You didn’t mean to. You really really didn’t mean to. But with how your boss moved around the shop, so easily giving orders and running things seamlessly, with his larger than life presence… you really couldn’t help the crush you developed on him.

He loomed around the store, ever present and inexplicably inescapable. You could barely even speak to him. Stuttering, tripping, constantly messing up under his eyes. He made you entirely overly nervous. You felt small under his gaze. And that made you feel-well…you weren’t sure.

You couldn’t even talk to him. Nearly four months of working with him. Stolen glances at him when his back was turned. Small squeaks and skittering away whenever he entered a room that you were chatting with a coworker in.

All your coworkers knew about your crush. All your coworkers teased you about it on the low. Raised eyebrows and kissy faces, fanning and fake swooning from behind your back when Osamu was speaking to you. Acting normal when he turned to see what you were looking over his shoulder at, returning themselves to their normal tasks.

As far as Osamu knew, you were his quietest employee. Or… that’s what you thought. Right up until this moment.

It was the first time you had been stuck on the closing shift with him. Just him. No one else. And it had gone about as terribly as you had thought it would… you could barely speak all night and had almost messed up the till, something he had so graciously caught and assured you that “s’no big deal, easy fix.”

The doors, however, had locked a mere 30 minutes ago. You’d been only 15 minutes into the closing routine when he’d cornered you against the counter, preempting his accusations with “ya can tell me t’go away an’ I’ll listen.”

You’d brought deer in the headlights to a whole new visual right now. Eyes wide. Frozen in place. Legs shaking. Watching the impending car crash, that was no doubt going to happen at the end of this interaction, unable to look away. It would take both of you down. You almost didn’t care.

Osamu’s hands caged you against the counter, your body shrinking under the shadow of his. “Know yer not quiet.” He mumbled, lips brushing against your ear as he leaned to it, the broadness of him seeming to engulf your frame. “I’ve heard ya talk wi’the other workers. Heard ya chattin’ bout those thoughts o’yers.”

You whimpered softly, embarrassment making its home in your gut and spreading its roots up into your lungs. You choked on your own air when you realized his lips were so close to your skin that you could feel him smirk against you. Feel his breath coat your skin, cooling the area that was certainly burning from your shame.

“I-I-I didn’t-” You couldn’t help but moan quietly when his teeth nipped at your ear. You bit your lip quickly to muffle it and he chuckled a bit. “I didn’t mean to cause trouble.”

“S’okay baby.” He leaned back to his full height, smiling down at you and you only felt yourself shrink more under his gaze. “S’cute how nervous I make ya.” His fingers brushed along your jaw, tilting it slightly so you looked up to him as he leaned his body more over yours, trapping you further against the counter. You could feel the cold of the surface cut through your shirt and you were sure your whole body was shaking. “Y’gon’ be good fer me baby?”

His hand helped nod your head up and down as you continued to look at him in… shock? awe? disbelief? You weren’t even sure. You were sure, however, that your head was short-circuiting. Words caught on your tongue as your eyes fluttered, hands gripping onto the counter, right on the inside of his.

You felt small under him. You could smell his sweat from this close, the lingering scent of the ingredients he’d been working his all day, sticking to his shirt and skin. It made you feel like a caged-in animal. A shudder ran down your spine when his hand pressed into your hip, dragging up the side of your shirt, exposing your skin to him.

“Tell me ya want me t’stop.” He muttered. He’d lowered his face to yours. His eyes flicking between yours from their closeness-another thing to cause you to shake. You could feel air from the movements of his lips and you did the only brave thing you’ve ever done in front of him… you tilted your lips to meet his.

It was like that one small movement trampled all the walls he’d built around the two of you. He let out a soft growl when he pulled you into him, his body swallowing yours, deepening the kiss and consuming you. You sure felt like the lamb caught, shrinking in between the wolf’s teeth.

His hands grasped at your clothing, shirt lifting from your body easily. Lips leaving yours to completely rid you of the fabric. Your eyes nervously flitted to the closed shades of the shop window, the sign hanging in the door that was signaling the status of the shop. He took the moment to kiss along your neck, pressing down to the column of your throat. “Don’t worry yer pre’y li’l head ‘bout it.” He lifted you easily onto the counter, elevating you but still, the way he kept his body so close to yours, hovering over you—caging you in… how easily he moved you only seemed to make you feel even smaller.

Your hands gripped the table, the only thing you had to hold on to reality. The edge of the counter digging into your palms to remind you that this was not-in fact-a dream. That Osamu’s hands were currently tugging on the button of your pants, his teeth nipping at your skin, pulling gasps from you. Tiny things. Soft and quiet.

“C’mon baby,” he groaned and you listened to the zipper of your pants being pulled, “I know ya can be louder than that.” One of his hands gripped your hip, drawing you closer towards the edge. His other hand seemed disappeared from your body, dropping to his own zipper. You tried to sneak a peak but his hand left your hip and tilted your head back to look at him. “No need t’play shy ‘ny more.”

You gasped loudly as he dropped you back to the ground and flipped you around quickly. The cold of your counter against your torso confused your body in comparison to the heat coming off from his torso as it pinned itself to you. “Mi-Miya-San.” You whimpered as felt his hands tug down your pants.

“No, no, no don’t call me that.” His voice vibrated through your body and you felt his fingers trace along the inside of your thighs. His knee nudged them apart, making enough room for him to slot himself between them. “C’mon baby, tell me ya want me.”

You felt your toes lift off the ground a bit, you felt small under him, everything about him bigger than life. “O-Osa-Osamu…” Your breath hitched in a whimper when he groaned in response to your lips forming his name.

He lifted his body from yours for just a moment, leaning back to see what he was doing. You tried to lift off the counter as well, but one of his hands pinned you back down by the neck, his palm engulfing the space. “Now, wanna hear ya say it louder.”

You could feel his tip parting your folds, coating itself in the wetness that had collected there. A soft moan started, only to be interrupted by a sharp cry when he pushed his way inside you. You couldn’t help but cry out his name again as he stretched you out, your eyes slamming shut.

“Too big for you baby?” He asked, sympathy dripping from his voice as he leaned his body back over yours. You couldn’t form a proper response, your head nodding frantically, ignoring the scrape of the counter on your cheek with each movement. Your words were lodged in your throat. Stuck. Him leaning over you only increased the amount of his cock split you apart, sliding deeper as his body pinned you to the counter. “Yeah? Good.” He groaned in satisfaction. “Now le’me hear you get loud just for me.”

you need to find a hobby or something, tetsurou. you send. and preferably one that doesn't involve tinder.

i have hobbies!

non-sexual ones?

he types for a while before a short, little totally! pops up on his side of the conversation.

and you hate that this is the part of him that’s most intriguing. the unintentional charm, too weird for his own good part that keeps you texting him at four in the morning.

yeah, you send, quicker than you intended. totally.

and suddenly, you're really considering something you shouldn't. before tonight, you hadn't heard from in a while—at least not enough to be thinking about him. you'd resigned yourself to your little, single life and you figured boyfriends might be more harm than they're worth (at least for a while, anyway), but now you have a new little do you wanna come over? typed out into your messaging app, finger hovering over the send button.

you take a minute, trying to rationalize.

the responsible part of you thinks it's way too late to be asking for anything good. you have class in the morning, and you're all tucked into bed, and bringing him here would really stir up some old feelings you weren't looking to bring back right now.

the other part of you—the more fun of the two, you'll admit—knows that you're thinking about him and he's... definitely thinking of you, so what's the harm in indulging a little bit? maybe nothing would happen anyway and you'd just end up staring at each other for a while, but sitting in your bed alone, staring doesn't sound like the worst thing in the world.

you send the text.

there's radio silence for a moment, and you think you might have just fucked the whole we can be exes and friends! thing up, but after a moment or two, he replies.

really?

and you sigh, don't make me change my mind.

he sends an immediate be there in 10, and you flop yourself back into the pillows.

now, okay, you'd be lying if you said you haven't been in this situation before. you and kuroo have always had a strange habit of—gravitating towards each other, to put it politely. it doesn't matter how many times you guys swear each other off, there's always going to be a party, or a text, or a run-in at the grocery store that brings you together (in more ways than one).

the whole i just moaned your name thing, though, that one's new.

your eyes flicker up to the ceiling, then down to your feet, and then, finally, your phone—the reality of this whole thing sinking in a little.

are you supposed to—shave your legs for this? put on your good pajamas: the ones that ride up a little when you bend over? is that where this is going? you're pretty sure it is, but every time this has happened before, it's been a little more spontaneous than this. right now, you have time to prepare and time to think, which you're now realizing is something you really did not want.

you sit there for a minute, coming to the conclusion that this is kuroo. you dated for two years, and you shared a bed at night for more of that time than you'd care to admit, so what does it matter how prepared you are?

you hear a key turn in the front door (the one from under the mat; you took away his actual key you think) and, all of a sudden, you're kind of nervous.

you haven't felt this way in a while, especially when it comes to him. you think you might hate it.

nevertheless, your feet hit the floor and you let yourself pad your way into the entryway, just in time to see someone sliding his shoes into the gap between the doorway and the wall.

you flick the light on, and he jumps a little.

a beat of silence, and then, "hi."

that's all you can come up with right now, truly, and you blame half of it on the time and the other half on the fact that kuroo looks like that.

he's always been pretty, no doubt about that, but right now he looks a little beat up in a way that you have to admit you're kind of into.

his hair's messed up: half of it shifted more left than right, with a little curl to it that he doesn't normally have. his cheeks are red, and he's a sort of out of breath and—did he run here?

"hi," he says, smiling, heaving out a breath.

(oh, he totally did. maybe you're a little more alluring than you thought).

you chuckle out one more, final hi, before he steps towards you.

he smells good—not that that's something you focus on, obviously—but he's still wearing that cologne you bought him last christmas and there's a little tinge of sweat to him that suits him so much better than you'd think.

he has a t-shirt on—one you got from a concert a couple years ago; you can't remember exactly when anymore, but it's clear that the thing has gotten its wear. the hole in the left shoulder is glaring at you from here and you kind of want to poke it.

"i have your key, by the way," he says then, dangling the little thing between his fingers. "did you ask for it back?"

oops.

"i—meant to." you snatch it from him, tossing it onto one of the side tables. "definitely meant to."

his hand lingers there for a second, a big, toothy smile spread across his face. "oh, sure you did."

and you eye him, a short what's that supposed to mean? rolling out of your lips.

he shakes his head, moving closer again—so much so that you can feel the cast of his breath along your cheeks.

"you still like me," he says, and you swear you can see his vocal cords bob in his throat.

"pardon?"

"you think i'm fun—and endearing, and still worthy of a housekey."

"i think you're nuts." you say, fluttering your lashes a little. "and really not in the position to be making these accusations."

"you really think so?" he leans in one more time, close enough that his lips brush that arch between your jaw and your neck. "go ahead—tell me all about how crazy i am."

you feel something inside you quiver.

this right here, this is the whole game between the two of you. some sick little cat-and-mouse thing that always leads to something that you regret in the morning and—inevitably—repeat next week.

truthfully, though, you're getting kind of sick of fighting it.

"god, i can't stand you." you back away, edging towards the hallway that leads to your room. "are you coming with me or what?"

and he grins, because of course he is.