headaches/bad luck

"Did you even bother to check the weather?" Yaku asks, the anger in his voice only halfhearted as he yanks at one of Kuroo's wrists and pulls him down.

In a simple motion he starts to dry the taller boy's hair with a towel, fingers quick but careful. Letting go he frowns as he sees the familiar smile on Kuroo's lips, wanting to kick his shin for not taking this seriously. It's Febuary, for heaven's sake. Kuroo has another exam next weekend and there's the upcoming tournament, too, but none of those things are as important as the fact that Kuroo's still soaking wet, his cheeks flushed and eyes looking tired.

Yaku looks down, pressing a hand against he base of his own neck before he narrows his eyes. He finally tugs at Kuroo's wet clothes and says, sternly, "Take these off, now, idiot. I'll get the bath ready."

Kuroo has the towel pressed to his mouth even though his hair is still damp over his eyes, and looks as though he's thinking intently. Yaku just sighs before he moves to the side, smacking a hand at Kuroo's back so he starts to move in the general direction of the bathroom as Yaku heads to the washer and dryer to get the water running.

Kuroo does without so much as a complaint, and a sinking feeling finds it's way into Yaku's stomach as he watches the way that Kuroo walks to the bathroom. Where Kuroo's usually only smooth strides and easy motions, he's moving jerkier than usual. Showing up unannounced isn't that much of a surprise, but there's the fact that Kuroo hasn't even given one unnecessary remark. Yaku's grateful that his mother's taken his younger siblings to his aunt's for the weekend, and tries not to overthink exactly why Kuroo came here rather than Kenma's, when his house was so much closer.

Feeling as if he was the one that's drenched, Yaku shakes the feeling off before heading to the bathroom. He makes relatively quick work of setting the bath up while Kuroo gets undressed behind him, making sure the water's just as hot as Kuroo likes it. There's a hand on his shoulder and Yaku feels the familiar squeeze that Kuroo gives when he's being far too sentimental.

"Thanks," Kuroo says, before he steps into the water and lets out a pleased hiss. It doesn't take long for him to sink in, and normally Yaku would've excused himself immediately but there's still an uneasy feeling lingering.

Yaku takes a good look at Kuroo, notices the familiar bruises from practice that he carries, too. Beyond that Kuroo looks tired down to the bones, the area underneath his eyes darker than usual as he stretches out in the tub as much as he can for how tall he is. His eyes linger.

There's few quiet moments before Yaku finally says, "Is sanma fine? I don't have any mackerel."

Kuroo opens his eyes, lifting his neck and meeting Yaku's gaze. The smile he gives is beautiful in the same way as it's delicate, and maybe shows how broken the boy who's giving is underneath.

"I'm glad you didn't ask."

Even if it doesn't take long for Yaku to finish making the food, by the time he brings it to the living room Kuroo is asleep on the sofa. He's wrapped tightly in a blanket and face down against the cushions, holding the other side of his head with a pillow, his long legs dangling off the side. His blue jeans that Yaku had put in the dryer are tossed on one of the chairs, meaning that he's just in his boxers, but considering that Yaku's in his own pajamas he doesn't exactly mind.

Sighing, Yaku sets the plates down on the table before sitting beside the sofa. He reaches a hand forward to press at Kuroo's forehead gently, moving the still damp hair from his face and smiling in spite of himself.

"You still didn't dry it properly," he mutters, tucking a lock behind Kuroo's ear carefully.

When he notices that Kuroo's eyes are now open he feels his face get hot, and is about to say something—that Kuroo should learn how to take better care of himself, that the food will get cold if he doesn't hurry up and eat it, anything to break this awkwardness—but Kuroo stops him by pressing a kiss to Yaku's forehead. This alone is enough for Yaku to start sputtering, unable to get words out as Kuroo sits up with a yawn and a stretch. He slinks down to the ground and sits beside Yaku at the table, his eyes lighting up as he sees the food.

Uttering a quick 'itadakimasu,' Kuroo smiles brightly at Yaku before he starts to down his miso soup. They eat in relative silence, Yaku even grabbing his phone out of his pocket and playing an audiobook he's trying to finish in one earbud. It's strange, Yaku thinks, how different Kuroo can be when there's other people around and how unguarded he is here. He doesn't have to put on the persona that he normally uses, and the thought makes Yaku's chest tighten slightly as he moves his stirfry around on his plate with his chopsticks.

They eat in relative silence and it isn't uncomfortable, really, having Kuroo's thigh touching his and occasionally their hands bumping, even if there's no reason for them to be so close. Yaku knows Kuroo's like this. He likes intimacy and he's gotten used to it over the years they've known each other, so it isn't as strange anymore.

"Same book you were listening to before?" Kuroo asks as he's almost done with his plate, pointing to the headphones and reaching for the bud that Yaku doesn't have put in. He has to scoot closer before he can manage to get it in, and even then Yaku's shaking his head because he knows Kuroo's read the book.

"Finish your food," Yaku says, without any mirth behind it and only a shake of his shoulder to prove he's annoyed. Because apparently that's where Kuroo's decided he wants to lie his head, hair still barely damp and jaw moving slightly as he chews but face pressed against it all the same as they listen to the book.

Kuroo does the dishes without being asked and tells Yaku that he's the best wife ever, so Yaku takes it as a sign that he's feeling a bit better, maybe. Then when Yaku tells him he's spending the night and Kuroo freezes for a moment, almost as if he'd been scared of anything else, he really wonders if Kuroo's doing better or just trying to seem like he's doing better.

"Come on," Yaku says, grabbing at Kuroo's hand and dragging him back to the restroom. He offers him a new toothbrush and stands there expectantly with his own, waiting for Kuroo to start brushing before Kuroo laughs a bit.

The toothbrush is hanging out of the side of his mouth when he says, "If you're going to be so insistent you could always brush them for me."

"You might like it. Then I'd have to do it all the time," Yaku says, before sticking his own brush in and ignoring whatever heat is coming to his cheeks. They won't really have many more nights like these, depending on college acceptances. He pushes the thought out of his mind and then he opens his eyes just to see Kuroo finishing his brushing at an almost alarming pace.

"Hurry up, hurry up," he says, rubbing Yaku's shoulders and putting his chin on Yaku's head which always, without fail, gets him an elbow to his gut. This time is no exception. Except Kuroo's laughing and he looks strangely happy for the first time tonight and something in Yaku's chest turns, and he does hurry up and finish brushing his teeth.

"What," he grits out, turning to face Kuroo and still tasting the mint on his tongue.

When Kuroo leans down, Yaku thinks he's imagining it. There's been a few times when he's imagined it, and then it hasn't happened because they're friends and whoever Kuroo was with was not him, but this time he isn't. Because he can taste even more mint and feel the warmth of Kuroo's lips and Kuroo has his fingers placed at the base of Yaku's nape, drumming softly. His other hand is holding onto the side of Yaku's face and it takes a moment to realize that this isn't his imagination, and this isn't a dream. This is very real and happening right now.

He should push him away, probably. For a couple of reasons, but he isn't as strong as he pretends he is, and maybe the two of them have that in common. So Yaku lets himself melt into the kiss, the kiss that's unlike any other kiss he's had and feels like the exact opposite of the rain outside, where everything feels warm and yes, yes. Kuroo knows how to kiss, but Yaku isn't an amateur, either. When they finally break apart Yaku bites at Kuroo's bottom lip, hard. The two of them are panting just a little and he's sure that he can see a blush despite the color of Kuroo's skin. It makes a jolt of pride go through his chest, even though he wishes it wouldn't.

Then he kicks Kuroo's shin.

"Fuck," Kuroo says, jumping slightly and looking for all the world more like a puppy wanting to know what he did wrong rather than the cat he is. His face returns to normal and almost frowns when he realizes his mistake.

Yaku's face is colored with anger in addition to whatever the kiss gave him. "I'm not a rebound," he says, voice dark as he crosses his arms. "I'm not just here for you to have whenever you want, you know that, right?"

"Of course I know that," Kuroo says, and even if his voice is soft, serious, his eyes look a little pained. It's enough to make Yaku uncross his arms and sigh, stepping forward, mumbling a sorry underneath his breath and nodding to the shin to make it clear that the sorry was only about that.

Kuroo puts his hand over his mouth for a moment, and then taps his fingers against his lips before he looks like he decides on something. When he finally picks up Yaku and carries him out of the bathroom, arms hooked underneath Yaku's knees and neck, Yaku curses and wiggles until Kuroo pulls him closer and says, "Stop that."

Yaku does, albeit slowly. He still is struggling slightly even as they make their way to his bedroom, a path Kuroo knows well. When Kuroo drops him on the bed he scowls and is jostled quickly by having the other boy jump on the bed right bed to him, too large and too much and fitting right into a spot in Yaku's heart he didn't want to admit existed.

"I wanted to kiss you right then but you would've gotten mad at me if I kissed you with toothpaste in our mouths," Kuroo says, pressing his nose against Yaku's and pressing himself closer. It should be cold, really, with the month and the weather but Yaku just feels warm and he sighs, letting himself press closer too, his hand against Kuroo's chest.

"No shit, what a shitty first kiss," he says, rolling his eyes.

He's the one that initiates the kiss then, and it's cautious. They're friends and more and they still need to talk, but this is something they both want. It's obvious by the way Yaku curls his fingers into Kuroo's shirt, and yanks at it. To the way that Kuroo curls himself around Yaku like he doesn't want to let go, his lips moving with purpose, and then when the kiss deepens it only makes Yaku let out a noise that's lost somewhere and caught into Kuroo's mouth. He doesn't mind.

Kuroo pulls away softly, and peppers small kisses on Yaku. The corner of his lips, the side of his face, even his closed eyelid and his eye brow, his ear, all while his hand is steady and burning on the bare skin of Yaku's hip where his shirt has ridden up. Yaku's heart feels like a humming bird and at the same time all it takes is a touch from the boy beside him to be the camera shutter to stop its lightening fast movements and keep them frozen, if only for a moment.

"Why'd you want to kiss me?" Yaku says, because he's feeling a little disoriented. It's not that this is too fast or too much, because he wants it, his own ankle wrapped around Kuroo's leg and chest pressed against his friend's.

Kuroo stops for a moment and his voice is a little softer, fingers moving back and forth on Yaku's hipbone when he says, "You said you'd brush my teeth all the time. And I thought I wanted that. Not just nights like tonight, but. All the time, with you. You know?"

Maybe it's the sincerity in it that he wasn't expecting, or the way Kuroo's so close and looking up at Yaku from underneath his long eyelashes as if he's nervous, but Yaku feels himself tinge slightly. "You're such an idiot," he says automatically, biting his bottom lip and his heart pulling.

"I could be your idiot, all the time" Kuroo says with a laugh, and going to kiss Yaku's neck. It leads to about five minutes of flat out kicking and pushing and kissing and hair pulling and it's half hot half annoying as hell, and ends with both of them laughing and with Kuroo flat on his back, Yaku lying down on top of him with the taller boy's wrists pinned, victorious.

"I win," he says, trying to catch his breath and Kuroo just has a lazy smirk as he moves his hips, only clad in boxers, upwards, and well, yes. That's a thing now too, Yaku supposes.

Kuroo fake struggles a bit before he finally says, "Oh yeah? I guess you did."

"So I'll be taking my prize now," Yaku says, his voice still in the same stern manner he'd use at practice with any of the kohai. When he leans forward lets go of Kuroo's wrists only to put his palm on Kuroo's chest, they both still for a moment, and then they meet each other's eyes. There's a nervous electricity in between the both of them, and Yaku takes from it to continue on, licking his lips.

"My prize," he says, putting all the weight he can on Kuroo's heart. "I won't let anyone take it from me without a fight, Tetusurou. That includes you."

Kuroo's breathing looks shallow for a moment, and Yaku thinks his eyes look a little glassy but he's smiling, and in the next moment he has his arms around Yaku and he's crushing him with all his strength.

"You're..." Kuroo starts, but Yaku pulls away just slightly and pinches his nose, sighing tiredly.

"We need to get some rest, and knowing you, you want to kiss some more..." Yaku says, shimmying out of bed and going to get some extra pillows for Kuroo's bad sleeping habit and an extra comforter, just in case. When Kuroo reaches out after him he sticks out his tongue, "Don't be a baby."