rises to his lips nearly sends you into overdrive. “Oh, we do get pretty warm,” he agrees, pouring his hot water into a travel mug and snagging a tea bag.
Your eyes narrow dangerously at him. “I hate you.” He just gives you a wink before slipping out the door. Wanting to scold yourself, you tangle your fingers in your hair, trying to convince yourself that was a perfectly normal interaction with him and there isn’t anything to read into. Not that insufferable smirk, or the way his golden eyes pin you in your seat.
You are royally fucked until you get over this.
Snapping you into reality, Akaashi clears his throat from the hallway behind you. “I swear if you say one goddamn word,” you threaten, shoving your mug into the sink and storming past a rather smug looking Akaashi.
On campus later that afternoon, Kuroo is on his way towards the station on the other side of campus to go home when ahead of him he spots one of the students he tutors coming the opposite direction. After tutoring you so successfully in chemistry, you had encouraged him to get a job at the tutoring center and he’s been working there since his second year. And this particular student, although he knows she means well, is by no means shy about her infatuation with him.
Just earlier today he tutored here and part of him thinks she actually does understand chemistry, but just makes appointments at the center solely to spend time with him. And today she asked him about the party being thrown by several sports clubs tonight, wondering if the volleyball club is a part of it.
He knows about the party, but the volleyball club had opted to not help host it and he had yet to ask the others if they wanted to attend. So, he’d given her a non-committal response.
When the session ended, she’d left with a suggestive, “Well, I hope to see you there Kuroo-kun!”
He can’t help that seeing her coming at him from the other direction, he instinctively panics and scans his surroundings for somewhere to hide until she passes. It’s then that he hears your familiar laughter fill the air and he immediately locates you sitting on the lawn with Akaashi. Relief fills him and without even thinking, he strides off the pavement into the grass and abruptly plops down beside you.
“Kuroo? What the—”
“Hi, sorry, please help me out.” He motions with his head in the direction of his tutee.
You tilt your head to glance behind his shoulder, catching sight of the girl whose been pursuing Kuroo since he started tutoring him at the beginning of the semester. “This is ridiculous.” You giggle quietly at the 6’2” volleyball player trying to hide behind your frame.
“You can’t just stop to chat for a few minutes?” Akaashi asks in a hushed tone.
“She’s going to ask me to go to a party with her tonight.”
“Ah,” you say in understanding. Kuroo is far too nice to tell her no flat out.
And despite his attempts to avoid her, she spots him anyways and makes a detour out onto the lawn to talk to him. “Hi Kuroo-kun! Done with classes for the day?”
“Hey Suzuki.” He admirably gives her a warm smile. “Yeah, just enjoying the rest of the afternoon.” He feels awful. She’s a nice girl, but unfortunately, he’s pathetically in love with the one sitting next to him.
“Have you decided about the party yet?”
Unsurprisingly, Kuroo turns to the two of you for the answer. You shrug, looking at Akaashi. “Sounds fun, we haven’t been to a party in a while. Think Bo will be up for it?”
“Bokuto? Up for a party? Never.”
You chuckle at that and try not to laugh at the glare Kuroo points in your direction. He was hoping you’d say no, so he doesn’t have to endure advances from Suzuki all night.
Suzuki grins and tells him she’ll see him tonight before bounding off, and once she’s out of earshot he grips your arm hissing, “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Don’t worry.” You nudge him. “We’ll protect you all night. C’mon, lets have fun tonight!”
He’s in no position to deny you.
The party is already in full swing by the time you all get there, and Bokuto is none too shy to immediately drag Akaashi out onto the thumping dancefloor. You can’t help smiling softly at them, knowing that only Bokuto can get Akaashi to loosen up like that. Meanwhile, you and Kuroo hang back near the bar, sipping idly from your cups, laughing at Bokuto’s dance moves.
Though the unease rolling off Kuroo is palpable. Despite making humorous comments about how Bokuto is bound to take out someone’s eye with his limbs flailing around like that, he can’t hide his nervous glances as he scans the crowd for Suzuki.
Eventually he spots her, and he’s not sure how she hasn’t spotted him yet. He thought she’d be actively on the lookout for him, but instead she’s chatting with some other people, and unaware of his presence yet. He’s unsure if he can handle a night of being pursued by her but god—he also can’t stomach breaking her heart either. Not when he has to tutor her for the rest of the semester.
Glancing down at you next to him, he follows your gaze fixed on the dancefloor, smiling softly at your two friends enjoying themselves. “You want to dance?” He shoves off the wall to stand in front of you.
“What?”
“Didn’t you say let’s have some fun tonight?” He jabs a thumb behind him. “Looks like fun to me.”
A grin spreads across your lips that makes his heart stutter in his chest.
Following him down to the floor, you both shove your way through the crowd to reach Akaashi and Bokuto near the middle of the mass of people. When you arrive, Bokuto shouts a happy greeting and takes your hands into his to help you start dancing before returning his attention to Akaashi. There’s not much room down here, pressing you close against Kuroo, but you don’t think much of at as you’re pressed close to everyone around you too.
But Kuroo can’t think of anything but how close you are. Your laughter filling his ears as you lift your hands and start moving your hips to the beat—he realizes what a terrible idea this was. He wants to set his hands on those hips so bad and pull you even closer against him, close enough that he can feel your heartbeat against his chest and—fuck, he’s going to lose it tonight.
Before he can spiral into his fantasies about you, he instinctively looks for Suzuki again to see if she’s noticed him yet. He hopes he’s obscured enough on the dancefloor that it gives him a bit longer before the onslaught of suggestive words and here she won’t be pressured to keep it in check like she is on campus.
But just as he’s about to overthink that situation, a warm hand reaches up to grasp his face pulling his attention back to you. Any thoughts he had are tossed out the window as you stare at him openly and seriously.
“That doesn’t look like fun.” You point out.
“She’s here.”
You do a quick survey of the room and locate her; blissfully unaware the object of her infatuation is right under her nose. “Why don’t you just reject her?” You say out of the blue, startling him. He opens his mouth to object, but you just continue, “I get that you think you’re too nice and all, but wouldn’t it be nicer than leading her on like this?”
He has no argument against that.
“In my experience, most girls would much prefer you be honest with them. Just tell her you’re not interested. Simple.”
He stares at you. Mulling over the words you just said.
Be honest with them.
“You’re right,” he says, no longer thinking about Suzuki. “I’m not interested in her.”
“See? I told you, easy—”
“I’m interested in you.”
You make a small choking noise and blink dumbfounded at him. “That’s not funny.”
His expression doesn’t change, and your knees almost buckle under the weight of his stare. “It’s not a joke.”
“You…you—what? That’s…what?” He tries not to chuckle that he’s broken you into being unable to put together a sentence. “For how long?”
He shrugs, a little embarrassed to admit it. “A while.”
“I—ugh. You’re damn lucky I realized it recently too.” His eyes widen, lips curving into a smile as you throw your arms around his neck and press your lips to his.
He’s perfect and warm and solid against you, kissing you like he’s thought about this moment a million times. And by god is he fucking good at it. In the back of your mind, you swear you hear Bokuto’s whoop of excitement breaking through the music shouting, “Finally!!”