No regrets

Another exhale gusts from his lips as he reluctantly returns his attention to his work once more. Kuroo stares ahead, mind blank, eyes glazing over. His fingers make no move to inch towards his mouse or keyboard. 

He really should carry on working. There are deadlines to meet. Materials to review and prep. Sponsors to answer and chase up. 

But he just can’t bring himself to.

Accepting defeat, he powers his PC down and crudely tidies his desk. He swipes up his keys, drapes his blazer over his arm and trudges out of the building, turning the lights off as he goes.

Rainclouds darken the skies above to the gloomiest shade of grey visible to the human eye, fat droplets pouring forth in a heavy onslaught that matches his mood. It’s cold as it soaks through Kuroo’s shirt, making it cling to the lines of his torso and he scowls. He doesn’t have the time to get sick at this point in the volleyball season, so he tosses his blazer over his head and hurries to the station, managing to catch his train just as it begins to leave. People give him dirty looks as he drips water all over the carriage floor, but he ignores them, leaning his head against the railing he’s holding onto as the train rattles towards his stop. 

Most days pass by like this. Monotonous. Grey. Cold. Work is always a blur of fake smiles and polite laughter, the easygoing facade he wears like a second skin not slipping for even a second. Not that anyone would notice if it did slip. They need their Chief of the Sports Promotion Division on top form at all times, despite the threads of silver running through his thick hair a little earlier than they should, or the shadows hanging beneath his sharp eyes. 

There was a time when it wasn’t a facade. Back when Kuroo’s eyes were bright and shining with life and mischief, a time where he could laugh and smile freely, when his chest didn’t feel like it would cave in the moment he stepped into the silence of his apartment. When his friends were close by, even if they were halfway across the world, and when the job that filled him with pride didn’t weigh on his shoulders quite so heavily. He feels like Atlas, sometimes, holding up the skies for the sake of the people below, though his plight is not quite so earth-shattering. 

Though, it does feel like it sometimes.

A soft meow captures his attention as the door swings shut behind him. A little of the tension in his shoulders falls away, a soft, weary smile curling at the corner of his lips as his cat trots into view, blinking at him expectantly.

“I know, Honey, I’m home,” he says, bending to gently scratch behind her ears. “Let’s get some dinner, hm?”

She meows her assent and leads the way to the kitchen, fluffy black tail held elegantly in the air. He rolls his eyes affectionately and follows, leaving his soaked blazer by the door.

This is his break in the clouds, the little ray of sunlight that peaks through when he finds refuge from the almost unending rain. Kuroo never thought he would be the type of guy to find companionship in a pet like this, but Honey is the one thing keeping a light on in the darkness. An anchor at sea, a fluffy tether keeping his feet on the ground, a constant warmth to seek comfort in. He’ll never tell anyone as much, of course. The pitying looks alone would make him shrivel up - even she doesn’t know how much he needs her.

She is everything. All he has. And her little white paws kneading his lap when he finally flops onto the sofa after a hurried instant dinner, remind him that his heart still works.

And like most nights, she falls asleep curled up on him before he can move to get up, so he dozes off there too, neck bent at an angle that promises a crick come morning.

Saturday greets him with more gloom, the steely clouds still lingering from the previous night, saturating the world below with another shower. Honey has long since hopped off him and disappeared, allowing him to stretch, groan, curse, and trudge his way into the bathroom, his work clothes wrinkled and smelling faintly of petrichor and cat. Kuroo lets them drop to the floor before he shuffles under the hot stream of the shower, letting out a wide yawn as he quickly scrubs himself clean.

He’s somewhat thankful that his weekends are often clear these days, giving him more time to attempt to recuperate from the hellish week he’s slogged his way through. Self care and all that.

Though, Kuroo’s idea of self care is a little unorthodox. It usually involves too much TV, smoking his way to a headache, and then napping to chase away the self-inflicted throbbing at his temples. Rinse and repeat. The same as always.

Maybe he should call his dad today, he thinks to himself as he turns off the shower and steps out, dripping water all over his tiled floor. It’s been a while. Or maybe his sister? Though she’s probably busy with her family, given that it’s the weekend. He could try Kenma, he usually picks up. But there’s probably not much to catch up on and he’s likely busy too. 

Kuroo sighs as he swipes the steam off the mirror above the sink and sticks his toothbrush in his mouth. He stares at his reflection and a stranger stares back at him. He looks almost gaunt these days, it amazes him how well he’s managed to fool those around him. He used to take good care of himself, taking pride in his appearance, confident in his own skin. 

But now…

He spits into the sink, rinses his mouth out and turns on his heel before he can sink into those thoughts any further.

“Honey!” he calls out as he puts breakfast together in his small kitchen. He sets her bowl on the floor before returning to his eggs that are starting to catch and crisp in the pan. He clicks his tongue a few times and coos her name again when silence answers. “C’mere baby, where’s my little lady?”

Silence again. No tapping paws on tile.

“Honey?” Kuroo frowns as he sits at the table with his own food, brow furrowing slightly. She’s usually quick to appear, especially when there’s food involved. He calls out to her one last time and then resigns himself to eating breakfast alone.

The rest of his morning passes in the same manner. It’s quiet as he cleans. No curious ‘mrrow?’ as he pops out of his apartment to quickly pick up the post. Even when he ducks out onto the balcony for a smoke with his second cup of coffee, Honey isn’t butting the glass with her tiny forehead, eager to wind herself between his legs and have her chin scratched.

Kuroo scratches the stubble on his own chin as he puts his cigarette out against the wet balustrade and leaves the crumpled butt at the bottom of his now empty mug. “Where has she gone?” he mutters to himself as he pokes his head into every room, checking under and around every piece of furniture in his small apartment. The longer his search stretches on, the more worried he grows, the spark of anxiety flickering in his chest blooming into panic once he’s turned his home inside out.

This isn’t like her. She’s never run away before. Did he forget to close a window last night? Or perhaps it was the balcony doors? Maybe curiosity led her outside or maybe she’d grown bored of his place. Whatever the reason may be, Kuroo rushes out of the building, not even attempting to ask his neighbours if they’ve seen her as he takes to the streets, the rain quickly dampening his clothes and hair all over again.

There’s no rhyme or reason to his search. He just flits around wildly, a madman to those around him as he scours Tokyo in search of his cat. Hours pass by in a blur, until his surroundings grow more and more unfamiliar, the weather continuing to punish him for his complacency. 

It doesn’t matter, though. All that matters is that his little Honey is okay.

Streetlights begin to flicker on as the afternoon melts into evening. Kuroo slows down, darkness gradually descending with the sunset and dragging his hopes down with it. Dejected, exhausted and cold, he drags his soaked self onto the nearest bench he can find, stretching his long legs out in front of him. He doesn’t know which park this is, or which part of the city he’s in, all he knows is that he’s lost the one thing that was keeping him afloat. Tipping his head back, he stares up at the sky, unsurprised to find that not even the stars are willing to keep him company anymore. His eyes sting.

So. This must be rock bottom.

How did he end up here? When did this hollowness begin to fester within him? 

Over the course of his life, Kuroo has become a master at hiding. Tucking emotions away in his pockets for a ‘later’ that would never come, working away in the shadows so that others could shine more brightly, setting aside dreams for stability and to nurture the world he’s always held so dear to his heart. 

He’s hidden himself so well that he’s disappeared from view altogether. After all, he can handle himself. He’s always got things under control. When things go south, he’s the one to go to. A reliable colleague, a cocksure leader, a good friend, a son to be proud of- it’s simply impossible for a struggling Kuroo to exist in this world.

And yet. Here he sits, alone and soaked through, feeling his heart crumple like an empty can. His ears ring with the sound of it. Throat tight. It’s dizzying.

At least the rain has stopped.

“Excuse me?”

The rustle of plastic has him blinking back his blurring vision, accompanied by an unfamiliar voice that draws him out of his gloomy thoughts. Kuroo tips his chin down, coming face to face with your mildly concerned expression. You raise the carrier bag in your hand and offer it to him, along with a polite smile. 

“Hi. I, uh, bought too many snacks,” you say sheepishly. “I thought you could use some.”

“Oh… kay?” Kuroo is confused but accepts the bag nonetheless, peering inside curiously. This is weird, right? Is this a thing in this neighbourhood? Do people just randomly hand out bags of food to strangers? Especially strangers sulking in a park at night? Do you have no sense of self-preservation? She’s just being nice, he reasons. You probably look like you’re contemplating walking into oncoming traffic. “Thanks, I guess,” he murmurs, only now realising just how hungry he is. It’s been hours since he had breakfast. 

“You should probably get yourself to the shelter soon,” you say, tucking your hands into the pockets of your parka as you straighten up. “It’s forecast to rain again in a couple of hours.”

“Shelter?” Kuroo asks, rifling through the contents of the bag. He perks up a bit when he finds some onigiri. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “The homeless shelter? It’s nearby I think.”

Homeless-? Hold on. 

“Woah, wait a sec,” he says, setting the bag aside. “You think I’m homeless? That’s why you came over here?”

“Well, yes?” A look of bewilderment crosses your face as you look Kuroo up and down, gesturing at him with an open hand. “I mean, you look-“

“-homeless?” he interjects harshly and then adds sarcastically, “What gave it away?”

You stumble over your words, apologising and trying to explain yourself all in one go. “It’s- it’s your clothes, and the stubble and…”

“And?” he prompts. 

“The hair,” you mumble. “Plus you’re soaked through so I just- I just thought…”

“My hair? Wow, I don’t know if I should be offended or embarrassed,” he says darkly. 

“I’m really sorry,” you insist, taking a seat beside him. “I wasn’t trying to be insensitive at all, I swear! I had no idea. No one else really comes to this park, y’know? So I just thought…”

Kuroo heaves a sigh, shaking his head slightly. You’re so sincere, it’s hard to actually be upset with you. If anything, he should be annoyed with himself for giving you reason to assume such a thing. His lip twitches up the tiniest bit. “Somehow, I do believe that.” He digs into the bag again and pulls out the snack he was reaching for earlier, unwrapping it and taking a large bite. “You were right about one thing, though,” he says around a mouthful of rice. 

“I was?”

“Mhmm. I did need a snack.” 

Your smile is full of relief. Silence settles over the two of you as Kuroo quickly eats his way through the bag, feeling a little less of a wreck than he did before, though he still feels cold. He quietly thanks you for the food once he’s done.

“Come to think of it, you look kinda familiar,” you say, squinting at him through the limp fringe hanging in his eyes. “Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so?” he says slowly.

“Hm. I could’ve sworn I used to go to school with someone who looked just like you,” you murmur.

“Well, maybe. If you went to Nekoma, that is.” He tilts his head at you, scrutinising you right back.

“Fukurodani, actually.”

“Ah, I see,” he says, golden nostalgia dispelling the clouds above his head just a little. 

“Yeah, your face does ring a bell,” you hum. “Why are you sitting out here anyway?” You give him another once over. “It’s been raining all day. Have you seriously been out here all that time?!”

“I guess so,” he shrugs. 

“Why?” You are quite nosy, he thinks to himself. Though, talking to you is making him feel less like he’s going to burst at the seams.

“I- uh. I lost something,” he says vaguely, clicking his teeth. 

Your nose scrunches up at the evasive way he gives his answer and he mentally curses you for being so meddlesome. “Was it really that important that you had to go looking for it on a day like this?”

“Kinda.”

“Really?” you probe. Yep. Nosy.

“Yes, actually,” he sighs, defeated. “It was- well she is my cat.”

“You lost your cat?” 

“I lost my cat.” He huffs out a humourless laugh, a wry smile lifting the corner of his lips crookedly. “And I don’t think I’ll ever see her again.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Because that’s just the sort of luck I have,” Kuroo says, and then quietly adds. “Whenever I love something, it inevitably slips away.”

And it’s true. It’s been the case all his life, ever since he was young.

You make a sympathetic noise in your throat. “And you think the same thing has happened with your cat?”

“It must be.” He lifts his hands out and shrugs. “What other explanation could there be?”

You snicker. “What, you mean besides the universe having it out for you? That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?”

Kuroo, unable to find a real retort, stays quiet.

“If that is the case, then the universe must have it out for other cat owners too. I found a lost kitty just this afternoon.”

His head snaps to attention with almost dizzying speed as he urgently asks, “You did?” He scoots closer all of a sudden, making you jump slightly in surprise. “What did it look like?”

He doesn’t realise that his desperate tone is making you shift a little uncomfortably, until you clear your throat awkwardly and lean away a little. “Ah, shit- I didn’t mean to- I’m sorry.”

Kuroo politely puts a foot of space between you, exhaling slowly to calm himself. “It’s fine,” you assure him. “This whole mess has got you really frazzled, hasn’t it?”

“I guess it has,” he agrees. “So? Can you tell me about the cat you found?”

You give him a brief description and every feature you tell him about slowly lifts his heart out of the abyss it had been descending into. Black fur. White paws. Irresistibly fluffy. “And she has golden eyes.”

“That’s her,” he breathes, feeling his chest loosen in relief. God, his eyes are starting to sting again. “It must be.”

“Well,” you say, standing and tucking your hands back into the pockets of your jacket. “There’s only one way to know for sure.”

Kuroo follows you home, still damp, still cold, but in much better spirits than when he left the apartment in a hurry. Hope blooms unbidden within him with every step he takes, sunny and golden. His skin burns with it, dizzied and breathless with what he can only call excitement. 

It’s funny. Which sane person starts to sweat at the thought of finally finding their pet?

The front door swings open and you invite him inside with a sweep of your arm. “Make yourself at home. I’ll go see where she is.”

Kuroo’s first thought as he shuffles inside after removing his shoes, is how warm your apartment is. It’s cosy, clean and it smells faintly floral. The whole place seems to be unstable though, tilting this way and that. And now it’s spinning around and-

Thud.

When Kuroo stirs, it’s to the sensation of something cold and wet nudging at his cheek. He recoils slightly, groaning as he opens his eyes. He’s met with your worried expression, though he’s more mesmerised by the way the fluorescent lights give you a soft halo. The cold wet thing gives another nuzzle, this time eliciting an indignant meow. 

“Oh, thank god.”

“What the hell happened?” he grumbles, blinking blearily. “Why am I on the floor?”

“You fainted,” you tell him, plucking the cat off him with ease so that he can sit up without his chest being weighed down. 

“I did?”

“Mhm. Passed out right in my doorway. I was just about to call an ambulance but it looks like I might not need to.”

“I’m fine,” he says automatically. You raise an eyebrow at him as he settles back against the stack of cushions you’ve piled up for him. “Really. I’m fine.”

“Does this happen often?” you probe, sitting cross legged at his side.

“No.” Both of your eyebrows bounce up, unconvinced. “I swear. I’m not a fainter. It’s just been a day.”

“Plus the whole getting soaked in the rain thing because you were consumed by angst.”

“Exactly. I feel fi- Hey!”

You shrug, biting back a smile. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

“I was not consumed,” he says hotly. “I’m just-” An impatient meow interrupts your conversation as the source of it hops onto his lap and looks at him with expectant eyes before headbutting his stomach gently. “Honey!” 

Kuroo wastes no time in scooping her up and holding her close to his chest, squeezing her gently and peppering her little face with kisses. He chuckles as she mewls in protest, cooing at her lovingly.  “Ohh, I missed you too, my little lady, don’t you ever run off like that again! You had your daddy worried sick!”

“Mm, quite literally,” you say, grinning at him cheekily when he stops to look at you, mortification spreading across his already flushed cheeks. It’s quite cute.

“I, er, ahem. Thank you for taking care of her,” he says sheepishly, inclining his head. 

“It’s no big deal,” you giggle, reaching out to scratch behind Honey’s ears. She purrs happily, twisting in Kuroo’s hold to expose her belly to the two of you. Your gazes meet for a moment and you share a laugh, indulging her. “She was very well behaved.”

“I’m glad. She can be quite the troublemaker.”

“Maybe because she knows you’ll fold in half the minute she looks at you.”

Kuroo sighs, a tiny pout jutting at his lips. “It’s impossible to stay mad at her. Seriously, though” he says, voice turning earnest, and soft as the fur beneath your palm. “You’ve been a huge help.”

“You’re welcome.”

Honey chirps, apparently bored of the attention you’ve been giving to her. She slips away, tail high in the air. “Guess someone’s ready to go home.”

“Are you sure you are?” you ask, nodding at him. “You got lucky passing out here.”

“Very sure. I can take care of myself,” he says, getting to his feet. Your apartment blurs and spins again, causing him to grasp onto the nearest thing to steady himself - you.

“Careful!” 

He blinks hard to steady his vision. “Woah- maybe I need a minute.”

Clicking your teeth, you guide him over to your couch, letting him collapse onto the cushions with a grunt. Gently, you place the back of your hand on his forehead, humming to yourself. From here, Kuroo finds himself studying your features. The slope of your nose, the softness in your cheeks, the way your brow pinches as you mull something over. And your eyes. There’s a tenderness in them that hasn’t been directed at him in years. It steals his breath away.

“You’re burning up.”

“Your apartment is just warm, okay-”

Your stern glare shuts him up. “It’s a fever. Stay here.”

Kuroo sags into the cushions as you disappear for a few minutes. His head lolls to the side and the clock on your wall tells him that it’s nearing ten o'clock at night. He’s greatly exceeded his welcome. Honey pads in after you when you return, already seeming right at home with you. You hold the device in your hand up to his forehead, as if aiming a gun, pushing the button on it with a little beep.

“See?” you say smugly, showing him the display. Thirty-eight degrees. 

“Okay, fine, it’s a fever,” he relents with a huff. “You’ve proved your point, now what?”

“Well, it’s raining again. And you’re in no condition to go anywhere this late.”

“I can call a taxi,” he argues. 

“You can sleep on my sofa and leave in the morning.” God, you’re really stubborn. And it’s starting to grate on his already frayed nerves.

“Why does it matter to you so much if I’m sick or not? You barely know me!” he says a little harshly. “I could drop dead tomorrow and it wouldn’t make a difference to your life!”

“It doesn’t matter if I ‘barely’ know you, but I know myself and I’m not the type of person to expect someone to leave my home at this hour in the pouring rain, whether they’re sick or not,” you tell him sternly. “It would weigh on my conscience too heavily.”

“And what if I’m the type of person to take advantage of you for being so naive? What then?” Kuroo knows that he would never do such a thing, but you’re being so frustratingly trusting that the words slip out regardless. Your eyebrows spring up in surprise.

“You’ve had the past few hours to do that. And you haven’t.”

“Maybe I’m biding my time.” Dude. Shut. Up.

“You and I both know you’re not that kind of guy.”

“Don’t you care about what might happen?”

“Don’t you?”

He was not expecting you to flip his question on him like that. Kuroo pauses, faltering. His mouth opens to retort, but when no sound comes out, he closes it again. It’s like you’ve cut away at his chest somehow, peeling away all the layers and forcing him to look within at the heart that beats aimlessly.

Your voice softens at the sight of his expression. He looks completely unmoored. “Don’t you care about what might happen to you if you go out there like this? You can barely stand without falling over. You need to rest.”

“That’s a little dramatic.” Kuroo shifts uneasily, not wanting to admit that you’re right. He does feel unsteady, and he does feel like he’s about to start sweating through his clothes. 

“Is it?” 

He sighs, voice growing quiet. “I don’t want to burden you any more than I already have.”

“Well, Kuroo, it’s a good thing you’re not,” you say simply, setting the thermometer aside and turning to leave, only for him to grasp your wrist. “Hey-!”

“You do know me.”

You purse your lips and look down at your feet. “So it would seem,” you murmur. “Though, you won’t remember me.”

“Try me,” he says, watching you chew your lip.

“It was only one training camp. Your last one. I was a first year, getting trained to be one of the next managers for the team.”

Kuroo casts his mind back to that bygone era. He remembers camp. He remembers messing with Bokuto between matches, getting on Kenma’s ass to stop gaming and socialise with the other second years, becoming friends with the other captains and just enjoying his youth. It was a brighter time, one where he thrived off the atmosphere on a court, where the thrill of the game made his blood sing and his heart pound. Back when he felt alive, as if the very world was at his fingertips.

How could he remember anything else in the face of that?

He digs a little deeper, and one small memory resurfaces. Of a girl in a Fukurodani manager's jacket, bumping into him from behind, dropping whatever objects she was carrying. Keeping her head tucked down whilst she scrambled to gather everything back together. Thanking him for his help before scuttling off down the corridor before he could even so much as check if you were okay.

“That was you?” he asks in a quiet voice. 

“Unfortunately,” you laugh softly. “I was very shy back then. Could barely string a sentence together in front of a boy, let alone the captain of a rival team.”

“I didn’t see you at any matches, though?” Kuroo would often go to cheer on his old teammates whenever he got free time during university, and he never missed a match against Fukurodani. Besides being his rivals, they were his good friends too. 

You grimace slightly. “I kinda quit right after that. Volleyball boys were just too rowdy for me.”

“I think your perception might have been skewed by Bokuto,” Kuroo jokes. “Now that guy is huge and loud.”

“Funnily enough, I didn’t feel intimidated by him at all,” you tell him honestly.

Kuroo hums, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully. “But you were intimidated by me?”

Your eyes widen and you laugh nervously, quickly glancing at the clock on the far wall for a quick escape. “Oh, would you look at the time! I should be getting to bed, it’s so late! I’ll see you in the morning!”

But Kuroo’s grip around your wrist remains firm. Gentle, but firm. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“What do you want me to say?” You’re exasperated and flustered, clearly, but he won’t let go. You’re not that shy girl you once were. 

“I want you to give me an answer.”

“Yes, okay, happy?” you huff, feeling your cheeks grow warm as you look down at your feet, unable to meet his gaze. “Of course I was intimidated by you, isn’t it normal for a girl with a crush to feel- ah. Shit.”

“A crush?” That’s interesting. And it would explain a lot about today’s events. “I see. Is that why you helped me today?”

“What?” you ask incredulously, finally yanking your hand away from him. “You think that’s why I helped you? Because I had a crush on you over a decade ago? Kuroo, I helped you because I felt like you needed it! That’s why I’m still trying to help you! I didn’t even know it was you until we started speaking!”

Kuroo is taken aback by your outburst. He wasn’t expecting you to be upset by his words. “Woah, sorry- I just thought-”

“Thought what? All you seem to do is think you know what everyone else is thinking! Maybe if you focused less on what you think other people might need and what you need instead, you might not be the way you are!”

He’s speechless. You’ve actually rendered him speechless. And your words have sliced him right to his core for the second time tonight. But you carry on, carving through to bone and sinew to get to his heart. “I haven’t spent very long in your company, but I can’t imagine anyone wanting to stay around you when you repeatedly push them away.”

A burning sensation builds behind his eyes as he stares at you, the image of your annoyed face blurring over with a film of tears. He sniffles none too discreetly, blinking away the building moisture before it can spill but this time, there’s just too much of it. Somewhere inside him, a dam has splintered and all of the things he’s been keeping locked behind it are starting to slip free. 

He ducks his head to hide his face, hurriedly, swiping his sleeve over his damp cheek but the damage is done. His lashes are wet, his eyes are glossy and he looks like a stray cat that’s been wandering aimlessly in the rain for too long.

Ah, irony.

You don’t say anything. You don’t try to comfort him or backtrack or even apologise for going too far. You just sigh softly and turn on your heel before retreating out of the room. “I’ll get you a blanket.”

Kuroo releases a shuddery breath. His chest and throat are tight with emotion. He feels hot and cold all over and his head is really starting to throb. But worst of all, is how desperately he craves to be held together, the way he’s always done for so many around him. It’s like a physical ache in his body, one that reaches down to his very bones, races to the tips of his trembling fingers. Everything hurts.

And it’s all his fault.

All of it. 

Every single thing, down to the shitty weather that’s been following him around all week is his fucking fault. 

It’s all his-

“Mrrow.” 

Peering through the gaps of his fingers, Honey sits at his feet, fluffy tail swishing slowly as she looks up at him with wide eyes. She chirps again and rubs herself against his legs, almost as if she’s trying to comfort him. He sniffles and scoops her up, cradling her against his chest, letting her warmth calm him. She reaches up, batting his damp cheek gently with her paw. 

“Thanks, Honey,” he murmurs quietly, nuzzling her head. “You’re such a good girl, aren’t you? Always there when I need you. Must be pretty exhausting for you, huh? Having to take care of your daddy like this.”

“You’re lucky to have her,” you say from the doorway. There’s a pile of soft, fluffy blankets in your arms that you dump beside him. A box of medicine and a bottle of water sit on top, along with a few oranges in a bowl. 

Gratitude wells up within him as Kuroo looks from the blankets to Honey, and finally, to you. “I am lucky,” he agrees.

“If you need anything else, my room is two doors down from this one and the bathroom is in between. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Thanks.”

“Oh, and Kuroo?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry. I overstepped.”

Your apology is simple and wholly unnecessary. He shakes his head. “You’re right. I am kind of a mess, aren’t I?”

“You are,” you agree. You reach out to him and he holds his breath when you pause, sure that you’ll withdraw. But there must be something still shining in his eyes, because you cup his cheek lightly and brush away the dampness clinging to his cheek with your thumb. He tries not to lean into your touch, but he does, pathetic as it may be. 

All too soon, you pull away and bid him goodnight, shutting the door behind you as you leave him to rest for the night. He wolfs the oranges down, knocks back a couple of tablets and drains the bottle of water. He pulls his shirt off and sets it aside before tugging the blankets over his body and laying down on the sofa, yawning widely once his head hits the cushions, his cat nestling herself beneath his chin. And within seconds of closing his eyes, he’s deeply asleep.

Morning dawns bright and sunny, finally giving the city a reprieve from the grim weather that has been persisting for the past week. Warm, golden light pours through the cracks between the blinds above the window where Kuroo snores softly, casting stripes across his blanketed body. Honey shuffles and fidgets, the first to stir from slumber, and just like most mornings, she wakes Kuroo by pawing at his face until his nose scrunches from the sensation of her fur tickling him.

He groans softly as he peels his eyes open, squinting in the morning light as he adjusts. A wide yawn escapes him as he unfolds his body from where he’d fit himself onto the couch, stretching his long legs out over the arm rest before letting them hang down. It’s strange. Usually, sleeping on the couch at home makes him feel as if he has the joint problems of someone twenty years older than him, but this morning, he feels more refreshed than ever. The fever seems to have subsided and his head feels clear. Dare he say it, he feels good.

Honey curls up on his chest so that he can pet her, and the two of them lay there contently as the sun climbs higher in the clear sky. 

He should get dressed. Tidy up after himself. Leave you a note to thank you before quietly slipping out. But part of him just doesn’t want to. Being in your company last night was nice, despite his tumultuous emotions spilling out of him in a waterfall. 

It wouldn’t hurt to be just a tiny bit greedy, would it?

The pair doze in and out of sleep, until they’re finally awoken by the soft click of the living room door. Kuroo cracks an eye open, twisting onto his side to see you poking your head in. Honey hops off his stomach to go over and greet you, meowing at you through the gap in the door.

“Am I okay to come in?” you ask him as he sits up, glancing around the room for his shirt.

“Yeah,” he answers, once he finally locates it, slowly pulling it on. You catch a glimpse of his softened stomach and narrow hips as you step into the room, heat creeping up your cheeks.

“I, uh, just wanted to see if you were up.”

“I’m up.” There’s an awkward pause, neither of you knowing what you should say next. Honey decides to meow loudly as she looks between the two of you, and you both crack a smile.

“How’s the fever?”

“Gone, I think. I feel much better,” Kuroo says, running a hand through his hair.

“I’m glad,” you reply softly. Your gaze lingers on him for a moment.

“Sun’s finally out too,” he says. “Guess that means we should get going.”

You watch as he gathers his things and scoops Honey up, cooing at her quietly as you lead him to the front door. He puts his shoes on slowly, almost like he’s taking his time intentionally. Finally, he turns to say goodbye, standing at the threshold of your home. “Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Say bye-bye to the nice lady, Honey,” he says to his cat, raising her paw in a little wave. You giggle, giving her a little scratch between the ears. She squirms in his grip, pushing her head into your palm.

“Aww, looks like she doesn’t wanna leave. Maybe she wants to stay with me,” you joke.

“That makes two of us,” Kuroo says under his breath.

“Hm?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Y’know, you could stay for breakfast if you want,” you suggest casually. “Maybe she’ll be less fussy after she’s eaten.”

Kuroo opens his mouth, about to decline and then closes it again. 

All he’s been doing for the past few years is deny himself. He turns away from the prospect of joy over and over again, convincing himself that it’s for the sake of someone else. He almost gave up on Honey yesterday, too. He’s carefully carved out all the warmest parts of his heart and given them away, piece by piece, until all that’s left is a husk of the man he used to be. 

But for the first time in a long time, he wants to run towards it.

Whatever this is that’s gently sparking in the air between you, he wants it. Be it mere friendship or more. 

This is different to the gentle ray of sunlight that Honey brings. This is more like a seat beside a crackling fire, or a hot bath after a long day. Even as the storm rages on outside, this place feels like refuge.

A haven.

It brings his taut shoulders down, lets him inhale and exhale a full breath. His mind quiets as his heart finally finds its voice again. 

“We’ll stay.”

Decoration: Rafayel and Sylus piss each other off way too often with their decorative taste. Sylus wants everything in black, deep brown, red or gray tones, no sunlight and smooth surfaces. Rafayel craves bright colors, sunlight and fresh air. Decorating one (1) room can take them WEEKS, they just argue in the half-made room endlessly. At the end, it's you, Caleb and Xavier making that place a home :p.

Overall dynamics:

Caleb and Xavier have bonded over a shared passion: hating Lumiere.

Caleb hates him because he always steals too much of your attention! And why did you need so many Lumiere plushies as a child? >:( and Xavier, well, we know the reasons. But maybe, in one of those rare occasions where Xavier (reluctantly) dressed as Lumiere for you, Caleb understood the appeal /wink wink.

Rafayel now has a lot of bodyguards! If you're not available, the next one he's immediately calling is Caleb.

His logic is: Sylus is too annoying and actually puts him in danger when he's supposed to NOT do that, and if he takes him to exhibitions he steals the spotlight. Xavier gets sleepy and sneaks away with him often, which is not entirely bad, but where's the fun in just sleeping? And Zayne... Zayne actually makes him work. 😫

Xavier had mastered the art of teasing Rafayel.

He's always ragebaiting him about the colors of his paintings, the shape of his drawings or any eccentric accessory Raf wears. He gets all pouty and grumpy after successfully falling for Xav's ragebait, who is now obliged to kiss him for forgiveness.

I'll never paint anything for you again! >:C Now, now. I never mentioned it being ugly, it just... looks like chives! :) ... It's SEAWEED 💢💢

His forgiveness ticket if kisses don't work, is taking him to a seafood hot pot place. Xavier is very aware of how bad Raf's eating habits are, so he sneaks some more shrimps of his own (the purest act of love from the one and only, Xavier Shen !!)

Zayne is now responsible for Caleb's health.

He's a bit strict about it, and luckily, Caleb has healthy habits regarding exercise and diet, but he never manifests his pain. Zayne usually comes from behind, hugging him and gently squeezing his shoulders, and a whine never fails to escape from Caleb when Zayne touches the sore, aching point where his flesh and metal collide. Zayne massages him, applies anti-inflammatory cream and scolds him for keeping things from him. Later he'll bring him sweets as an apology if he was too harsh.

Talking about Caleb's arm, Sylus and Xavier are involved in its maintenance and repairs! Sylus does quick fixes and adjustments, Xavier adds new features and is actively looking for ways to return sensibility to his arm.

I almost forgot about it, Zayne is pretty much in charge of every medical appointment and all, but oh man. If Sylus isn't a whole headache about it...

Take your clothes off. Oh. How demanding, doc. Are you that excited? Quit the nonsense, you reek of blood.

Sylus, you're not slick. Wearing dark clothes won't fool the literal surgeon living with you.

Some other headcanons:

If Caleb has trouble sleeping, he usually goes to Zayne's office, where he can also find you, sleeping on the sofa as Zayne types on his computer, working late as usual. Zayne always asks him what happened, no matter if the reason is always "nightmares", he will take a couple of minutes to listen before Caleb curls up against your body, finally finding peace. He'll cover your bodies with a warm blanket until he's done, and will gently wake him up to take you to bed. In the morning, the three of you are all cozy on Zayne's bed. <3

Rafayel will never admit it, but he's happy to have another person to invite to Talia's concerts. He also loves the effort Sylus puts in dressing elegantly for the occasion, getting matching suits or jewelry.

Sylus picks you and Xavier from work every time he's in Linkon. If you had an exhausting mission or a bad day and fell asleep in the car, he'll drive around the city just to let you both rest for a little more before dropping you off. But he takes photos of you, beware of sleeping with your mouths wide open!

Imagine Caleb and Xavier repairing or doing maintenance on Traceback II 🥹. They both know there’s not much they can do for the ship, unfortunately. But seeing the excitement in Caleb’s eyes as he marvels at the magnificence of such a powerful spacecraft, following Xavier through what could be described more as ruins than cabins, asking questions, making use of whatever still works… Now it’s more like a hobby between them, spending their afternoons fixing circuits, soldering parts, fixing engines… It’s a moment where they get along so well that you wouldn’t even want to interrupt them, even though it’s already dark and neither of them has come out of there.