Kurapika's Busy Tone

Mikey has always had people that fought for him, even if he’s more than capable to do so himself. Being the leader of Bonten is no different with this, aside from the fact that now they’re a Yakuza level gang, which means they don’t indulge in silly fights. Not when Sanzu likes to use weapons so much, and Mikey lets him every time.

But, today he wanted to test something, he wants to see if he can still get the same adrenaline by fighting that he used to get when he was a child. That’s why he decided to fight a bunch of his members at the same time, with the condition that they could go all out on him without the threat of being kicked out of the gang. His executives couldn’t get into the fight either.

After getting punched and punching for a whole hour, Kakucho stopped the fight, not caring about the repercussions of going against his leader. Sanzu, worried too, helps Kakucho to stop the brawl their childish leader had initiated.

“Y’all are fired.” Mikey says with a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Walk.” Kakucho grunts, tired of being the only mature one.

Mikey stops in his tracks when a sweet smell gets into his nostrils. He closes his eyes and smiles.

“I wanna eat that. Now.” He says in his usual cold tone.

With the help of his members, he walks till he finds the bakery and without thinking twice he enters, forgetting he’s all bloody. The small number of people that were there jumped out of their seats and out of the small shop. After a couple seconds you come from the back.

He stops walking, watching you expressionless. Truth is, he’s starstruck, you were here all this time? Was this bakery here all the time? Did he miss the opportunity of seeing this angel because of his laziness and making Sanzu drive him everywhere? Oh damn.

“Two muffins and three chocolate chips to… go.” Your voice gets smaller when you see around and note that it is empty, you raise your eyebrows, already used to this. “And it happens again.”

“We’ll take the order.” Mikey says out of nowhere because fucking hell, the disappointment in your face is making him feel things.

You look at him with a smile and then your smile drops, he sighs, knowing that you’re about to tell him to get the hell out of your shop with his murderer and dirty hands.

“Oh my God! Sir? Sir you’re bleeding!” You run to him. Kakucho and Sanzu, knowing that it’s almost impossible for you to be a threat to their leader since you don’t even seem to know who he is, let you get closer. “Come! come! Let me clean you up!”

Mikey nods, letting you take his hand and drag him to a table in a corner, you run behind the counter and come back with a first aid kit, then you take a chair and sit in front of him, between his legs, close.

“Wait outside.” He murmurs and just like that, he’s alone with you.

“I-I… Did you got jumped? Did you see their faces? You want to call the police?” You murmur with a worried face and start to get the things to clean the blood. He smiles.

“Yes, I got jumped. Yes, I saw their faces. No, I can’t call the police.” He answers you and you nod. He doesn’t make any face or sounds when you start to rub alcohol on his cuts.

“Oh, you started it then?” You ask him. “You can alway not answer if you don’t—,”

“Yes, I started it.” He murmurs, and you nod again.

“But, still, fighting in a group with one person is not right.” You shake your head. You take his face in your hands and he closes his eyes, enjoying the touch. “Look at me and follow my finger, please.”

When he does and you check that he’s okay you stand up and go to the back of the shop again, when you come back you have a shirt in your hand. You look at your feet.

“Mhm, my shop hasn’t been open for that long but I made some shirts with the logo so my partner could wear them… we took different paths so I have some.” You explain to him. “I think this one would fit you. You can change in my office.”

He looks at you for a couple seconds before giving you a smirk. He takes the shirt and walks where you showed him. When he comes back, more decent now, you are behind the counter humming a melody while preparing several cups of coffee. He sits at one of the chairs and you slide him a plate with the muffins and the cookies from before.

“They’re still fresh.” You tell him and then point to two of the cups. “Those are for your friends that helped you come here, can you call them?”

“Sanzu!” He shouts, not too loud since he knows Sanzu is just behind the door. When the pink haired guy shows his face Mikey nods. “C’mere with Kakucho.”

“Here, gentlemen.” You say softly, giving each man their cup. They take it, surprised. “The house is inviting.”

“You really don’t know who we are, do you?” Sanzu smirks and Kakucho pinches his side.

“Let’s wait outside.” Kakucho mumbles and bows to you. “Thank you, miss.”

After they are outside you look at the man still sitting at one of your chairs.

“Uhm, are you like an important person or something? I feel kind of dumb for not being able to recognize you.” You confess to him but he just shakes his head while chuckling.

“It’s not an obligation to know who I am, he just can’t keep his mouth shut about us.” You nod. “Name’s Mikey, I’m the leader of Bonten.”

You look at him expressionless and all he could think of is how long would it take for you to throw at his face the coffee you’re holding.

“Bonten as in… the gang? The big dangerous gang?” You ask in disbelief and he just nods slowly. “Oh.”

He tilts his head to the side, waiting. Suddenly you shake your head softly and give him your hand to shake.

“I’m sorry, I got distracted at the news, name’s Y/N, nice to meet you, Mikey.” You say and he takes your hand and leans to kiss it.

“You’re not scared.” He says, a confirmation, not a question.

“I am, but I can’t stop thinking at the fact that I didn’t recognize you or your frien… they work for you, right?” He nods and you groan. “My God, I live under a rock.”

“You’re… like fresh air.” He says in a low tone and you smile.

“You’re here already, I can’t do anything about it.” You shrug and bend down to look for something on the bunch of desserts that were on display.

“Do you want me to get out?” He asks you, you hum in disapproval.

“No, why would I want that? At least you haven’t left my desserts there like it’s a plague.” He frowns at that.

“What do you mean?” He gets comfy on the chair, drinking the coffee you made for him. “I’m falling in love with everything I’m trying.”

“People tend to come and order something but then make a big scene, talking about me getting the order wrong, and I had no choice but to make the “right” order, I’ve been losing money.” You say. “And in the first week my ex came making some drama so right from the start I don’t have a good image for clients.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll work on that, yeah?” He gives you a small smile and you give him a big one. You give him your hand to shake again and he can’t help but to be pleased at the fact that apparently you like skinship.

“So, friends, Mikey?” You tell him happily.

“Call me Manjiro, and yes… friends.” For now he wants to say but doesn’t dare to do it.

A whole month has passed and he confirmed his suspicions long ago; you adore skinship, your love language must definitely be touching. After the day he met you, he comes every day to your shop and every single time you walk around the counter just to give him a friendly hug. At first, he was kind of stiff, not remembering what it felt like to be touched so genuinely, but later he couldn’t stop himself from surrounding you with his arms and tightening his grip softly.

After that day you’re happier, the reason? You have more clients!! What he doesn’t tell you? Those are his men, business partners, girlfriends of his men. He made sure everybody knew where you’re located.

“Come! Come!” You drag him to the back of the store. “You need to try this.”

“What is it, love?” He asks you in a relaxed tone.

“Red velvet cake, I have been learning how to make it but I’m not that confident to put it on display…” You say shyly, he hums while caressing your back.

You take some with a fork and feed him, he closes his eyes and groans.

“This is so good…” He tells you and you jump excitedly.

“Yaay! Finally I got it right!” You were doing a happy dance while he was watching you with a love-drunk face.

“I like you.” He says out of nowhere and you stop dancing. You laugh.

“I know.” You whisper when he puts a hand on your waist and pulls you to his chest. You put your hands flat on his chest. “What are you gonna do about it?”

“Oh?” He mocks with a small smile and you giggle, letting your forehead touch his chest. “That’s easy, I’m going to—,”

A commotion interrupts him, but he is not mad. All he needed was to know that his feelings were reciprocated.

When you both get to the front your ex is on his knees in the middle of your shop, with Ran behind him, all dressed up in his expensive suit and a baton on his hand.

“Y-Y/N? W-What is this?” Your ex asks when he sees you, but you’re looking at Ran.

“Ran… Are you okay?” You ask, worried and Mikey behind you is smiling like he won the lottery, a stranger is on the floor with blood on his head and you’re asking Ran if he’s okay?

“Oh, yes, yes, of course I am, princess.” Ran smiles at you. “This… stranger tried to spray the windows but got caught by me and my brother when we were getting here to try your new cake.”

You look at the ceiling and then turn around to hide on Mikey’s chest, his hands instantly surrounding you.

“That’s my ex.” You whisper softly to Mikey.

“That’s her ex.” Mikey says out loud without missing a beat.

Rindou stands up from the chair he was comfortably sitting on.

“Who the fuck raised you?” Rindou asks, crouching in front of the man and slapping him. “Uh? Who do you think you are to try to destroy what took her so long to build? Mhm?”

“I’m–I’m sorry! Please please don’t kill me! Y/N! Y/N!” The man cries.

You look at Mikey and he smiles at you, he kisses your forehead softly.

“I’m not gonna do that, just letting the boys scare him a little bit so he stops bothering you, yeah?” You nod.

And then Sanzu enters the shop, he frowns.

“What is this? We agreed no violence in her shop?” He asks, confused. Ran looks like a little kid who won the biggest bag of candies.

“This is her ex, he was trying to spray the windows before getting stopped by me and Rindou.” Sanzu cracks his neck and smiles.

“Bring him outside.”

You watch in silence how Ran drags the man outside and then you look at Mikey, he looks like he wants to laugh.

“I… mhm, I’ll go with them, otherwise Sanzu’s definitely gonna kill him.” He chuckles at the horror in your face and leans to kiss your nose. “I told you that’s not gonna happen. They don’t make decisions by themselves, ‘Kay?”

“You promise?”

“I promise, baby.” He nods.

When he goes outside and to the alleyway, the trio are having the time of their life by kicking the man on the floor, when he gets closer they stop. Without saying a word he takes the gun from Sanzu’s pants and puts it in the guy’s face, right in the middle of his eyebrows.

“Let all this serve as a teaching, yeah buddy?” Mikey says in a cold tone. “Next fucking time I see you in the same place my woman is, these guys are gonna be the least of your problems, you understand?”

“Y-yes sir, i-i u-understand.” He cries.

He gave Sanzu his gun back, turned around and started to walk again.

“Don’t keep beating him. She doesn’t want him past-recovery. Just call him a taxi.” Mikey murmurs before entering the shop again.

When he doesn’t see you in the front he looks at some of his men that are still sitting there and they point to the back. When he gets there you’re sitting on the desk playing with your fingers in silence.

“I’m back.” He says in a soft tone.

He sits on the chair and pulls you on his lap, your legs at each side of his, he surrounds you with his arms.

“You okay?” He whispers and you nod. “You’re not talking to me, pretty.”

“I’m disappointed.” You whisper and he tenses up.

“In me?” You shake your head. “The guys?”

“My ex. Why? Why does he keep doing that? That time I told you about, he threw mud at the windows while there were clients inside.” Your voice breaks slightly and he moves around to distract you.

“That’s over, let's not go over there. We already talked and he promised me he’s not gonna bother you anymore. You’re okay.” He tells you and you sigh.

“Did you threaten him?”

“Yes.”

“Okay...”

“Do you want to know what I was about to say before we were interrupted?” He says with a smile to try to distract you and you nod, looking at him now.

“Yes, please.”

“Mhm… I was saying that it’s easy, I’m going to take you on a date, on multiple dates, and then I’ll ask you an important question that we kind of know the answer to but I wanna hear you say it anyways.” He smirks at your smile. “And then I’m gonna request something for you to do on some days.”

“What’s that?” You say softly.

“To touch me.” He whispers, now serious. You look at him and he tightens his grip on your hips softly. “Touch me, please.”

“B-But why…” You ask, while still doing what he asked you.

You start to touch his hair, scratching his scalp, then caress his face, you lean and kiss his forehead, his nose, his cheeks. He let out a shaky breath when you kiss his lips briefly.

“This was your request?” You whisper.

“Y-yes.”

“And you want this on some days?” You ask again.

“Yes, please.”

“I don’t.” He looks at you with surprise but you’re smiling. “Everyday or nothing. Every time you come to the shop or nothing.”

He sighs and bites his lip to try to contain his emotions, he hugs you again. Sweet Jesus, you’re going to kill him with your cuteness.

“Yes, yes, yes.” He whispers repeatedly. “Touch me as much as you can, please.”

You thought it’d be fun to join Mammon for one of his shoots… well, it was more like he was bragging so much about it that you decided to tag along. Really, you were just curious on how it would go and what he would wear and the like. You’ve seen him on some covers before and he looked fucking sexy, if you could just admit that right away, so why not be there first hand and experience the sexiness live? You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t gotten off to the thought of him in some of those very specific clothes just fucking you or mocking you, or better yet, teasing you. The idea of him looking nothing like himself but still so fucking attractive is… appealing. It’s like a whole new man, except he wasn’t.

You didn’t even make it halfway through the shoot without clenching your thighs, watching him pose in different positions and sneaking a glance every time he changed attire. He was sure he caught you groaning at some point and he called you out on it, too, making you embarrassed, “Oi! Whatcha groaning for? Ya bored?” But you quickly shook your head, licking his lips and staring at his semi exposed chest in that god damned white dress shirt. Most of the buttons hadn’t even been buttoned and the loose tie around his neck made him look just a little too delicious… you should ask for a preview of the pictures, “I… uh…” “Whatever. It’s almost lunch break. I’ll take ya out.” You swallowed thickly, nodding and watching him walk off, completely disregarding the fact that Mammon just invited you for lunch. 

You wanted a different type of lunch though. 

The next thirty minutes were pure hell. His mouth open, chest on display, the loose tie around his neck… it was killing you. Suddenly, his legs were spread and his arm was lazily resting on one of his thighs… they ruffled up his hair and you whimpered at the sight, taking in a sharp breath and cursing yourself for not being able to control your needs. “He’s… so hot…” It was more of a statement you made for yourself, but you swore he heard you when he walked back over, a grin on his face, “Come, babe.” A hand wrapped around yours, dragging you off of the chair you were sitting on and into one of the back corners of the studio. It was dark, kind of, but you could still see everything, and everything could see you. “M-Mammon..?” Excitement rushed through you at the thought of what he could be doing to you right now, looking like that… and it seemed he actually thought the same. 

“I saw ya lookin’ at me… devouring me with yer eyes like beel does his food…” You looked at him, too embarrassed to say anything in the moment that you didn’t even notice his tie had gone missing from around his neck, only to find your arms tied up to the railing behind you, “Mammon…” He chuckled, grinning down at you, “is that all ya can say, babe? My name? Better say it quietly, unless ya wanna get caught.” His grin never left his mouth, not even when his hand travelled up the skirt you so conveniently wore, his feet kicking your legs apart so he can properly feel you through your panties, “So wet… ya gettin’ turned on from some clothes?” You whimpered, feeling him brush his finger over your clit, your hole clenching around nothing. 

He took a deep breath, his grin falling into a smile as he pushed your panties aside, using two of his fingers to collect the juices between your folds, “I can smell ya… it’s really... sad how easily this turns you on.” Your writhed, twisting your body as he pushed them into your aching hole, looking up at him with pleasure filled eyes, “y-yes… I just… you look so good, Mammon.” He could laugh at your cuteness right now, but he was determined to have you shaking before lunch break was over. His head turned for a second, listening to what’s going on behind him, “I’m the only one shielding ya right now… ya want them to find out, don’t ya? For them to hear ya cry my name?” His fingers were pumping in and out of you, curling over your g-spot only to brush past again. You bit your lip, trying hard not to cry out, but a gaspy breath escaped you as you looked down where his fingers were moving, his arm looking out from underneath the skirt. “I.. no… I just want you to hear…”

Your hips rolled against his hand, feeling his thumb roll over your clit quite quickly. “Just me? Hm…” He moves around a little, to your side, his fingers leaving your hole and just working on your clit as he looks ahead and out with you, slowly leaning into your ear, “liar.” You bucked your hips against his hand, feeling him roll your clit with such expertise, it almost sent you over the edge right away, “M-Mammon…!” It was a whisper yell, one he almost laughed at when he saw one of the photographers stop and try to find the source of the noise. “They almost gotcha, slut.” 

You whimpered, rolling your hips against his hand as you gasped out, your orgasm rushing through you almost too quickly. Your hole clenched around nothing, desperately pleading to be filled by his cock, “Mammon.. Please…” You breathed out, clenching your teeth together as you rode out your orgasm. His stimulation to your clit never stopped, not caring that you just rode through an orgasm and were too sensitive there right now. Mammon saw you twist, trying to pull on the tie that held your hands above your head, but he didn’t care enough right now. This was hot to him, too. 

A low rumble erupted from his chest as he continued to circle your clit, licking his lips at the sight of you before the wetness of them attached to your neck, sucking on the sensitive skin. “(Y/N)...” Your name was almost too sweet on his lips, making you whine and throw your head back when he kissed over his newly made mark, “look at them. They wish they could figure out what is smelling so delicious right now… but yer my slut, aren't you?”  He slapped your clit lightly, causing your hips to buck out, before he went back to rubbing over it. The sound of your wet cunt against his fingers rung in both your ears, making you moan as you felt another orgasm way too soon after your first, “M-Mammon…!!” You tried to be quiet, but his name just rolled off your tongue. 

He must’ve taken mercy on you, seeing as he quickly covered your mouth his own, feeling you hum and groan against his lips, which parted for you to battle your tongue. You squirm underneath his touch, feeling him rub this orgasm out of you, too, before sliding his fingers back into your wet hole, which was still pulsating. “So needy… wet… aching… Tell me what ya want, slut.” You whimpered again, feeling him pull away as your body twitched with the aftershocks of the orgasm. “I.. I want you to fuck me… Mammon, please.. I need you.. I need your cock..” You tried to sound as needy as possible, knowing that’s exactly what he’s looking for right now. 

A laugh erupted from him as he pulled away, moving in front of you. “Ya? That’s all ya good for anyway, (Y/N). Nothin’ more than a needy hole to be filled by a demon like me. I ain’t stopping until ya drippin’ with my seed.” You watched him reach into his pants, pulling out his already hardened cock and giving it a few strokes. A grin spread back across his face as he watched you eye his length like a hungry dog, ready for dinner. “Look at ya… so desperate.” He lifted your legs up around his waist, pushing the skirt up enough and your panties back aside, easily sliding into your soaking cunt. 

You gasped out, biting your lip so as to not moan his name too loudly as he filled you. Slow movements stretched your walls around his cock as he pushed into you. The sensitivity from the previous orgasms had your body shaking as he thrusted into you, making quick work as the fear of time set in, “M-Mammon…” You breathed out his name like a prayer, begging for him to take you like he wanted to; like you wanted him to. He looked up at you, his grin falling into soft pants of his own as he thrusted into you hard, his tip brushing past the deepest parts of you. 

“That’s it… takin’ my cock like the needy whore you are…” The sounds of your wet cunt swallowing him up were echoing softly off the walls and you looked over his shoulder to see if anyone saw. Your body moved against the railing with every thrust, your hands clenched together as you tried to keep quiet. He was big, his cock relishing in the feeling of your warm, tight lips wrapped around it. Mammon lifted your skirt, watching his cock disappear between your folds while you moaned above him. 

“Look… how eagerly.. Ya swallow me up..” Your head rolled down to watch, groaning at the sight and feeling him speed up. His hand moved back down to roll over your clit, making you clench hard around him and his. “Fuck… babe.. Do that again..” He continued to toy with your sensitive bud, hearing you cry out quietly as his cock twitched inside. “Yeah…” He mumbled, taking you faster, harder. Grunts left his throat as he pushed you against the railing with his hips, snapping forward just in time to release inside of you. 

His stimulation to your clit continued, making you cry out quite loud as you came for the third time with him. Your eyes went wide, seeing several men walk fast around the set, trying to find the source of the noise, and if they really wanted to, they could. But all of this just seemed to excite you more as you rolled your hips back against Mammon’s who was still thrusting through his orgasm. “Told ya… to be quiet..”

You whimpered, feeling his hands move bruisingly to your hips as his own snapped forward hard, slamming into you. His teeth were clenched, determined to draw one more out of you as he pounded you against the railing. Your head rolled back in a quiet cry, your legs shaking around his waist as you tried to recover from the last orgasm before being shot straight into another. 

His cum seeped out around his cock, dripping down your legs as he plunged into you. The wet sound of his skin against yours, his shaft getting swallowed by you, had your heart pounding and eyes shut tightly, your walls pulsating in an attempt to keep him still. “M-Mammon.. I-I…” you tried to warn him of another orgasm, the overstimulation too much at this point, but he didn’t care. 

His thrusts became slowly, his balls slapping against your cunt almost violently as he pushed you through another one of your orgasms, making his own cock twitch in delight once more, “That’s … hghn.. It babe…” You were sure your body would be bruised after this with the sheer force he was using and the grip of the hands on your hips, but you didn’t care. Not when his hot seed spurted straight against your cervix and filled you up. His thrusts slowed down, still heavy as he pushed his seed deep inside of you again, grunting as he pushed up into you before finally stilling.

He hates himself for staring at you and hoping to catch you staring back. He hates himself for letting your words wash over his head, unheard, in favor of watching the way your lips curve and curl when you speak.

Most of all, he hates himself for loving you so fiercely in a particular way that would surely sour your stomach and send you running.

“I love you too,” you say, waiting for him to catch up and fall into step beside you. You take his hand and lace your fingers with his as you make your way up the street to your house. The windows glow a domestic orange, dimly illuminating the patch of asphalt before your front door.

It’s nearing seven now-- the gentle clinking of silverware and some sort of faint, savory scent from within inform you of dinner’s impending commencement.

“I know,” he says, cracking a crooked smile. You roll your eyes as he brushes a mocking kiss over your knuckles. “I’m hard to hate.”

three.

Most of the summer passes uneventfully, according to Kuroo’s standards. He manages to keep himself in check, even as he spends each and every day with you, dawn til dusk, savoring your presence the way a starving man savors his last ration.

He manages to treat you almost exactly as he’s treated you his entire life-- like a best friend. He tells his silly jokes that make you giggle and groan simultaneously. He pushes you off the pier when you least expect it, howling with laughter as you resurface, sputtering and flinging fiery invective. He shares an earbud with you as he walks downtown with you by his side, arm slung over your shoulder with carefully calculated composure.

He almost makes it to autumn without incident.

The small, hidden moments are what gives him away, though, layered within false nonchalance and easygoing grins like brightly painted matryoshka.

The way his chest constricts almost painfully when you laugh at a pun he’s ad-libbed on the spot, sending a flurry of butterflies freewheeling in the pit of his stomach.

“It really wasn’t that good,” he chuckles, tenderly watching as tears of laughter prick at the corners of your eyes and you grip his forearm in an attempt to steady yourself as giggles rack your body.

“No, it wasn’t,” you agree, struggling to catch your breath. “It was awful, and that’s what made it so funny.”

(He makes about a dozen more puns that day, feeling like he’s won the lottery whenever you so much as smile at his pitiful attempts at wordplay.)

The way his hands tremble when you turn around and ask him to tie your bikini string before you jump into the lake, the way he bites his lip so some horribly incriminating comment about how he really thinks you’d “be better off without the bikini at all” doesn’t slip out from his mouth.

“Thanks Tetsu,” you chirp after he ties the string around the back of your neck in a neat double-knot. You give him a wink and take off towards the water, kicking up sand in the process. “Last one in buys lunch!”

(He was already planning on paying anyways.)

The way he sits up a little straighter when you lean over and slip a hand under his arms to press ‘skip’ on his phone while you listen to his playlist-- you’re so close he can smell your lip balm.

“Sorry,” you say, smiling apologetically. “I don’t really like that band.”

(Later that evening, Kuroo goes through his Spotify and deletes every single song from that band he has on all of his playlists.)

Yes, he manages to keep himself in check outwardly. But inside, he can feel himself digging his grave a little deeper with each passing day. He watches the sands of summer run through his fingers with the dread of a man counting down the days to his funeral.

He just knows that one of these days he’s going to slip.

two.

He’s right, of course. There’s only so much emotional torment one person can humanly endure. It’s just that he’s hoping he can extinguish this inconvenient, one-sided flame before August comes around. Maybe then everything can go back to normal, whatever normal might entail.

Needless to say, Kuroo’s hopes are dashed before summer comes to a close.

It’s a sticky July evening when you and he drive out to an empty parking lot at the edge of town, a blanket and an old transistor radio in tow. You’re wearing a pale yellow sundress that falls to just above your knees-- he’s glad it’s not any shorter, and that the breeze isn’t quite strong enough to lift your hem.

“I think I can see Orion’s belt,” you say, pointing towards somewhere far into the cosmos. Kuroo squints, trying to follow your finger.

“I don’t think that’s Orion,” he says. “Looks like a cat to me.”

The two of you are sitting on a blanket spread across the hood of his car, craning your necks to make out vague shapes in the stars. Between you, slow, muffled music trickles out from the radio’s small speakers, some sort of vintage tune from the forties.

“How in the world are you seeing a cat?” You shake your head, giving him a hard poke on the shoulder. “Looks more like a swarm of astral bees than anything.”

“Astral bees,” he repeats with a laugh. “Laziest constellation interpretation I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s not lazy,” you protest. “It’s accurate.”

Kuroo just smiles and shrugs, sneaking a glance at you. Your face is bathed in milky starlight, eyes wide as you peer up at the cloudless sky with a blend of wonder and appreciation. There’s some competition, but he thinks this might be the prettiest you’ve ever looked in a single moment.

As if you can feel his stare, you turn to catch his gaze. A gentle smile breaks onto your face, and you absentmindedly tuck a strand of hair behind your ear with the endearing shyness of a schoolgirl. “What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing,” he says, mirroring your grin. “You just… look nice right now.”

“No, seriously,” you laugh disbelievingly. “Is there something on my face?”

“I am being serious,” Kuroo insists, fidgeting with the blanket beneath his palms. “You look good. Yellow suits you.”

You flush, glancing down at your dress. You bought it two summers back, and he’s seen you in it a million times before. This is the first summer where he’s really seen you, though. “Well, thank you. It’s a warm night, so I figured I was better off in a dress than pants.”

“Yeah,” he says softly, breaking eye contact to squint up at the stars. He grins and points, finger trembling slightly. “I think I can see where you’re coming from, with the bees.”

one.

A staticky, syrupy waltz comes on the radio, bleeding into the cracks in the comfortable silence. You sigh contentedly, leaning back onto the windshield. “I like this song. It’s… nostalgic.”

Kuroo cocks an eyebrow at you. “You’ve heard this before?”

“No,” you laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. “But it reminds me of times gone by, you know? Like, this is the sort of music I imagine playing when a soldier reunites with his wife after the war.”

“When he comes running out of the train and drops his bags on the platform,” Kuroo continues, watching you carefully, “only to sweep his girl off her feet and spin her around wildly.”

You nod, sneaking a glance at him. “You really know me that well, huh?”

“Yeah,” he says, eyes crinkling with humor. “But I get it, too. It has that old fashioned romance thing goin’ on.”

“Mhm,” you agree. You reach over and fiddle with the radio’s volume, turning it up just enough to round out the sound completely.

Kuroo sits for a moment, watching you close your eyes and hum along to the music. Then, a sudden boldness taking the reins, he hops off the hood and walks over to you, extending his hand. “Take it.”

“What?”

“Take my hand,” he insists, so you do, gingerly placing your palm atop his. “We’re going to dance.”

“Oh, no,” you laugh, nonetheless letting him help you down from the car and resting a hand on his shoulder. He lightly places his own on your waist, leading you out into the parking lot. “You know I can’t dance.”

“I can’t either,” he reminds you. “But I want to dance with you right now.”

As you begin to sway slightly to the music, Kuroo pulls you a little closer to his chest, letting his chin brush the top of your head. “Why are you into that whole idea?”

“What idea?” you ask quietly, letting him lead you in slow circles around the lot.

“The idea of an old fashioned love.”

“Oh,” you say, laughing as Kuroo spins you in his arms, catching you before you stumble. “I’m not sure… maybe because it seems more constant than love today. Like, today, if you tell someone you love them, it’s a compliment, not a promise. But back then, it was a vow. It meant something.”

Kuroo swallows, looking down at you. His heartbeat pounds in his ears, threatening to burst out of his temples. I’m about to do something I might regret.

zero.

“I need you to do something for me,” he says, voice low and thick with caution. “Close your eyes.”

“What?”

“Please,” he says, voice breaking. He knows that if he doesn’t do this now, he never will. You look beautiful to him in this moment, dancing with him in the empty parking lot to the faint melody of an old waltz. Your eyes glisten with life, your lips gently parted, hair slightly curling over your cheeks.

You roll your eyes once but nonetheless close them obediently, relying a little more on his arms to steady you. He swallows. “Okay. So, imagine we’re living in the 1940s.”

“Okay,” you say, smiling slightly. “I’m imagining.”

“Imagine I enlisted in the war, and I just got back home. Imagine you’re waiting for me at the train station.”

“Mhmm,” you say, trying your best to envision the platform. “You look good in that uniform, Tetsu.”

He chuckles. “I look good in anything.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, squeezing his hand. “Get on with it.”

“Imagine I come sprinting out from the train and you’re waiting there with open arms. This song is playing on the platform speakers. I ask you to dance just like we are now.” Kuroo watches you grin, feeling his heart flutter. “Then, imagine I tell you something.”

Unconsciously, you shift closer to him, almost pressing your body flush to his. A breath hitches in his throat. “What do you tell me?”

He leans down, brushes his lips against your ear. “I love you.”

You open your eyes, head cocked, slight confusion cloaking your features. “You mean, like…?”

Kuroo shakes his head. “No. I mean, like, I love you. Not just in a friend way. In that old fashioned way you were talking about. I love everything about you. I’m in love with everything about you.”

“Tetsu…” you breathe, searching his face. He gazes down at you seriously, not a trace of humor tainting his stare. He takes a deep breath.

“I love the way your hair falls in the summer. I love your stupid, annoying laugh. I love how your hand fits in mine. I love the way you rant about anything and everything and expect me to listen, and I do because I can’t help but get excited about what you get excited about. I love you like a soldier loves his wife,” he says, the words flowing out like a river bursting from a dam. “I love you so much it hurts, and it scares me, and I’m sorry if this ruins stuff between us, but I just had to--”

“Shut up.”

He blinks, mouth gaping. “I-- what?”

“I said,” you whisper, gripping the back of his neck and guiding his face down to yours. “Shut up, Tetsu. You talk too much.”

Then suddenly you’re kissing him, and he can’t believe it, but he kisses you back like it’s what he was born to do. He lets you crash your lips into his and watches as shooting stars burst forth and the planets align. Somehow, your hands find their way up into his hair, tangling themselves in his dark locks, and his own travel down to your lower back, pulling you as close as humanly possible, so tightly he never wants to let go. He revels in the warmth of your skin, the icy, tingly sensation of your lips, and when you pull back, it’s all he can do to refrain from pulling you right back in again.

There’s a brief silence. His lips are swollen, his lungs are devoid of air. “I… wow. Just, wow.”

You grin wickedly, slipping your hand into his. “I’ve been waiting to do that for a while now.”

“You have?” he asks, eyes wide in disbelief. “I didn’t notice.”

“Of course you didn’t,” you laugh. “You were too worried about not letting me notice you staring at my ass every chance you got.”

Kuroo flushes but gives a sheepish smile, massaging the back of his neck. “You know, I really thought I was being smooth about it.”

--

As it turns out, you love him back. And not just in the best friend way. You love everything about him, his stupid jokes, his loud, booming laugh, his teasing, his smile, his successes and his failures. You love how your hand fits in his. You love that it took him years and years to admit to himself that he loved you, too.

Kuroo Tetsurou may not be the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s certainly the only one you want. And you’re certainly the only one he wants.

3rd Person P.O.V

Fluffed blankets felt like velvet on what skin remained exposed in her sleepwear, arms pulled close to her frame as if sheltering them. Quiet shudders escaped trembling lips, like the first gusts of cold wafting into the season. 

“(F/n)? Are you cold?” Golden brown eyes skimmed the imagery before him as if he were admiring a painting, lips quirked just slightly upwards. “Just a bit, it’s alright, keep studying! Don’t let me bother you” As if on cue, a full-body shudder overtook frigid skin. “You’re freezing, (F/n).” He deadpanned.

“I’ll be alr-” Wheels clicked against the hardwood when he turned around fully, standing up and sitting on the bed cautiously. “I’m going to try something, if that’s alright?” She nodded, eyes widened at the warmth practically radiating off his clothed skin. A small gasp escaped her upon the feel of calloused, heated fingers slowly wrapping around her waist as he slowly nuzzled into her side. “I’m sorry, I’m new at this. Cuddling, right?” 

Silence. One, two beats of the overhead clock before she laughed aloud. “Aw, Kita! I thought you didn’t want to try cuddling?” Turning in his grip, (e/c) eyes met hazel. “It’s not that, I just don’t know how. So I looked it up, am I doing it right?” His arms framed her figure as his legs intertwined with her own, gaze calm and unmoving despite the erratic heartbeat pressed against her ear. 

“Yes….you’re so warm.” The soft scent of fabric conditioner and the ocean breeze filled her senses, not overwhelming as it enveloped her in gentle comfort. He felt like sunlight, warmth dancing along her sweater and practically glowing against her and she couldn’t get enough, grinning into his shirt. “Thank you, Shin...how are you so warm?”

“It’s not a problem, tell me next time you’re cold.” Shinsuke’s words were short and straightforward despite honey practically dripping off the undertones, the sweet warmth he provided. “This feels nice.” He admitted.

“Doesn’t it? We should do it more often!”

“I’d like that.”

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Word Count: 351

Not Edited

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