Summary: Their friends finding out that they’re whipped.
Warnings: fluff, crack, indirect mention of Intercourse(Kenma) and some flustered boys.
Characters: Kenma Kozume, Kuroo Tetsurō, Yaku Morisuke, Lev Haiba.
A/N: I suck at writing smut (´；ω；`).
Practice had ended twenty minutes ago, but the sound of volleyballs and laughter still echoed faintly through Nekoma’s gym. Most of the team lingered—stretching, chatting, and unwinding after drills that had nearly flattened Lev (again).
Kenma sat cross-legged on the bench, Switch in hand, earbuds dangling but not plugged in. He wasn’t really playing—just...existing. That was usually enough to keep everyone from bothering him. Usually.
Unfortunately, today was not one of those days.
Kuroo Tetsurō, self-proclaimed “responsible captain” and professional chaos generator, noticed something immediately.Kenma was smiling.
Not his usual polite half-smile or the tiny lift of his mouth when Lev tripped over his own feet—this one was subtle but different. Softer. The kind of smile you didn’t get from beating a boss in a game.
Kuroo’s instincts tingled.
He leaned an elbow on the bench beside Kenma, his grin practically glowing with mischief.“You look…happy,” he said.
Kenma blinked. “I’m always happy.”
Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “Kenma. You’re literally never happy.”Yaku, who was tying his shoes nearby, snorted. “If Kenma’s smiling, it means something’s up.”
Lev’s head popped up instantly. “Wait, what’s up? Did something happen? Did Kenma-san beat me at something again?”
“You lose to him every day, Lev,” Inuoka laughed.
Kenma kept staring at his console, pretending to be too invested to answer, but the slight flush creeping up his neck betrayed him.
Kuroo noticed immediately.
“Ohhh, no way,” Kuroo said, dragging the words out like a cat playing with its food. “Kenma, you’ve got that I-did-something-I-don’t-want-anyone-to-know-about face.”
“Mm-hm. So what were you doing Sunday?”
Kenma froze. The pause lasted exactly half a second too long.
And that was all it took.
“HE WAS DOING SOMETHING!” Lev yelled, pointing dramatically like he’d solved a crime.
Kenma groaned. “I was… out.”
“Out where?” Yaku pressed, smiling in that older-brother-who-knows-too-much way.
Kenma’s eyes darted toward his bag, as if he could hide inside it. “Just out.”Kuroo leaned back, smirk stretching ear to ear. “Out… with anyone we know?”
Lev gasped. “He didn’t deny it!”
At this point, the whole team was paying attention. Even Kai, ever the responsible vice-captain, was smiling behind his towel.
Kenma’s grip on his Switch tightened. “You’re all annoying.”
Kuroo chuckled. “C’mon, we’re just happy for you. You, our little homebody, actually went outside for something other than volleyball or game releases. That’s character development.”
“It’s none of your business,” Kenma muttered.
“Oh, I think it’s exactly my business,” Kuroo said with fake seriousness. “As your best friend, I deserve to know what—or who—put that look on your face.”
Kenma’s cheeks turned pink. He opened his mouth, closed it again, and finally mumbled, “You’re unbearable.”
That was basically an admission.
The entire gym erupted. Lev was confused as hell. Yaku was practically wheezing. Even Kai’s shoulders shook with laughter.
“Kenma-san! I can’t believe you’re blushing!” Lev crowed.
“You are! It’s like—bright pink!”
Kenma tugged his hoodie up, hiding half his face. “I hate all of you.”
“Aw, don’t be shy,” Kuroo teased, still grinning. “We’re just proud. Our quiet little setter, finally—”
“Kuroo,” Kenma interrupted flatly, “if you finish that sentence, I’m deleting your save file.”
That shut him up.For three seconds.
Then Kuroo laughed so hard he nearly dropped his towel.“Fine, fine,” he said. “I’ll stop. But man, you should see your face right now.”
Kenma sighed, half-exasperated, half-smiling despite himself. He tucked his Switch away and stood, muttering something about catching the train home.
As he passed Kuroo, the captain couldn’t resist one last jab.
Kenma paused, wary. “What.”
Kenma didn’t even dignify that with a response. He just walked out—hoodie up, face warm, and the faintest grin tugging at his lips.Behind him, the team’s laughter filled the gym—loud, teasing, familiar.
And though he’d never admit it, Kenma didn’t really mind.
Kenma’s apartment smelled faintly of cup noodles and instant curry—the usual scent of a Nekoma hangout.
The living room was cluttered but cozy; wires, controllers, and empty snack wrappers lined the coffee table like trophies of survival.
Kuroo had claimed his usual spot on the floor, back against the couch, a satisfied grin tugging at his mouth as he stretched his long legs out. Yaku sat cross-legged opposite him, scrolling on his phone, while Lev and Inuoka were arguing over who cheated in Mario Kart.
Kenma sat quietly by the TV, unbothered, his Switch in hand—the eye of the storm, as always.
The air was lazy, familiar.
Then Yaku, with the precision of a libero reading a spike, dropped the question that changed everything.“So, Kuroo,” Yaku said casually, not looking up from his phone. “Who’s the girl you were walking home with yesterday?”
Lev’s head whipped around so fast he almost knocked over a soda can. Kenma actually paused his game. Inuoka looked scandalized.
Kuroo blinked once, twice, then gave that trademark, half-lidded smirk.“Oh? You following me now, Yakkun?”
“Don’t change the subject.” Yaku grinned like a cat about to sink its claws in. “You were with someone. [Hair-colour] hair, right? Cute. Didn’t look like just a friend.”
Kuroo exhaled through his nose, playing it cool—classic captain behavior. “Maybe I’m just expanding my social circle.”
“‘Social circle,’ he says,” Lev laughed, nearly choking on chips. “That’s what people say when they’re totally dating someone!”Kenma, from the corner, muttered, “So that’s why you were late to practice this morning.”
“Et tu, Kenma?” Kuroo turned toward him, mock-betrayed.Kenma shrugged without looking up. “You were smiling at your phone. It was weird.”
Kuroo’s grin faltered for half a second—long enough for the entire team to notice.“Wait, smiling at your phone?” Inuoka gasped, eyes wide. “You never even answer my texts!”
Yaku leaned forward, grinning. “He was definitely texting her.”
“Was it that person from the last day that you gave lunch to?” Kenma inquired.
The second Kuroo froze, the room’s collective chaos instinct activated.
“Lunch too?!” Yaku yelled, practically leaping off the couch. “Oh, he’s gone soft! Our fearless captain is in love!”
Lev gasped like a drama actor. “Wait—was it homemade?!”
Kuroo sighed. “You people are insufferable.”
“That means yes!” Lev cried triumphantly, spinning to high-five Inuoka.
Kenma, eyes still glued to his Switch, murmured, “He brought it in a fancy box, too.”
That did it. The entire room howled. Yaku dropped backward onto the carpet, cackling. Lev was clutching his stomach. Inuoka looked genuinely impressed.
“Fancy box?” Yaku wheezed. “Kuroo! You’re not just dating, you’re whipped!”
Kuroo pinched the bridge of his nose, trying and failing to look composed. “It was food, Yakkun. People eat food.”
“People don’t smile like that over food,” Kenma said simply.
Kuroo’s composure cracked—just a little. His grin twitched. “I smiled because it was good food.”
“Sure,” Yaku said, voice dripping with mock sympathy. “And I only smile at my protein shakes then.” Lev practically fell over. “Oh no, he’s red! Look, Yaku, he’s blushing!”
“I’m not blushing,” Kuroo muttered, ears visibly pink. Kenma tilted his head, pretending to think. “Your face gets that color when you’re flustered. Or when you get a text from her.”
That was it. The room exploded again.
Kuroo groaned, covering his face with a pillow. “You’re all children.”Yaku grinned wickedly. “And yet, here you are, hiding behind a pillow like one.”
Kenma finally looked up from his console, his voice as calm as ever. “If you didn’t want them to notice, you shouldn’t have kept smiling at your phone.”
Kuroo peeked over the pillow, meeting Kenma’s unbothered gaze. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”
Kenma shrugged. “You started this.”Lev gasped dramatically again. “Wait—you started it?! What did you do?”
Kuroo smirked weakly, pushing himself upright. “I made the mistake of having friends, apparently.”
“Friends?” Yaku repeated, incredulous. “You mean girlfriend.”
That word landed like a serve—everyone turned toward Kuroo, waiting for a denial.
“Maybe,” he said, lips quirking.
It wasn’t confirmation, but it wasn’t denial either—and that was enough to set off another wave of laughter.
“Maybe?!” Yaku shouted. “That’s worse than admitting it!”
Kenma just smirked faintly, turning back to his Switch. “He’s flustered. Leave him alone before he short-circuits.”
Kuroo threw a cushion at him—it bounced harmlessly off Kenma’s shoulder. “Alright, alright,” Kuroo said, laughing now, too. “You win. Happy?”
Yaku grinned. “Ecstatic.”
Lev gave him a thumbs-up. “We just wanted to see you blush, Captain!”
Kuroo’s grin softened, a little sheepish but genuine. “You guys are the worst.”
Kenma, deadpan as ever, said, “We’re Nekoma.”
That earned a round of agreement—and laughter that lingered long after the teasing died down.
Later that night, as the team left one by one, Kuroo lingered by the window, phone buzzing in his pocket.
He checked the message, saw your name light up the screen—and that quiet, unguarded smile returned.
“Yeah,” he murmured to himself, “definitely the worst.”
But his grin said he didn’t mind one bit.
The locker room after a match was always loud—the kind of loud that only a Nekoma victory could cause.
Kuroo was leaning against a bench, towel slung over his shoulder, grinning at the noise around him.
Lev was bragging about almost getting an ace, Kenma was half-listening with a deadpan stare, and Yaku…well, Yaku was being suspiciously quiet.
That alone was cause for alarm.
Kuroo noticed it first. “Oi, Yakkun. You’re not yelling at Lev for once. Did you hit your head?”
Lev perked up immediately. “Wait, he didn’t even yell when I missed that block earlier!”
Kenma glanced up. “That’s true. He just sighed. It was unsettling.”
Yaku looked up from his phone, frowning. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Kuroo smirked. “It means you’ve been… calmer lately. Kinder. Softer. Almost like—”
“Don’t say it,” Yaku warned.
“—someone in love,” Kuroo finished with a grin.
Lev gasped so hard he dropped his water bottle. “Yaku-san’s in love?!”
“I’m not—!” Yaku started, but it was too late.
“Ohhh, that explains it!” Inuoka laughed. “He’s been smiling more!”
“Wait, wait,” Lev said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Who is she?!”
Kenma, of course, didn’t even look up. “Probably the person who brought him those snacks last week.”
Kuroo’s grin widened. “Snacks?”
Kenma blinked, pretending to be innocent. “You told me not to tell anyone.”
“Then why did you—ugh!” Yaku buried his face in his hands.
Kuroo was already cackling. “Yaku, you’ve been hiding snacks from us? From me?”
“They weren’t for you!” Yaku snapped, face burning. Lev gasped dramatically again. “So they were from her!”
Yaku glared daggers at him. “Lev, if you don’t shut up—”
Kuroo cut in, smirking. “Was it a ‘thanks for helping me’ kind of snack, or a ‘I like you’ kind of snack?”
“I will end you,” Yaku muttered.
“‘I like you,’” Kenma said flatly.
That set off another explosion of laughter.
“Kenma!” Yaku shouted, mortified.
Kenma shrugged. “You blushed when you opened the box.”
“You did,” Kenma said. “Your ears turned red.”
Lev pointed dramatically. “They’re turning red right now!”
“BECAUSE YOU’RE ALL ANNOYING!”
Kuroo was laughing so hard he had to sit down. “Oh man, this is better than I expected.”
Yaku tried to storm out, but Kuroo caught his shoulder. “Come on, don’t be mad. We’re happy for you.”
Yaku hesitated, grumbling. “You’re not happy for me, you’re enjoying my suffering.”
“Both can be true,” Kuroo said cheerfully. Kenma, still playing, added, “You should thank her. You’ve been less scary lately.”
Yaku groaned, running a hand through his hair. “You guys are impossible.”
Kuroo leaned closer, teasing but softer now. “Seriously, though. She’s good for you. You smile more.”
That earned him a glare that didn’t quite stick. “…You’re imagining things.”
“Maybe,” Kuroo said, still smiling. “But if she makes our libero a little happier, I’ll take it.”
Yaku’s expression softened—barely—before he grabbed his bag and muttered, “You all talk too much.”
As he left, Lev whispered loudly, “He didn’t deny it that time!”
Kuroo grinned. “Heh progress.”
Kenma smirked faintly. “He’s blushing.”
“I’M NOT!” Yaku’s voice echoed down the hallway—followed by the door slamming shut.
The whole team burst out laughing.
Later, when the gym finally quieted, Kuroo walked past the bench and noticed Yaku’s phone left behind, lighting up with a text.
The name on the screen was yours.
Kuroo smiled, shaking his head. “Yeah, he’s doomed.”
The sound of sneakers squeaking and volleyballs bouncing had finally faded from Nekoma’s gym. The team lingered as always, cooling down, chattering, stretching—or in Kenma’s case, quietly existing in a corner with his Switch.
Lev, however, was on another planet.
He was sprawled across the floor, grinning so wide it looked painful, humming something tuneless under his breath. Every few seconds he giggled. Actually giggled.
Kuroo, towel around his neck, squinted down at him. “Alright, Haiba. What’s with the face?”
“That stupidly happy look,” Yaku said, arms crossed. “You didn’t even block any spikes today, so it can’t be volleyball.”
Lev clutched his chest dramatically. “Ow, Yaku-san! That hurt!”
Yaku sighed. “Answer the question, beanpole.” Lev’s grin somehow got wider. “It’s nothing! Just a good day!”
Kenma didn’t even look up. “You’re too loud for ‘nothing.’”The others were starting to notice too. Inuoka was grinning. Kai had that oh no, here it comes expression.
Finally, Kuroo crouched beside him, a catlike smile on his face. “Lev…did this ‘good day’ happen to involve someone?”
Lev sat up fast, eyes wide. “What?! No!”
He flailed. “Okay, maybe!”
“Maybe?!” Yaku yelled. “That’s the same as yes!”
“Oh, Lev!” Inuoka said, laughing. “Who is she?”
Kenma muttered, “He’s not going to shut up about this for weeks.”
Lev’s ears went pink. He waved his arms, talking way too fast. “It’s not like that! We just—she—uh—wanted to watch practice sometime! I said yes! That’s it!”
Kuroo’s grin turned positively evil. “Oh, that’s it? You invited her to watch practice? Our Lev’s bringing a fan to the gym now?”
Lev sputtered. “No! She’s just curious! She—uh—likes volleyball!”
“Sure she does,” Yaku said dryly.
Lev groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You guys are the worst.”
Kenma, in his usual monotone, said, “You say that, but you’re still smiling.”
And he was. His whole face was lit up, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.
“Fine!” he blurted, springing to his feet. “She’s really nice, okay? She brought me coffee, and said my serves looked good, and—”
Kuroo choked. “Wait, she complimented your serves?” Yaku fell over laughing. “That’s how you know it’s serious.”
Lev’s blush deepened to crimson. “You’re all jealous!” he yelled, pointing at them dramatically.
“Jealous?” Yaku gasped between laughs. “I’m just impressed anyone survives a date with you talking this much.”
Kenma finally paused his game long enough to glance up. “He’ll scare her away before the warm-up’s over.”
“HEY!” Lev shouted. “You’re supposed to be my friends!”
Kuroo stood, clapping him on the shoulder, half-laughing, half-proud. “We are, Lev. And that’s why we’re going to be right here when she comes to watch practice.”
Lev froze in horror. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, we would,” Yaku said, grinning wickedly.
Kenma nodded. “I’ll even record it.”
Lev let out a dramatic groan, collapsing to the floor again. “You’re all evil!”
Kuroo chuckled. “You love us.”
Lev peeked up from under his arm, pouting but still smiling. “...Yeah, I guess I do.”
Kuroo ruffled his hair. “Good. Because we’re definitely telling Coach she’s your ‘motivation.’”
The gym filled with laughter—loud, teasing, genuine. Lev’s protests didn’t help; if anything, they made everyone laugh harder.
And when practice finally wrapped up for real, Kuroo caught him smiling again, phone in hand, typing something fast.
He didn’t say anything this time—just nudged Yaku and nodded toward Lev’s grin.
“Look at that,” Kuroo said quietly. “Our giant idiot’s growing up.”
Yaku smirked. “Yeah, but he’s still our idiot.”
Lev didn’t hear them—too busy rereading your text and grinning all over again.
Man exams are here already ( ;｀Д´).LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!
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