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The first time had been an accident. Daichi had grabbed the wrong jacket on his way out of Kuroo's room, pulling it on and not realising that it was Nekoma red instead of his Karasuno black until he reached the train station. By then it had been too late to run back to Kuroo's house and risk missing his train so that meant Daichi was stuck with Kuroo's Nekoma jacket and Kuroo with his Karasuno jacket for a week. It had not been fun trying to explain to his team why he wasn't wearing their team colours and Suga had this knowing look in his eyes like he was going to remember this forever.
The next time had been when they finally moved in with each other after years of dancing around the question and Daichi had pulled on the wrong shirt after getting up, yawning through his morning routines until Kuroo stumbled into the kitchen. The look in Kuroo's eyes then, when he finally realised that the shirt Daichi had on was hanging the wrong way on him, collar too wide and too long at the ends, had been searing. Daichi still hasn't managed to forget how Kuroo had looked as he surged forward, his lips forming the word "want" over his.
This time it's deliberate. When Daichi wakes up, it's to an empty bed and a pocket of residue heat to his left, vaguely Kuroo-shaped against the sheets. He lifts his head clear of his pillow, blinking sleep away, his movements languid as he stretches his arms out high above his head. It takes a while longer for his legs to remember coordination and even longer for him to pull them out from under the blankets, still warm and heavy with sleep.
Daichi sets his feet on the floor, startling when he comes in contact not with something smooth and cold, but soft and worn. He looks down and picks up Kuroo's sweatshirt, the same one Kuroo had been wearing last night before losing it to the floor. It's still clean even after one night on the floor, smelling vaguely of Kuroo, and somehow Daichi finds himself pulling it on before he pads out of the room in search of Kuroo.
The sweatshirt is big even for Kuroo, which means that it is even looser on Daichi, despite him having more muscle on Kuroo. The sleeves are much too long on him, bunching around his wrists, and the hem reaches down to his thighs, brushing against bare skin as he walks. He stops by the bathroom before emerging into the living room where Kuroo is sitting at the coffee table with his laptop open in front of him.
"Hey," Daichi says, sliding down onto the floor, half-behind, half-beside Kuroo, and wrapping his arms around his waist.
"Hey." Kuroo answers, his tone warm and teasing as he adds, "Someone's friendly this morning."
"Mmph," Daichi says into his shoulder, looking over at the screen idly.
Kuroo turns his head to look at him, his mouth already open to say something, when his eyes catch on Daichi. The words die halfway to his mouth and Daichi can see the exact moment Kuroo registers just what Daichi is wearing. His gaze flits between the expanse of skin in the dip of the shirt collar and Daichi's thighs, barely covered by the bottom of his shirt as he tucks in his legs.
"You're doing this on purpose," Kuroo accuses, his voice hoarser than before.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Daichi says, hiding a smile against Kuroo's shoulder.
There is a hand on his thigh and Daichi indulges Kuroo as he drags it upwards, curving it from the outside in until his fingers are brushing the soft skin between his legs. Kuroo is almost on top of him, his eyes intent as his fingers dip under the hem of his shirt. The only thing Daichi had bothered to put on before leaving the room was a shirt and he can see this second realisation dawn on Kuroo as he draws away from Daichi.
"Well," Kuroo says, airy, like he's forgotten how to breathe.
"Well?" Daichi echoes, raising an eyebrow at him.
"You're definitely doing this on purpose," Kuroo says, his arms closing around Daichi and pulling him into his lap decisively.
It doesn't take much to persuade Daichi and he sits astride Kuroo, settling his legs on either side of his waist. In this position, he has the height advantage and for a change he's the one having to dip down to meet Kuroo. Kuroo kisses him, slow and lazy, his hand curling around the back of his neck. The other hand finds itself back on Daichi's thigh, his thumb going back and forth over the border between cloth and skin.
Daichi likes the way Kuroo kisses, the way he takes his time in moments like this, when he works Daichi's mouth open gradually like he wants to taste every inch of him. It leaves him dizzy when they break apart and Kuroo tugs at his bottom lip lightly with his teeth, satisfaction in the curl of his lip. He hadn't noticed when Kuroo had shifted his hand to his hip, pushing his shirt up as he moves it higher.
Daichi doesn't catch on to what Kuroo wants to do until Kuroo breaks away from their kiss, ducking his head down to his chest and closing his lips over his nipple. Daichi jerks away from the sudden sensation but there's an arm at his lower back, keeping him pressed up against Kuroo as he licks his way around the nub. It's always embarrassing when Kuroo does that and Daichi pushes at his shoulder, biting down on the distressed noises threatening to spill from his throat. Taking the hint, Kuroo shifts upwards, his teeth scraping against Daichi's collarbone instead.
"I don't complain when you do that to me." Kuroo sulks against his neck.
"It feels weird," Daichi replies, flushing dark. It feels good, but it's ticklish and every sensation goes straight down between his legs, where his cock is starting to rise against Kuroo's stomach. He feels Kuroo shift under him, pressing his hardening length against the underside of Daichi's thigh in response.
Kuroo's head is still tucked under his chin, his hair brushing against his jaw, but he isn't moving and Daichi eases him back against their sofa, trapping him in between his arms. There's this look on Kuroo's face as he gazes back at Daichi, gentle and wondering, and Daichi feels his heart swell.
"What are you thinking about?" Daichi murmurs, noticing how Kuroo follows the movement of his lips with a quick flicker of his eyes.
"Nothing really," Kuroo admits, closing his palms over Daichi's waist, descending slowly and pulling his shirt back down. "I can't really think straight when you're in my clothes."
"Good thing you're not then."
"Not what?"
"You know." Daichi grins. "Straight."
That pulls a surprised laugh from Kuroo and Daichi feels him shake under him. He's honestly surprised that went over Kuroo's head, seeing that he's Kuroo and that means the bad puns and innuendoes usually come from his side of the relationship.
"I really lucked out when I met you, didn't I?" His hands shift against Daichi's ass, a finger trailing down into the cleft between his cheeks, and Daichi exhales sharply at what it implies. "Daichi, can I?" Kuroo breathes.
Daichi nods and Kuroo smiles, pressing a kiss against the corner of Daichi's mouth as he slides that finger further down. Then he pauses. "Wait, where's the lube?"
"Uh." Daichi groans and puts his face on Kuroo's shoulder. He knew he had forgotten something after coming out of the bathroom.
Kuroo's smile goes crooked at the edges, in a teasing sort of way, as he says, "You didn't think to bring it out with you?"
"It sort of slipped my mind."
Kuroo kisses him again, this time lightly against his lips. "Okay, wait here."
The hands move down to the backs of Daichi's thighs, tugging him upwards and to the side, and suddenly Daichi finds himself spilling out of Kuroo's lap. Kuroo eases himself out from under him, getting to his feet and moving out of sight. Daichi hears clattering in the distance before Kuroo reemerges from the bathroom, a familiar bottle in hand.
Daichi knows how he must look to Kuroo now, with his arms folded on the sofa seats and his head resting on them, tilted to the side to watch for Kuroo as he comes back. He's in the position Kuroo left him in, sitting with his back arched and knees spread on the floor, the hem of Kuroo's shirt hiked up his thighs and the shape of his growing hard-on just visible beneath its soft material.
Kuroo swears under his breath, crossing the room in long strides and dropping to the floor again.
"Definitely on purpose," he mutters as he sits against the sofa and pulls Daichi back into his lap, where his length presses against the underside of Daichi's thigh, fully hard now.
Kuroo tugs his shirt up and over his head, bedhead and all, tossing it to the side. Daichi makes to do the same with his, only to have Kuroo yank it down over him, scowling as he holds the bottom of his shirt against his thighs. Daichi snickers at him and it's cut off in a gasp as he feels Kuroo prodding at his entrance, fingers now slick, the first sliding in slow and easy. It doesn't take long for Kuroo to add a second finger and its intrusion draws a soft whine from Daichi, hiding his face in Kuroo's shoulder to muffle the sound.
Kuroo is concentrating, working his fingers in, trying to find that right spot, and Daichi busies himself with biting at his bare shoulder, trying to distract himself from the pain-pleasure stretch of Kuroo's fingers. It's only when his body goes rigid, straightening up involuntarily from where he is curled over Kuroo, his mouth falling open with a soft "oh", that Kuroo eases up, turning his eyes back onto Daichi's face with a satisfied smirk.
He crooks his fingers in and up again and Daichi arches, a long, shuddering moan pulling deep from his throat. There is the sound of a lid popping open and Daichi feels a third finger pushing its way into him, stretching him wider. Kuroo has started moving, his teeth latching onto Daichi's earlobe and gently biting down as he thrusts deep into Daichi.
There is a feather-light brush of skin against his aching cock, running down the length of it, and Daichi goes light-headed at the sensation of it, scrabbling at Kuroo's shoulders as he works his eyes open to look at him. Kuroo is there to meet him as always, his eyes dark with anticipation, and he feels the fingers pull out. Then there are hands on him again, guiding him closer to Kuroo and raising him up so that the tip of Kuroo's cock catches on his rim.
"Can I?" Kuroo breathes right against his ear and Daichi can't hold back the tremor that wracks his body, making the both of them groan as he jerks down against Kuroo. But the hands on his hips hold him back, fingers digging into his skin so that only the tip of Kuroo's cock pushes past his entrance.
Daichi strains, but he has no idea where Kuroo is getting the strength from when he looks just as desperate as Daichi. Even then, his lips are curled in a smirk, his eyes challenging, and Daichi has never wanted to punch someone so badly in the middle of sex.
Instead, he fists a hand into the hair at the back of Kuroo's head and drags himself to him, his lips grazing Kuroo's cheek as he growls, "If you don't put it in now, Tetsurou, I swear I'm going to—"
"You could have just asked nicely, Daichi." Kuroo practically purrs and then he's thrusting upwards, hard, and Daichi loses all ability to form coherent thought.
He cries out sharply, caught by surprise, and his legs give way beneath him. Now that Kuroo has eased his grip on him, this means that he sinks deep onto Kuroo, stretched wide all at once. Kuroo's hips snap up at an angle reflexively, grinding right into that spot inside him and it's hot and Daichi whimpers, hands frantic against Kuroo's shoulders.
Kuroo rocks into him and Daichi tries his best to follow the rhythm he sets, although his legs aren't listening to him properly and his thighs are straining with the effort of holding him up. Kuroo is everywhere on him, his hands moulded to his hips to help him move and then moving to the front and touching him there. He feels Kuroo push his shirt up, dragging his palms up across his stomach, sweeping past his ribs and chest just to touch. His fingers brush over his nipples and Kuroo passes his fingers down over them again, lingering deliberately.
It's too much and Daichi presses close to Kuroo, lining the length of his body up against his. His thighs close tight around Kuroo's waist, his hands clutching at Kuroo's back, and then he's coming, trembling so hard it's like he's been shocked. Warmth spills between them, soaking into the front of his shirt, and all Daichi can do is hold on to Kuroo, his hips bucking helplessly against the pleasure sweeping over him.
Vaguely, he's aware that Kuroo is still hard inside of him, his thrusts becoming increasingly desperate as Daichi clenches around him. He knows that Kuroo is close, watching his mouth fall open and his eyes shut, eyelashes fluttering as he shudders under Daichi.
"Tetsurou," Daichi calls, sounding wrecked, his throat raw from crying out. He watches as Kuroo responds to his name, tilting his face up towards him. He wants to kiss him now and that's what he does, placing his lips against Kuroo's and keening softly into his mouth as he comes down from his high.
"Daichi." He feels his own name against his lips, low and heavy with intent, and then Kuroo's gone, pushing Daichi down onto him firmly and spilling into him.
It takes a while for the glazed look in Kuroo's eyes to subside and Daichi rests his head on his shoulder, exhausted, as he waits for him to recover. When Kuroo starts showing the first signs of life, Daichi moves, letting him slide out of him and sitting back fully on Kuroo's lap.
Kuroo catches him around the waist, a smile falling into place as he looks at Daichi. "Hey."
"Welcome back," Daichi returns, matching his smile. Kuroo's eyes are warm and bright, full of affection, as he gathers Daichi up in his arms.
Something wet presses against his stomach and the both of them look down, grimacing at the sticky mess between them. The shirt that Daichi is wearing is beyond salvaging and so are the sweatpants that Kuroo has on. Daichi tugs at them, his fingers coming around the waistband and that's when realisation dawns upon him.
"Aren't these mine?" he asks Kuroo, only noticing now that it's too loose around Kuroo's legs, ending too high at the ankles.
"I've got your socks too." Kuroo wriggles his toes. "It's probably the sexiest piece of clothing I have on now. No wonder you jumped me."
"They are my one weakness." Daichi laughs wryly.
He's so unbelievably fond of Kuroo, of the way he kisses, the way he holds him close and looks at him like he's the best thing that ever happened to him in his life. Daichi knows that feeling well because somewhere beneath the post-coital glow settling into his skin, he feels it too – it's love, plain and simple, rooted deep into him, carefully grown out of years and years spent with Kuroo. He can't imagine doing this with anyone else, doing this for anyone else, wearing their clothes, climbing into their lap in the middle of the morning and just feeling so, so contented.
"What are you thinking about?" Kuroo asks, lightly knocking his forehead against Daichi's, echoing his earlier question.
"Well, you," Daichi says and it comes out too honest and he flushes red, feeling heat gather in his face.
Kuroo's eyes crinkle at the edges, like he just knows. "Yeah, what about me?"
Daichi thwacks him in the chest before burying his face in his hair. "You know how I feel about you so stop that."
"I know," Kuroo says sagely. "You love seeing me in your socks."
Kuroo's hands glide up against his neck, easing his face away from his hair and Daichi sees the glint of a smile as Kuroo looks up at him. It's so tender, the way Kuroo holds his gaze, making sure that Daichi looks him in the eye, even though Daichi's sure that he's forgotten how to breathe and his chest feels tight around his heart.
"I love you too, Daichi," Kuroo says, his face pink even though his words are unashamedly brazen.
He flashes his teeth in a grin as Daichi curls around him wordlessly, hiding his overheated face in Kuroo's hair again, his heart beating in time with his.