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“Nothing?” Kei flinches at the sheer disbelief in Hinata's tone. “You’ve really got nothing planned for White Day?”
Kei glares at him. He plays with the half empty bento on his lap, already feeling full despite how little he actually ate. “It’s an event for omegas, Hinata. I don’t see why I have to make the effort.”
Yamaguchi swipes the bento from him and picks at Kei's leftovers. He lets Yachi take the last tamagoyaki. “You can still do something, Tsukki,” the captain encourages. “I’m sure Kuroo-san will be happy to receive chocolates from you.”
“It doesn’t even have to be chocolates,” Yachi weighs in. “That boy has liked you for years; he’d probably just be happy to see you.”
Kei blushes at the thought. He steals a grape from Yachi’s bento in retaliation. Just ‘cause.
“Still,” he says, “White Day is for omegas, and the truth is I’m not his.”
“What does that matter?” Kageyama cuts in. On the roof, during lunch break, in their last year of highschool, he steals whatever is left of Kei’s lunch before Hinata does. He looks at Kei. “It doesn’t change the fact that you have an alpha, does it?”
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
Kei’s relationship with Kuroo is new.
Not according to Yamaguchi, who insists that they’ve been dancing around each other since they were first years and he refuses to not consider those years of personal torture as part of their relationship. In reality, Kei and Kuroo being officially boyfriends has only been going on for almost three months.
Instigated by a dumb confession clumsily blurted out as snow was falling when Kuroo took him home, followed by a bashful kiss and a delighted hug. All in all, sometimes Kei is hardened to admit that the distance can be quite… advantageous .
There’s no pressure of going on dates or candid conversation. His heart can beat easier knowing that he can message Kuroo cautiously, taking care of this new and fragile thing they finally stumbled onto.
But most times (sometimes), he’s backtracking and wondering if he really made the right choice.
“Go on, Tsukki,” Kuroo encourages through the laptop screen. He’s in a dastardly sleeveless top. It’s one of those that used to be an old, oversized beaten up band shirt but the sleeves have been cut so low, Kei can see the sides of Kuroo’s impressive pecs as he moves. “I’m screen recording. You can open the package now.”
Perhaps it’s the years of knowing Kuroo. Perhaps it’s the years of knowing Kuroo and his friendship with Bokuto. But Kei has been wary of the large red box addressed to him ever since his mother informed him that it came for him in the mail. It didn’t bode well either when Kuroo messaged him, in all caps, not to touch the thing until they were in a video call just so he can see his face.
Kei sighs. He still followed what Kuroo wanted anyway.
When he pulls the lid off, his breath catches. His eyes widen and he freezes. In the background, he can hear Kuroo yelling Tadaaaaa!
Carefully, he scoops the gift out of the box: a green raptor plushie that’s as tall as his torso and as plump as his thickest pillow.
“K-Kuroo-san,” he haltingly calls. He doesn’t know what to say.
Kuroo scratches at his cheek. He’s looking intently at his computer screen, making his gaze a tad off-screen from Kei’s point of view. Not for the first time, Kei gets overwhelmed by how handsome Kuroo is.
Kuroo looks up and their eyes meet. It’s impossible, logically, because his boyfriend is in a dorm three hours away from where he is, even by train. Yet he can still make the heat rise in Kei’s cheeks.
“Happy Valentine’s, Moonshine,” the alpha says with a grin in the middle of March. His hair partially falls into his eyes and his cheeks dip from his smile. Kuroo tongues at his sharp canine, a force of habit, brought about in times of both excitement and nervousness. “It’s kinda sad that it didn’t get there on time, but that’s okay, right? So long as it got to you, I’m happy.”
Kei huffs. He brings the dinosaur a little closer. “You didn’t have to get me anything,” he says, even if he knows that the gift will be the new addition to the pillows that’s overcrowding his bed. “Valentine’s Day is for alphas and omegas, anyway.”
“So?” Kuroo challenges. “I wanted to get you something, is that so wrong?”
It isn’t. Kei knows that. His stomach still makes uncomfortable gurgling noises at its implications.
Their conversation is cut short by a door slamming open on Kuroo’s side of the call. It’s noisy, exactly what he’d expect from a dorm of high-energy, unruly alphas.
“Yo, Kuroo!” Kei hears. His boyfriend turns away. “Let’s go! Party’s been raging for an hour!”
Kuroo screams back, “Yeah, give me a sec!”
“ Hurry up, man! Alpha men like us shouldn’t make omega pussy wait!”
Kuroo curses at him and turns back to Kei. He at least has the audacity to look apologetic for his friend. “That’s my cue,” he says. He scoots away a little from the desk and starts looking for his wallet and phone.
The loose, sleeveless top he’s wearing is tucked into distressed jeans, a thick belt accentuating his trim waist. As he moves, Kei can clearly see how the alpha’s muscles move. They bulge as he unconsciously flexes, reminding Kei of how much Kuroo’s grown in the last years.
“Where are you going?”
“To a party?” Kuroo answers absently. “I told you about it, remember?”
“Wearing that?”
Kuroo looks down on himself. “Yeah. Is there something wrong with it? Should I change?”
Kei thinks about it.
He thinks about the distance from Sendai to Tokyo. He thinks about the distance from Kei’s age to Kuroo.
He thinks about the distance in his being an ordinary beta to Kuroo being a top class alpha.
He thinks about absolutely wanting to say yes.
Kei says, “No.”
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
From: Mini Manager-chan (Wed, 2:48PM)
> Kishimaaaaaaaa (´ ᴗ｀✿)
> Hinata is coming over this Friday after class so we can make chocolates
> You should come too! I’m sure Kuroo-san would love to get some from you (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)
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He supposes,
it all started
with a brave admission of
“I miss you.”
And Akaashi-san! And Bokuto-san!, he’d tried to amend.
Kuroo, on his part, cut through his panic-stricken state with a gentle laugh.
“I miss you too, Kei,” he’d said, too gently over the phone not to make Kei’s pulse thunder. It’s one of the rare times Kuroo has said his name, with each time sounding more and more like his name was meant to be called from those lips.
He told him, “You should visit us here in Tokyo. You’ve got college applications coming soon, right? I’ll show you around.”
If they were together, Kei was sure that he’d smell the warmth of chocolate spiced with the taste of mint, as comforting as an embrace.
And after Kei said yes, after he hopped on a train and went around Tokyo with Kuroo, after lunch with Akaashi and Bokuto, after a the loveliest dinner with just the two of them, the alpha did just that.
He wrapped his arms around Kei as they waited for the last train. Sometimes, much like that one, he wished that he weren’t a beta. He wished that maybe he could be an alpha like Kuroo, or an omega for Kuroo, because betas don’t smell like alphas and omegas do.
They’re neutral; they’re nothing.
He wanted this man to feel comforted by him, just by existing.
But then Kuroo pulled away with the shyest of expressions. He told him how much today felt too much like a dream. He held his hands and drew in near, and said,
“I want to court you, Kei. I know we’d be risking so much but I… I want to risk it all if it’s for you. Please, may I court you?”
Everything else had paled in comparison and all of Kei’s worries receded to the back of his mind.
Kei said, “Yes.”
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
“King, if you get your grubby paws anywhere near my strawberries one more time, you’re gonna have to learn how to set with your wrists.”
Here’s a cute little tidbit about Kei that Kageyama Tobio has learned over years of the friendliest type of animosity: he’s all bark and no bite.
Kei, they’ve all discovered, was softer (kinder) than he seemed.
“We were supposed to make chocolates, Tsukishima,” Kageyama says instead as he fearlessly steals another plump looking fruit from the tiny bowl Kei keeps them in. “Why are you making strawberry shortcake?”
Kei rolls his eyes, snatching the bowl away from undeserving people. “Because I want to? I didn’t know His Highness cared so much about what I did?”
Kageyama turns away from him. He rests a cheek languidly on a palm. “I don’t care what you do,” he sniffs. “I just didn’t know Kuroo-san liked strawberry shortcakes too.”
Kei stops.
They’re in Hitoka’s apartment on a rare Friday night. Classes are over and training has been suspended due the gym undergoing a day of pest control after a very zealous mother mistook the vice principal’s headpiece for a rat.
The five of them are crowded in the kitchen, around the Hitokas’ massive island counter. Hitoka, Yamaguchi, and Hinata were all on one side, huddled over a double boiler filled to the brim with chocolate. Kei and Kageyama were on the other, with the blonde’s ingredients taking up most of the counter space while the setter mostly watched.
“I’m not making this for him,” Kei retorts, as nonchalantly as he can. He can feel all four pairs of eyes subtly turn to him. “Kuroo-san doesn’t like sweets, anyway.”
“If he really likes you,” Hinata butts in insensitively, “then it won’t really matter if he likes sweets or not. As long as you’re the one giving it to him.” He stops stirring the silken chocolate and waves Yamaguchi over with the silicone molds they’ve prepped.
“He won’t care ‘cause it's not like we had anything planned for white day,” Kei says. His alarm goes off, signalling that the cakes were done baking. He takes them out of the oven and sets them on a baking rack to cool. He works on the cream next.
Yamaguchi is much more tactful when he says, “You should surprise him, Tsukki! Hinata-kun is going to do that for Kenma-san, you know? Maybe you can go together.”
“Stop pestering me about it,” Kei suddenly snaps. He had been pulling the foil tab off a carton of milk when he squeezed too tight on his outburst, spilling some of it over the kitchen counter.
“I’m not an omega,” he huffs. “Why would he want to receive chocolates from a non-omega on White Day?”
There is silence after the words leave his mouth. Their gazes drag on his skin like nails on a chalkboard. Kei’s mouth twitches in annoyance.
He doesn’t know what their problem is. White Day is a day for omegas, and Kei has never tried to be Kuroo’s omega.
He’s a beta. Plain and simple.
If Kuroo wanted chocolates on White Day he should have confessed to an omega. They’re better anyway. They’re prettier, cuter, sweeter, and most of them didn’t tower over a lot of alphas and whose heights are perfect for forehead kisses.
Kei bites his lips. He tries to breathe. “I’ll clean this up.”
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From: Kuroo-san (Fri, 9:32PM)
> Moonshine ♡
> We got assigned new lab partners for Bio today
> And this girl reminded me a little bit of you! Like she wears glasses, blonde, smart and she actually knows all the scientific names. WTF???
> It’s really cute
> I really miss you :<
To: Kuroo-san (Fri, 9:58PM)
> That’s nice.
> Is she an omega?
From: Kuroo-san (Fri, 9:59PM)
> Yeah.
> Oh. Are you uncomfortable with that? If you are, I can try and change partners. But I don’t think the prof would allow it.
> Actually, I’ll think of something if you want me to change. Just say so.
> I’ll do anything for you, Tsukkiiiiii (￣ε￣＠)
To: Kuroo-san (Fri, 10:47PM)
> No, it’s fine.
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The walk home is quiet. Kei has a paper bag from Yachi in his hands containing chocolates and a boxed crappy first attempt at a strawberry shortcake.
In the end, he didn’t have the stomach to try it.
Kageyama did, shamelessly picking at the cake scraps and extra cream, and telling him it was fine. But that’s it. It was just fine.
March nights are nicer to Kei. Winter snow has melted and while Spring usually comes with grace, the nights are still cold. In the least, he doesn’t need to put on at least three layers just to function. A plain shirt and a light jacket, that’s enough. It’s what he usually dresses in anyway. Ordinary. Nothing special. Good enough.
Kei sniffs. It’s the only sound made between him and Yamaguchi until Yamaguchi says, right before they reach his house,
“We weren’t pestering you, you know?”
He has this unwavering look about him, the one that says with finality that he’s right and whatever Kei tells him otherwise is wrong. Yamaguchi hasn’t always been like that. He wavered in his opinions or was more likely to just keep his mouth shut. Except, while March was kinder to Kei, the years have been wonderful to Yamaguchi. Blossomed confidence and leadership, time passes by and Yamaguchi continues to be a man who’s always one step ahead of Kei.
Kei’s fingernails dig into his palms as he holds tighter onto the pink and frilly paper bag in his hand. He still tries. “You were.”
“We weren’t. Really,” Yamaguchi lightly laughs. His voice had curved into a teasing melody, “How many times have we actually asked you about it?”
Three. In a span of two weeks.
“Too many to count.”
Yamaguchi scoffs and says nothing more about it. Eventually, they reach his gate.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” his best friend asks. He’s got one hand between the gate and the door jamb.
Kei isn’t looking at him as he says, “I know.” It’s a rhetorical question; there was no need to answer. Sometimes, Kei hates it when Yamaguchi does that. He asks questions he already knows the answer to, just to prove a point. Kei sometimes hates it when Yamaguchi tries to prove a point. Because most of the time, the bastard is right.
“But there are things,” Yamaguchi continues on, “that’s better to talk about with some more than others. Like when you asked Coach how to block better, or when you asked Takeda-sensei if it was alright to want to kiss boys even when you’re a boy.”
Yamaguchi smiles. He lets go of the gate, and the door slams closed, clicking into place the way Kei’s heart and mind just wouldn’t.
“I think this is something you need to talk about with Kuroo-san, Tsukki.” There’s kindness in his eyes. “Make sure to, okay? Talk to him.”
Kei tsks. Yamaguchi thinks everything will be alright. The blonde has always been slow to act, but he’s… reliable.
Kei, they’ve all discovered, was softer (sweeter) than he seemed.
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March 14th falls on a Monday.
Kei opens his eyes feeling like everything would be fine. The last thing he saw before going to sleep was a message from Kuroo to sleep well, and the first words Kei comes to are “good morning.” Fate had gently smiled upon them and made the fake rat from the gym become real and multiply enough to roam the halls of Karasuno. What was supposed to be a one-day fumigation turned into four and so all students were free until Tuesday.
It’s like everything in the universe conspired if only to make sure that Kei would run out of excuses not to go.
He spends the early morning trying to redo the strawberry shortcake. He doesn’t eat breakfast because his stomach is all in knots. He doesn’t eat lunch because he forgets. He almost slips and dies in the shower when he takes it. Then, when he hops on the train, he’s filled with positivity.
He feels good. He feels happy. He wants to see Kuroo.
So now, he’s in Tokyo, after making an effort, feeling rather proud of the cake he made in his hands.
The campus is as Kei expected it to be on White Day. Couples roam the grounds hand-in-hand, omegas carrying tiny paper bags of chocolate, handing them out to the people they care about. It’s easy to navigate the campus because he’s been here before. He knows Kuroo’s building; he knows Kuroo’s schedule. Right about now, his classes are let off.
Kei’s heart beats with anticipation as he nears the grounds near his boyfriend’s building, belatedly noticing the crowd of people crowding the middle.
White Day is a magical affair. It’s a season of hope, a season of love. It’s a time when people find the courage to confess, to tell someone they care with a gift so simple as candy.
Kei wants to do that too. For all his cynicism and insecurities, Kei wants to at least be true to the person he’s in a relationship with, to tell him that what he holds for him isn’t something as flimsy as a crush. Really, Kuroo-san, it’s lov—
The collective coo gets his attention.
There’s a small sea of students surrounding a small area near Kuroo’s building. Kei nears the crowd to see what all the fuss is about. With his height, he only has to tiptoe a little to see.
He finds the person he’s looking for, standing in the middle, hands in his pockets and a smile on his face. In front of him is a girl: small, glasses, blonde, hot. She’s got a heart-shaped chocolate cake in her hands, clearly an offer of confession on white day.
His boyfriend’s eyes never leave the girl’s. His boyfriend’s eyes never leave her face.
The excitement Kei has instantly becomes corrupted. There has always been a fine line between it and nervousness, but Kei’s heart tipped over and fell to the other side. He can hear himself breathe as he watches Kuroo move.
The alpha’s hands reach for the cake to take it, muttering words Kei is too far to hear. Kei waits for the rejection that never comes.
The crowd cheers. The girl just in front of Kei jumps into his space, making him lose his balance and fall to the floor. He feels it before he sees it: the courage and the gift he tried so hard to make, ruined in an instant. The girl is frantically apologizing, but Kei can’t hear anything.
Something clicks. Something breaks and something else falls perfectly into place.
He turns away without hesitation, numb fingers still clutching a box that is practically good as trash.
In his periphery, he thinks that Kuroo may have looked his way.
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
Two nights ago, Kei made the mistake of scrawling through Kuroo’s profile at 3:42AM.
There’s a tagged picture of his boyfriend from the party he went to a week before.
Kei’s heart thundered. The first thing he reads are the words Wet T-Shirt Party .
In the picture, Kuroo’s entire body was drenched. He had one hand in his slicked hair, matted down but still disheveled. His clothes stuck on him like glue. The lines of his torso were visible on the side, outlined faithfully by the flimsy material of his shirt. He was smirking, eyes bright and taunting, in the way only Kuroo does when he’s intimidating, when he knows he’s tantalizing, when he’s provocation and sex incarnate.
On his arm was a girl: small, glasses, blonde, hot. Her hair was tied in pigtails, eyes still smoky and lips still red despite being so… wet. She was wearing a white t-shirt and the shortest jean shorts, not caring at all that the suds and water can make anyone see through her shirt, to her skin and form and almost too tight lace.
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The Tokyo rush hour had filled the trains heading back to Sendai. This is one of the things that Kei hates about the idea of moving to Tokyo for university. Tohoku University and Sendai University are both easy commutes from his home, and the former is known for its research program. There’s really no reason for him to move to Tokyo.
Tsukishima!
He has one less reason to stay.
Hey, Tsukishima!
He pushes himself into the train, weaving through the sea of bodies and burying himself deep into the crowd, ready to disappear. There’s little space but there’s room to move, and Kei goes as far as he can; he goes to where he can rest his forehead on the cool glass of the door on the other side.
Kei!
Easy breaths. One. Two. Deep and slow, repeat until he can flush Kuroo’s voice out of his head.
“ Kei .”
It sounds too real and if only he’d turned around, he would have seen a dominant alpha forcing his way as if he were running to his mate.
The hand that slaps on the glass beside his head is so loud that Kei thought it might shatter.
Kei’s knees buckle. Kuroo’s scent descends upon him like a lead weight. The train jolts to move exactly at that moment and he loses his sense of gravity again for the third time that day. The alpha wraps an arm around his waist, catching him, and presses him against the double doors.
The people near them take a step away, Kuroo’s pheromones are too vivid and laden with ferocity. He can feel Kuroo’s harsh breaths on his neck, can feel his fingers digging painfully in his waist, can hear the slight growl in his voice when he pants,
“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to see me?”
Kei hates his voice. He scrunches his eyes tight and hates that Kuroo seems so much bigger than him. The alpha is everywhere around him, filling his every sense so easily and invasively. He wants to breathe without inhaling chocolate and mint. He wants to fill his lungs with something that doesn’t make him want to submit. He wants not to break down in these arms that always hold him so well.
It’s crazy. He’s a beta. Kuroo shouldn’t have this effect on him.
“Why did you run away, Moonshine?”
Kei breaks. In the midst of a crowded train on the way back home, he takes one shuddering intake of air and his tears begin to flow. His hand clamps around his mouth as he wills himself to stop. He can’t; his chest is too heavy with emotions he’s kept for so long. He doesn’t register that he’s trembling, or that Kuroo has turned him around and tucked him in under his chin, shielding him from the rest of the world and eyes too curious for their own good.
“Moonshine?”
Kei hates his voice. He hates his scent. He hates it all. He hates it. He hates it.
He hates him.
“I know,” Kuroo sighs. “I’m sorry, Moonshine. It’s all my fault.”
Kei cries through it all.
“I should have rejected her immediately, shouldn’t I? Sorry I was a bit slow.”
Kei can’t stop.
“I’m sorry I made you feel bad, but you know I love you, right?”
Kei hides his face in both his palms.
“You’re absolutely the only one I want to be with, okay?”
Between hiccups and sobs, Kei finds his voice. “Sh-shut up,” he struggles, pushing at Kuroo with his barely existent strength. “You don’t eve— You don’t even know why I’m—”
“You got jealous, right?” Kuroo brushes the beta’s hair back, wipes under his eyes with his thumbs gently. “You saw her confessing and thought I accepted her?”
Kei flinches away from the alpha’s touch. But he’s caged in by Kuroo’s steady form, unmoving despite the constant jostling of the train.
Kuroo sighs, dropping his forehead onto Kei’s gently, looking his lover in the eyes. “I’m sorry. Please. I never want for you to doubt me. I just didn’t have the guts to reject her in front of all those people.”
Kei can’t fault him for that. Kuroo is kind, immensely thoughtful: A perfect alpha to a supposed to be perfect omega that Kei will never be .
Kuroo hooks his fingers underneath Kei’s chin, urging him to look him in the eyes. “That never mattered to me,” Kuroo says. In his mindless state, Kei has said the words he thought he didn’t say. “I never cared that you were a beta, Kei.”
It's hard for the blonde to believe him. Logically, of course, as he’d always known, that his second gender never mattered, shouldn’t matter to something so encompassing as love. Still, he’s convinced himself that he wasn’t enough that it’s festered into the deepest recesses of his mind, contaminating every waking thought and immediate reaction.
It sparks unwanted emotions, trips multiple triggers Kei isn’t even aware about.
The air that floods his lungs is painful when he breathes. “But you said you liked her. Your blonde lab partner with the glasses and— then the picture from the party and you were too close and then she confessed to you and you must be so perfect cause everybody cheered cause you said she’s smart and she’s really pretty and she’s the perfect height for you to kiss I—”
Kuroo shuts him up with a kiss. He holds Kei’s cheeks in both his hands and lines their bodies up to the door perfectly. Kei can’t move, caught in between the alpha’s strength and the alpha’s pheromones, and his own need of having him close.
The kiss is deep. Kuroo doesn’t lead with innocence. He catches Kei mid-sentence and plunges his tongue in, licking into Kei’s mouth, starved for affection. The beta’s body acts on automatic, responding to the kiss without thinking. The alpha doesn’t give him time to think. The alpha doesn’t give him time to catch his breath.
Kuroo kisses him without remorse, without shame. Kei drowns and struggles to keep up, and when he can’t do it anymore, he gasps for air. Kuroo doesn’t stop. The alpha simply latches his lips under Kei’s jaw, maneuvering the beta so easily with experienced hands. Kuroo sucks into his skin, making Kei moan loudly.
Kei startles at his own reaction. His eyes open wide and see the people behind them watching, hands over their mouths at how strong Kuroo’s scent must be. He hasn’t noticed it, Kei was never really good at scents, but it’s obvious now.
Despite his words and his tone of voice, the alpha is far from calm.
“Kuroo-san,” Kei tries to say, but his lover only kisses him more. Kuroo goes back to sucking his lips and Kei has to use all of his strength just to push him an inch away.
“No,” Kuroo growls.
Kei crosses his arms in front of him. He places a gentle hand over Kuroo’s mouth, but it only urges the alpha to kiss up his arm.
“Kuroo-san, stop,” Kei pleads as he pries his arms away from Kuroo. He tries to push him away again, to no avail.
“No.”
“Kuroo-san, people are watching.”
“ No. ”
Kei writhes to set himself free. “Kuroo-san!”
Kuroo only grasps his wrists above his head, keeping him in place.
“Stop rejecting me!” the alpha snarls, too low and menacing to ignore.
Kuroo’s eyes are sharp. His fangs are bared and his pheromones are beginning to become too much to handle, even for a beta. He can see the omegas and the betas whimpering. The lesser alphas stand down. Some grow concerned and look to approach, but Kei knows it can’t come to that.
He can’t pick it up in Kuroo’s scent, but he doesn’t need to be an alpha or an omega to know. It’s the way Kuroo’s eyes are filled with both regret and desperation, in the way his nails claw at Kei’s skin. It’s in the way Kuroo chased him down and held him close — the way he kissed him that told Kei that they must have been feeling the same way.
“You think I didn’t notice you were pulling away?” Kuroo accuses. “You think I’m okay with you barely responding to my messages or my calls?”
Kei sniffs and closes his eyes.
“Stop crying, please,” Kuroo begs, snaking his way into Kei’s space one more time. “The more you cry, the more I feel like you’re breaking up with me and— I can’t, Moonshine.”
The sharpness is gone in his eyes when he looks up. They’re bright and watery, a mirror to Kei’s own. “I just got you. I’m not gonna lose you so soon.”
Kei huffs. He feels stupid. He’s so stupid and he’s a fool.
He wraps his arms around the alpha’s neck, holds them in place, and says nothing else. The tension they’ve created gradually recedes.
He doesn’t know how he doesn’t drop the paper bag of ruined strawberry shortcake, but it hangs on his arm for the rest of their ride home.
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀
In the morning, after a cold night under the stars and the most beautiful warmth under his sheets, Kei finds Kuroo helping his mom make breakfast in the kitchen. He walks in rubbing his eyes, still rather sore from last night.
“Kuroo-san?” he calls.
Kuroo saunters over with an apron tied around his waist and a handsome grin on his face. “Good morning, Moonshine,” he greets, blessing Kei with a quick morning kiss. Kei blushes. He’ll never get over how shameless Kuroo is in front of his mother. “You’re just in time! I made fried rice for everyone.”
“Thank you.” Kei smiles, shyly playing with the collar of Kuroo’s borrowed shirt.
“You should thank him for more than that!” Kei’s mother scolds. She has plates in her hands when she bumps her child’s hips with hers, making Kei fall into his alpha’s arms. “I found him eating cake for breakfast, Kei! What kind of host are you?”
Kuroo only shrugs. “It’s fine, Okaa-chan. Just needed a little sugar boost for the day!”
“Cake?” Kei startles. As far as he can remember, there was no extra cake from the one he made yesterday. Meaning, what Kuroo must have eaten was the one he took all the way to Tokyo. “But that’s ruined! Why would you eat that?”
“It wasn’t ruined,” Kuroo rolled his eyes. “Just a little smushed. Besides, my Moonshine made it for me so why wouldn’t I eat it?”
“See?” Kei’s mother grumbles, about to walk up the stairs to wake Akiteru up. “Tetsurou’s too good for you!”
Kei sputters. He deliberately ignores his mother’s words. “Why wouldn’t you— Tetsu, I fell on that cake! That cake fell on the floor! It’s probably dirty and ugly and it might already have gone bad from all the travelling. You shouldn’t have—”
Kuroo pulls in him for another kiss. Truly a new found way to shut his lover up.
Kei, he’s discovered, is softer (more fragile) than he seems.
But Kuroo loves him all the same.
“Kei, it’s perfect,” Kuroo says, feeling as bright and happy as he looks that morning. “Much like you.”
❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀