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Kuroo has a hopeless permanent bedhead. Lev sometimes laughs about it; while standing before a mirror in the morning, he combs his soft fair hair, so unlike the mane of his namesake, and snickers, remembering the I’ve-fallen-head-down-into-a-stack-of-hay black spikes. They must be thick and unruly too, Lev thinks. He sometimes wants to give Kuroo his own shampoo and explain that he should only wash his head in the mornings and never before going to bed. Not that his hair frustrates him that much, he just… it’s just a little embarrassing for a captain to look like he’s just woke up after 16 hours of sleep, right?
Kuroo has a lazy, predatory smile. It sends shivers down their opponents’ spines, Lev is sure of it; even he sometimes feels something like this when looking at it – goosebumps running all over his back like a swarm of ants, leaving a strange feeling in their wake, a feeling that settles beneath his skin rather than on it. Lev isn’t sure if he dislikes it, but it’s very unusual. Sometimes he feels like he wants to run to Kuroo and grab his shirt and ask, as politely as possible with that feeling mixed with outrage boiling under the skin of his back, to stop smiling like that. At least at him. He could deal with that smile directed at Kenma or someone else, really… But it’s just a little undignified for a captain to make his opponents – and even fellow teammates! – endure that cat-like all-teeth lazy grin. Isn’t it?
Kuroo has a really strong thighs, and legs, and arms. Long thick neck too. Lev thinks that he must weight a little more than him, despite his height – Lev is all limbs, really, and Kuroo… is much better built, if he’s honest with himself. Not that it bothers him, he’s not envious by his nature, it’s something completely different – he admires his captain, really, and he feels oddly proud of being on the same team with him. And it shouldn’t even be odd at all! Kuroo is the team’s foundation, its protection, and Lev sometimes can’t help looking at them and thinking that Kuroo is also everyone’s big brother, reliable and strong and as capable of helping his teammates improve as that scary guy from Aoba Johsai. It’s just a little… it’s just… Something that starts making Lev lay awake when he should be asleep, how strong Kuroo is. He vows to himself to become stronger than their captain in a record time. He sometimes (really often) want to shout that right into his face. “I’ll become stronger than you! We’ll be standing together on the court, even before you graduate, and I’ll already be stronger, as stronger as I’m taller, and I’ll be just like you”. Why Lev wants to be like him so much isn’t even a question; Kuroo is strong; Kuroo is amazing; Kuroo is... Kuroo…
Lev looks at him sometimes during practices, or after, or before, and observes, and admires, and says everything that he thinks, except one thing – that sometimes, he wants to walk right up to him, and say – and shout – something… He wants to just explain that the way Kuroo is is too perfect sometimes, and it’s unfair because Lev’s going to beat him and… He wants to stand really-really close to him and… He wants. He wants. He wants too much. He wants to fix that awful hair with his fingers and he wants to see that smile much closer than he’s able to now and he wants that strength, that feeling of predatory power surrounding him and he wants. He just really wants. He just really wants Kuroo.