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Daichi doesn’t mean to stare.
He honestly doesn’t, and it shouldn’t be an issue anymore, because really, this crush is something he should have dropped in high school. It should have never developed in the first place.
But Kuroo is helplessly beautiful and graceful regardless of if he means to be or not, and Daichi likes pretty, shiny things. He is only human, and the arch of Kuroo's back as he practices blocking with a few of his friends is-- Ahem. Well.
Daichi is going to get caught one day, he knows, if he hasn’t already been. Choosing to live together during their second year of college has not helped matters; Daichi tries to convince himself that it hasn’t necessarily made matters worse, either. (It totally has.)
Kuroo walking towards him knocks Daichi from his thoughts.
“You alright there?” the older boy laughs, and Daichi fights to ignore the twist in his chest.
“Yeah,” he manages through a closing throat. He mentally applauds himself for the way it doesn’t come out choked. Kuroo gives him a weird look and Daichi starts to sweat.
“Wanna head back?” Kuroo asks after a moment of sizing Daichi up. Not “sizing me up”, asshole, Daichi thinks to himself. Looking at. Like a normal human being.
“Sure,” Daichi says.
The walk back is silent; Daichi would think Kuroo was mad at him if not for the mellow, aimless tune the older boy hums during their short trek. When they enter their shared apartment, he calls over his shoulder, “I’m going to take a shower,” and leaves Daichi alone with his thoughts.
Stupid, Daichi thinks as he hears the shower turn on. Masochistic. Suga has told him a million times to be honest, with himself and with Kuroo, but Daichi can’t bring himself to. Kuroo is pretty and popular and one of his best friends, and any honesty he could bring to the table would just ruin it for both of them. He knew what he was getting into by agreeing to live with the other man, though he hadn’t expected it to feel quite so akin to ripping himself open again and again every morning.
Stop being so melodramatic, Daichi chastises himself, and lies down on the couch to distract himself with Netflix.
When Daichi wakes, he feels overwarm and groggy and exactly like he’d fallen asleep on a couch for three hours. The shower is off, which makes sense, but it leaves the apartment dark and utterly silent.
Daichi’s heartbeat immediately picks up when he hears the clear, quiet sound of a muffled moan break that silence.
Peeking tentatively over the back of the couch, Daichi hisses a curse under his breath when he sees a line of artificial golden light coming from Kuroo’s cracked-open door. He lies back down against the couch, ignoring the way his shirt is sticking to his back. His heart is beating hard.
Thankfully, mercifully, Kuroo is mostly quiet, but Daichi is still hyper aware of every rustle of sheets, every gasp and quiet moan that manages to reach his ears. Something in the air changes when the other boy finishes, and Daichi forces his body to go lax and hopes to God Kuroo thinks he’s still asleep when the other man’s door opens a while later.
“Daichi?” Kuroo calls into the living room, voice rough and threatening to make Daichi shiver. He pretends to stir the second time Kuroo calls his name.
“What’s up?” he mumbles.
“You hungry?” Kuroo asks, leaning over the back of the couch. When Daichi cracks an eye open, his mouth goes dry; Kuroo’s cheeks are still a bit flushed, the product of being so fair-skinned; his bedhead is as bad as it is in the mornings. He looks delectable.
“Uh,” Daichi says. Kuroo snorts, reaching down and shoving a cold hand into Daichi’s hair to ruffle it.
“Still tired, eh?” Kuroo jokes. Daichi forces himself not to focus on Kuroo’s lingering hand.
“Mm,” he hums. “Pizza.”
“Pizza it is, then.”
“I heard him jerking off last night,” Daichi is lamenting to Suga the next day over milkshakes.
“You what?” Suga asks, and Daichi groans, putting his head in his hands. “That hasn’t been a problem before now?”
“No,” Daichi whines. “Well, I mean, yes. But last night he left his door open.”
Suga snorts. “That sounds like a sign if I’ve ever heard one.”
“No!” Daichi insists. “It’s, he. I was asleep on the couch. Like, I’m sure he didn’t do it because of… You know.”
Suga arches a skeptical eyebrow. “You know Kuroo is a little weird.”
“A little?” Daichi deadpans. Suga laughs.
“Daichi. You have to tell him. You’re going to die of high blood pressure,” Suga says, taking a sip of his milkshake. Daichi sighs.
“It’s easier to suffer alone,” Daichi mopes, sealing his lips around his own straw defeatedly. Suga gives him a pointed look, but says nothing further.
It happens again.
This time, though, there is no shower, no sleeping Daichi. He’s on the couch in a T shirt and lounge pants, playing a game on his phone as he neglects his homework.
The sound of a sharp, hitched gasp catches Daichi’s attention like a helplessly hooked fish and refuses to let it go until Daichi very slowly, very nervously turns to see that this time, Kuroo has left his door open.
And God, what a sight he makes.
The angle Daichi is at combined with the position of Kuroo’s bedroom door leaves Daichi with limited visibility, but it’s enough. He’s on his back, one hand in his hair, the other palming at the front of his sweats, brows furrowed, teeth digging into his lower lip.
His eyes are closed. He knows he left his door open.
“Kuroo,” Daichi croaks, throat dry. He turns back around before he can see the other react. “You left your door open.” He stares blankly down at the empty screen of his phone, heart and mind racing.
After several moments of stagnant silence, Daichi turns back around and gasps in surprise when he’s met with Kuroo’s very naked chest, the taller man’s hands braced over the back of the couch. Daichi glances up to Kuroo’s flushed cheeks.
“Um.”
“A little blond birdy told me,” Kuroo murmurs, sounding somehow different than Daichi has ever heard him sound, “that you might be into me.”
“And this is how you...” Daichi trails off, not at all surprised and completely indignant. Of course Suga’s patience would wear this thin; Daichi is only surprised that it took this long for the other boy to say something to Kuroo.
“Are you?” Kuroo asks, sounding raw and maybe a little nervous. Daichi opens his mouth and then closes it again.
“I. Yeah.”
“Oh, thank God,” Kuroo breathes, making his way around the couch to sit down next to Daichi. Daichi tries to ignore the still very-present erection pressing against the front of Kuroo’s pants. “The other night, I… it was an experiment. Um.” When Daichi pulls his eyes to Kuroo’s face, he sees the humiliation of his confession written all over it. Daichi laughs.
“An experiment?”
“Don’t laugh! I figured if you stayed asleep, then it was fine, but if you woke up, you’d react… I don’t know. One of two ways?”
Daichi is dizzy with it and keeps laughing, albeit quieter, until he realises something.
“Wait,” he says. “You knew I was awake?”
“I mean, I knew you were pretending to be when I came to ask if you were hungry,” Kuroo says. “I live with you. Also, I've, um. Seen you staring.”
“Right,” Daichi says.
They stare at each other for a beat.
“So,” Daichi says. He gestures awkwardly to Kuroo’s crotch. “Do, um. Do you want help with that?”
“You really want to?” Kuroo asks. He’s grinning like he knows Daichi wants to, but the shake in his tone gives away his uncertainty.
“Yeah,” Daichi says, and leans in to kiss Kuroo to prove it. He means to start it slow and build up like he’s always fantasized of doing, but Kuroo is still clearly aroused and immediately climbs into the younger man’s lap the second their lips meet. The forwardness of the action gives Daichi confidence, though, and he greedily drags his hands up Kuroo’s warm, muscled back as he licks into his mouth.
Kuroo is responsive, too; he keeps gasping into Daichi’s mouth, unable to keep his hips still, hands firm against the sides of Daichi’s neck like he needs something to anchor himself to.
“Daichi,” Kuroo whines against his lips, breath humid. Daichi hums, letting his hands fall to Kuroo’s strong, firm thighs to rub circles into the sensitive skin there.
“What do you want?” Daichi teases.
“I really,” Kuroo breathes, lips barely brushing Daichi’s, “really want you to touch me.” His hands are still on Daichi’s neck; Daichi can feel his fingers twitching, cool against his flushed skin.
Daichi complies immediately, trailing his fingers over the curve of Kuroo’s cock through his sweats. Daichi feels his throat go desert dry as he does, heart pounding in his chest, his throat, his palms. Kuroo lets out a sweet, trembling breath, and it breaks over Daichi’s lips, tempting him to lean up and kiss Kuroo again, so he does.
He swallows the soft sigh Kuroo exhales when he lets his fingers hook into the older boy’s sweatpants and drag them down over his hard cock, drinks in the unwitting unh Kuroo pushes into his mouth when he wraps his hand over the hot flesh.
“Daichi,” Kuroo says again, and already Daichi feels overwhelmed and burning without Kuroo using his sexed-out voice on him, so he uses his free hand to grab Kuroo’s chin gently and angle him so he can kiss him harder, more thoroughly.
Daichi works his hand in firm, teasing strokes, letting his thumb catch and drag against Kuroo’s foreskin, stomach jumping at the muffled moan the gesture elicits. He pulls away from all of Kuroo for only a second to spit into his hand, and Daichi is rewarded for it when his slick palm has Kuroo crying out against him.
“Tell me what you think about when you touch yourself,” Daichi growls, moving his free hand down to grab and palm at Kuroo’s ass. His own need is clouding his head, silencing his judgment, making everything feel hazy and muffled.
“You,” Kuroo gasps reflexively before gathering his wits. He slides his hands into Daichi’s hair and tugs, trying for a better answer. “Your hands, your mouth, your fucking fingers, Daichi, fuck,” Kuroo whines when Daichi squeezes the base of his cock.
“Do you think about me often?” he asks, softer this time.
“I think about you every fucking time, you asshole,” Kuroo half-sobs, leaning back down to kiss Daichi desperately. Daichi speeds up the pace of his hand and tries valiantly not to lose his mind when Kuroo starts pushing his hips into it, matching his rhythm in a way that sends both of their heads spinning.
“You’re gonna make me come,” Kuroo breathes when he tears his mouth from Daichi’s, panting as he brings their foreheads together. His eyes bore hard and bright into Daichi’s own.
“You’re so fucking hot,” Daichi whines, heart and stomach surging together. “Kuroo, shit, c’mon, come for me, please.” He keeps murmuring aimless praise until Kuroo’s body goes tense over Daichi’s own. The flutter of Kuroo’s eyelids as he fights to keep his eyes open through his orgasm is probably the most erotic thing Daichi has ever seen in his entire life, almost enough to distract him from the hitched moan that drops from Kuroo’s lips.
Most of Kuroo's come lands on Daichi’s shirt, but he lets it go because tomorrow is laundry day and also, he just made Kuroo Tetsurou come in his lap.
“Oh my God,” Kuroo says, eyes still closed as he catches his breath. When he opens them, he laughs at Daichi’s awestruck expression.
“Shut up,” Daichi says, cheeks going pink. He glances away, sudden doubt wrapping its icy fingers around his heart almost as soon as Kuroo’s go to the waistband of his pants. He lets himself indulge when Kuroo’s hand wraps around him, skin on skin, sighing with it.
Daichi lasts an embarrassingly short amount of time, letting Kuroo muffle most of his sounds with his lips and tongue. He watches Kuroo’s handsome, sated face in the aftermath, his dick giving a halfhearted twitch when the other man brings his dirtied fingers to his mouth to suck the come off of them.
“You’re gross,” Daichi says, nose wrinkling.
“Mm,” Kuroo hums, licking his lips when he pulls his now-clean hand away from them. “I believe you were just crying about how hot I am.” He smirks down at Daichi. Daichi glances away, feeling foolish with a lapful of cute boy and his softening dick still hanging out of his pants.
It’s quiet for a while. Neither of them move.
“Listen,” Kuroo says finally, tucking himself back into his sweats before carefully doing the same for Daichi. Daichi winces despite the gentleness. “I don’t want this to be a, um. A one time thing. If you know what I mean. And, uh. If that's okay.”
Daichi stares blankly, brain running on overdrive as he tries to process everything that's happened in the last fifteen minutes. Kuroo rubs at the back of his head before dropping his hands awkwardly to his lap. He looks boyish and sweet sitting there, pink highlighting his cheeks and the bridge of his nose. Daichi’s heart lurches again.
“Are you asking me to be your boyfriend?”
“Uh. Sort of.” Kuroo won't meet his eyes.
Daichi smiles. “Okay.”
“Really?” Kuroo says, perking up again.
“I mean, sort of.”
“Oh, shut up, you asshole,” Kuroo laughs, leaning down to kiss Daichi again. His lips are still tangy with the remnants of Daichi’s come, and Daichi shudders as he swipes his tongue against them.
“Now who’s the gross one?” Kuroo teases, and Daichi shuts him up with another kiss.