#tetsuro

Your gaze drifted over to the empty gaming chair: The broad figure that had been slumped there last night no longer present. Was practice still in session? You lifted a finger, gently poking Kenma’s forehead to push his head away from you. The setter grunted in retaliation, a soft frown etched in his sleep, arms tightening instinctively around your waist. But after a moment of stubborn prodding, his grip loosened; and with a soft huff, Kenma rolled away, curling into himself as he settled back into sleep. 

Mochi was no different. Nose nuzzled under Kozume’s arm at your sudden awakening. Normally, you would’ve been in complete shambles at the scene you had found yourself in. The way your body entangled itself with a boy you had only met the other night. It was diabolical, really, how your figure betrayed all sense of reason. And if you had half a mind, you’d have scolded the innate motion. But your focus was on Kuroo, and the brisk opportunity to survey your phone for any inclination to his disappearance. Which seemed to be a bit harder to divulge than thought… because your phone was spammed with countless messages from the Karasuno team; Tanaka’s video, Nishinoya’s explanation of his receive, and a bizarre question for you in the groupchat. Yet there was nothing from Tetsuro. No update on a training that ran longer than intended. 

Was the noise outside… Kuroo?

Slowly, you lifted yourself away from the comfort of Kenma’s bed, feet padding softly across the wooden floor until you pressed the side of your face against the cool glass of the window. It was difficult to make out anything beyond the faint glow of the streetlamps — their light barely stretched across the pavement below, leaving most of the courtyard swallowed in shadow. If Kuroo was out there, though, standing at his towering six-foot-two, he should have been at least somewhat easy to spot.

But no — the courtyard remained frustratingly a mystery. 

Which meant the only confirmation you’d get was to leave the complex. Trudge down the enclosed stairs, creep along the edge of the building, and come face-to-face with whoever had been relentlessly pounding against the apartment. For all you knew, it could’ve been a serial killer. Some unhygienic creep lurking outside the complex, just waiting to put his grubby hands on the first unfortunate woman he found wandering into the dark.

Yep — what a great plan you had. A quick way to get yourself wiped from existence. 

Though, was it really surprising that you ignored every condensed knot in your stomach, every scream in your body telling you to turn around as you descended the outer stairwell? No. Truthfully, it was the very thing you’d do, hand held out on the railing out of habit as you squinted through the gloom. If you made it this far, stuck in somewhere unknown, surely your luck wasn’t going to run out that soon.

So, when you pushed open the metal door at the bottom of the building, stepping into the night while you followed the faint glow of the vending machine, you weren’t all that surprised to see Kuroo there.  

Sweat glued to his temples, droplets sliding from his chin each time he sent the volleyball crashing against the already brutalized wall. Frankly, you felt bad for the inanimate object. But Tetsuro didn’t seem to mind. Each resounding smack against the concrete was a reminder of just how strong he’d gotten over the years.

The captain’s hair was a mess, the usual wild spikes flattened by sweat from the intensity of his practice. Every swing of his arm pulled the fabric of his shirt taut across his shoulders, muscles shifting beneath it from countless hours spent training. And each grip to the ball displayed the veins that protruded from his hands. 

There was something almost… volatile about the way he moved. 

“Guessing practice wasn’t enough?” The captain stalled from your voice; the round object, which was once glued against his palm, slipped between his grasp. 

His head tilted to the right, idle eyes narrowed in your direction. The displayed expression resembled something closer to pique. And if you had to guess, Kuroo wasn’t all too pleased with your abrupt interruption. But he responded, nonetheless. “Did you wake Kenma?” 

“Hm?”

Tetsuro’s usual playful tone was replaced with something closer to a bite. Your heel positioned itself slightly behind, body prepared to make a swift exit in case he ushered you away. Did something bad happen at school?

Kuroo’s eyes scanned your newly found stance and, for a brief moment, scolded himself at how outlandish his remark was. There was no need to drop the habitual smugness he possessed. The astute rush of adrenaline when he saw the two of you never warranted anything more than a laugh. 

But he couldn’t put aside the frustration that coursed his veins — for some unknown fucking reason. (wow, was Kuroo an idiot)

“Just forget it,” he picked the volleyball back up, tossing it in the air and spiking against the wall once again. “With prelims around the corner, I just want to keep the good momentum.” 

Honestly, you found his words hard to believe. How could he lose that impetus? It seemed like he ate, drank, and breathed the sport. But you didn’t know him — not really. And you couldn’t be sure how invested each player was in this tournament. “I think sleep is important too y'know. To be able to keep up with the exercise.” Kuroo muttered something under his breath; a sly remark, but you didn’t take much notice. Your eyes were glued to the reddened palm of his right hand, a sting that surely had to be agonizing in the cool night air. “I can start taking the gaming chair.” 

“What?” 

“It seemed uncomfortable,” you noted, voice low. “And if I’m staying until preliminaries… and you end up crashing at Kenma’s sometimes, you’d probably need somewhere a lot… comfier.”

The captain’s eyes widened, a small crease between his brows as he stared at you in disbelief. Surely, he didn’t hear you correctly: Staying? For the past twenty-four hours, the only thing you’d seemed concerned about was finding your family. Figuring out how to get back to wherever you came from. But if you were staying until preliminaries… Well, that was four weeks away. 

His heartbeat picked up without warning, adrenaline rushing through him so quickly it almost felt embarrassing. Tetsuro’s imagination betrayed him instantly — late nights lingering longer than they should, the quiet comfort of sharing the same space, you curled up somewhere in his apartment when it was too late to reach Kenma’s. God, he could already picture you drowning in one of his shirts again — What the fuck? Focus, Kuroo. “You’re staying… Here?”

“Oh.” You ran a hand through your hair, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Kenma suggested I transfer to Nekoma. Maybe even become the volleyball manager for preliminaries. Crazy right?” 

Four hours. Kenma had spent four hours with you alone and somehow he’d already convinced you to stay; to attend Nekoma high. Kuroo honestly couldn’t decide whether he should feel impressed… or irritated. “Huh,” he huffed, ball spinning within his grasp. “Did Kenma threaten you? Did you lose a bet?” 

“Well, it’s not final,” you said. But who were you kidding? You were already planning a sly way to forge documents if need be. “Wait… Does Kenma bet on games?”

Kuroo perked a brow, spiking the ball one last time before he tucked it under his arm. “No, he doesn't." 

There wasn’t much to say after that. No thread of words that could follow his declaration. Really, you couldn’t tell if it was his way of wanting the conversation to end. His own subtle hint that your presence was a hindrance on his patience. But apparently, you sucked at reading the room. So you stayed, shifting on your weight as the vending machine hummed louder through the thick silence. 

“So, Nekoma’s manager,” Kuroo’s abrupt continuation made your head tilt, irises dilating up at the tall captain. “Guess that would mean you’d be seeing a lot of us.” He took a few steps forward. “Think you could handle the disorganization? We have an overnight training next weekend. And Lev’s involved, so… statistically speaking, things are going to explode at some point.”

“Yeah… kind of sounds fun.” 

The thought alone made blood rush to his head. His bicep tightened around the volleyball as the mere idea settled further in his brain: It wasn’t just excitement — at least, not the kind he felt before a match. This was lighter somehow, gradual in power, like a candle set under a curtain before he even realized the fabric had ignited.

Endless imaginations formed within the right hemisphere of his brain: You perched against the gym wall, you tallying how many receives Lev butchered, you trailing behind the team in overnight travels, complaining about how cramped everything was.

Kuroo slacked his jaw, suddenly aware that he’d been staring at the volleyball far longer than intended. Weird. He popped the ball out from his arm, rolling it around both palms to shake the odd clutch in his chest. Still, the thought lingered — Tetsuro would be seeing a lot of you. Because if you were really sticking around Nekoma for that long… Well, there’d be a lot of idiots around. And someone would probably have to keep an eye on you. 

His gaze flickered toward the apartment building behind you — Kenma included. Though he’d never admit that part out loud.

Fuck, did this mean he’d have to convince the academic offairs office to line your classes up with his? “Manager’s a pretty important job,” he released the constant roll of the ball against his hands, slamming it into the ground with increasing force. “Do you know anything about volleyball?” 

“Well,” your head flit to the side, allowing the shadows to cover the faint sheen of red that brushed your cheeks. “I’ve watched it before.” Then, without much thought, you rambled out of complete ignominy. “I know there’s… a blocker — wait, no three? Yes, cause three people are in the front. Then there’s the little one,” oh you really should stop talking. Especially, because the next words that slip your mouth with way too much confidence, are in fact pitifully inaccurate. “And the two in the back are divers!” 

Kuroo’s eye twitched. 

And momentarily, he truly thought he’d lose it. Never once had he heard someone call the right back and left back divers. Sure, they received the ball and helped with defense. They were solid players, the ones that allowed the setters and blockers to feel at ease whenever an iron wall was missed. But just because they dived for a few balls, didn’t exactly make them divers. 

“Let me stop you right there,” he breathed in, chest puffed outwards before he broke into a fit of laughter: A sound that only a hyena would make. “First, never say that in front of the team. Two, you’ll be handling stats for each player,” Kuroo’s shoulders eased, but the faint chuckles kept sputtering out of his throat every few seconds. “After each scrimmage, practice, game — you’ll be in charge of giving us our callout.” 

You wanted to crawl into a hole and die. Maybe being manager wasn’t the best idea. “Oh.”

But Tetsuro noted the drop in your shoulders, the crane of your neck as your head focused on the few loose pebbles on the ground. He knew your once hopeful notion came crashing in an instant. Except that was the very thing the captain tried to avoid. Strangely, he wanted you in his classes. He wanted you watching every time he stole a point. “As captain, I’ll make it a priority to teach you. That way, stats won’t be so difficult.” He tossed the ball forward. Your hands shot up on instinct, catching it clumsily against your chest. “Think of volleyball like chemistry. Right elements, right timing… boom. Instant reaction!” To him, that was a sufficient explanation to the intensity of the team sport. But your reaction led him to believe he wasn’t the best of metaphorical tutors. “Why don’t you come to practice tomorrow? It’s a good way to learn and to get to know the team.” 

Kuroo was right. If you so desperately strived to transfer schools, the least you could do was get on their prized teams good side… it wouldn't hurt to have the coach’s recommendation either. So what if a few documents were missing, if a responsible adult vouches for you, surely they’d have to agree. Especially if you were assisting victory for their very own bragging rights.

“Deal.” 

The captain huffed in acknowledgment, a feign nonchalance in his stature as he pulled his phone from the floor. In hindsight, it wasn’t the best of moves, throwing you deep in the lion’s den of the Nekoma chat, introducing you to some of the most tumultuous group of boys past midnight. If he had thought in advance, taken into account a random number thrown into a pile of constants, maybe he would’ve made a different decision. 

Or perhaps he had thought it meant you couldn’t flee. Everyone now had your number, a way to insert themselves into your reluctant decisions. And boy did they waste no time, illimitable dings of replies punctual as ever. 

What Tetsuro didn’t know, however, was the fact that your phone rested against Kenma’s spine. And Kozume wasn’t exactly the most fond of the vibrations. He stirred, eyes cracked open halfway. “Hmph.”

The setter turned his head toward the empty spot beside him, golden eyes now narrowed at the faint glow of the phone screen lighting the dark. The notifications kept appearing one after another. Group chat messages. A lot of them.

He exhaled slowly and reached out, fingers languidly dragging your phone closer before reading the lock screen. (wow, he really had no boundaries in terms of privacy) And to his surprise, the chat title was the very thing Lev had created in the past week. 

Huh — Kuroo had added you. That was fast.

His gaze drifted away from the phone as the room slowly came back into focus. That’s when he noticed something. The weight beside him was gone — the space had cooled, the crumpled sheets where you’d been curled earlier now flattened. 

He pushed himself up a little, glancing around the room: The chair was empty, the door wasn’t fully closed, and faintly, from outside, were inconsistent thuds. Kenma slipped out of bed, trudging the same route you did before, forehead pressed to the glass as he took in the weak circles of streetlight.

He couldn’t see; but he could hear the atrocious laugh of Kuroo. Of course he was outside. And of course he had managed to get you alone again. As pitiful as his flirting was, girls always seemed to stray around him. 

Maybe it was his hair? No, Kenma couldn’t find that feasible. There was no way his friend's spikes gave him brownie points. You probably just couldn’t go back to sleep; yes, that sounded more factual.

Kenma pushed himself away from the window, stomach flopping onto the comforter of his bed while Mochi repositioned. Huh, maybe a text wouldn’t hurt. Just to be sure.

♡ Tanaka and Nishinoya after practice texts ♡

♡ Karasuno's... strange question ♡

♡ Nekoma chaos ♡

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author's note: why is writing Kuroo so difficult. Like how do you make him smug but also awful at flirting lol. Anyway, here's a short little chapter to set-up your school transfer! (the overnight training... going to be absolute drama and chaos I can't wait for you)

Also, I'm still writing for my requests! It's been a busy week, so flipping between the two!

The sun barged through the window so boldly, as if it had been waiting for the weekend just to slip through the loosely drawn curtains and scatter golden stripes across the bed, the blanket, your face. You squeezed your eyes shut, tried to turn away, but the warmth had already spread over your cheek, and your second attempt to hide failed, the very moment you realized something wasn’t letting you escape those intrusive rays. Beside you settled a familiar weight, steady breathing that hitched on the exhale into a soft, almost feline huff, and a hand draped across your waist so possessively, as if it had every right to be there.

Kuroo was asleep, occupying the bed with that same catlike audacity that somehow let him take up far more space than one person should. His legs were tangled with yours so thoroughly you couldn’t tell whose knees were whose anymore. One arm pinned you gently to the mattress, the other was tucked under the pillow, and his hair stuck out in all directions, forming a chaotic halo around his head. The air around you carried that familiar scent of warm skin and morning, something that only belongs to people you love so much it makes you tremble.

You lay there for another minute, soaking it all in, his weight, his warmth, his breath tickling your shoulder. The room was quiet; only the occasional car passed somewhere outside in the Sunday city, and birds called to each other. Sunlight crept across the blanket, reaching his face, and you found yourself holding your breath, watching how it fell across his cheekbones, his sharp chin, his slightly parted lips.In sleep, he was different. Not that sly cat who could provoke you with a single smile. Not the captain carrying the weight of his team. Not the sarcastic menace who loved teasing everyone around him. Here, in the quiet of the morning, he looked almost like a boy, relaxed, defenseless, the lines near his eyes smoothed out, his brows faintly furrowed even in sleep, as if he still worried about something.

But your body insisted on reality, and the need to go to the bathroom eventually overpowered your desire to stay like this forever. Carefully, you tried to move, freeing your legs from the trap of his. It worked, so you shifted slightly, trying to slip out from under his arm and at that exact moment, his fingers tightened around your waist, pulling you back with sudden, reflexive force.

He didn’t even wake up. His body, his instincts, reacted faster than his mind: mine, don’t let go.

— “Where?” His voice was muffled, sleepy, buried in the pillow, barely understandable, but the tone, demanding, possessive, even through sleep, made you smile.

— “Bathroom,” you whispered, gently stroking his arm, trying to soothe and persuade him at the same time.

— “Later.”

— “Kuroo…”

He didn’t answer, just pulled you closer, burying his nose somewhere between your neck and shoulder. His warm, steady, slightly damp breath evened out again as he sank back into sleep. His hair tickled your skin, stubborn, unruly and you absentmindedly ran your fingers through it, getting lost in the morning mess.

— “Five minutes,” he mumbled into your collarbone, and it sounded like a verdict.

— “Just five more minutes.”

You sighed, realizing the battle was lost, and leaned back against the pillow, staring at the ceiling as that slow, warm, infinitely tender feeling spread through your body. Lying like this, pressed against him, feeling how his muscles beneath your palms slowly began to wake, tiny twitches, faint tremors, the shifting rhythm of his breathing. It was its own kind of happiness, the kind you wanted to hold onto with both hands.

Time moved slowly, thick as honey. The sunlight crawled onto his back, gilding the dark fabric of his shirt, and you watched how it played across his shoulder blades, how shadows fell along each vertebra, how his long fingers rested loosely on your waist. And suddenly you caught yourself thinking, you could wake up like this every morning for the rest of your life. Even if you had to wait for those “five more minutes” for hours.

Exactly half an hour later you knew, because you’d counted three cycles of him drifting off and stirring his eyelids finally fluttered. First his lashes trembled, then his brows shifted slightly, and at last his eyes opened. Cloudy, unfocused, empty, they landed on you without recognition, filled only with that dark amber depth still heavy with sleep.He blinked once. Then again. His gaze drifted lazily from the pillow, to your shoulder, to your face and then stopped, focused. You saw the exact moment his mind caught up, when that emptiness shattered into something warm, golden, infinitely familiar.

— “Hey,” he breathed out, and that single word held everything surprise that you were still here, joy that it was you, and a strange, almost puppy-like gratitude that didn’t quite fit him. His voice was rough, low, sleepy morning voice.

— “Well, good morning, sleepyhead,” you smiled, your chest tightening at the way his sly eyes lit up in response. That catlike squint that always made your heart race, even now, when you were both tangled in bed, messy and half-asleep.

— “Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked, a familiar smirk creeping into his voice, though his eyes remained soft, warm, almost sticky with tenderness.

— “You wouldn’t let me go.”

— “Oh. Right.” He gave you that signature grin, the kind girls all over Tokyo would probably do anything for.

— “Party policy: don’t let valuable things out of your hands.”

You rolled your eyes, but inside everything melted, warmth spreading through your veins, because you knew ,for him, you were the most valuable. Not a thing, but something like a center. An axis. A place to return to.

— “I still need the bathroom,” you reminded him, trying to hold onto some semblance of seriousness.

— “Oops.” He widened his eyes in mock guilt, but didn’t move his hand.

— “And if I let you go… you won’t run away, right? You’ll come back?”

— “Where would I go?”

— “Promise.”

— “I promise.”

He studied you for a second, as if checking your honesty, then suddenly leaned in and kissed the tip of your nose. Only after that did his fingers loosen, letting you go.

When you came back, a little more awake, thinking about breakfast, he was still lying the same way, but now his eyes were open, following you from the doorway to the bed, never letting go for even a second. You slipped back under the blanket, and he immediately moved closer, wrapped you up again, buried his nose in your hair, inhaling deeply as if checking that you still smelled the same.

— “Coffee?” you asked into his chest.

— “Nah,” his voice turned sleepy again, relaxed.

— “We’re staying here.”

— “But I want coffee.”

— “I’m your coffee. Black, strong, first thing in the morning,” he huffed at his own joke, and you felt the vibration of his quiet laugh against your head.

— “Drink me.”

— “You’re unbearable,” you rolled your eyes, smiling.

— “Yep!” His voice sounded so pleased it might burst.

— “Your...uhg...”

Tetsuro was supposed to have work off today since it was his birthday but he was called in earlier in the morning—and of course he agrees to go in. You had tried to convince him to stay home and just ignore it, but he's stubborn of course, promising he'd be home early anyway and not to worry. He kisses you on the forehead and gets ready, and eventually leaves. You can't help but be equally irritated with him and at the same time feeling bad.

You had planned to make him breakfast and spend the whole day cuddled up with him and then go out for dinner. But now that that plan is long gone out the window due to Tetsuro's stubborn antics and his tendency to be a workaholic you plan something else. Something more... intimate just for him. Hours later after hetting his text at six pm that he was on his way home you began to get his 'gift' ready.

You stripped down and put on your skimpiest lingerie—pink and covered in lace, almost completely see through. You also had grabbed silky red ribbons, meticulously wrapping it around your thighs in a bow keeping them tight together like you were his present to open. Then another silky ribbon around your calves and then your waist—and after a bit of struggle around your wrists in a messy bow. You had successfully tied yourself up in those red silky ribbons you waited—and after what felt like an eternity you heard the front door open and Tetsuro's voice echo through out your home. "Baby, I'm home." His voice is quiet, and a bit tired making your stomach ache a little.

You knew work wasn't how he wanted to spend his birthday despite his stubborness. His steps grew closer to the room, you stayed quiet, wanting to surprise him. "Baby?" He carefully pushed open your bedroom door, takeout bag in hand. "I stopped to get us some—" Tetsuro's eyes widened, seeing you, tied up like a gift on your shared bed. His lips parted and he couldn't tell whether he should laugh or moan outloud. He set the takeout bag on the nightstand and approached you on the bed.

"Oh?" A small smirk slowly forming on his lips, his tone already much more.. delighted than earlier. "This for me, baby?" He teased, sitting on the bed in front of you, his fingers ghosting over the red ribbions on your thighs. You nodded eagerly, a small faux innocent smile on your mouth. "Mhm, just for you." You say, head tilted to the side watching his veined hands slide up your thighs. Between your legs ached immediately, as he touched your thighs—not to mention the way he was looking at you, like he was holding back pouncing on you right this very second.

"Well, I guess I should unwrap my gift, hm?" He smirks, slowly beginning to untie the bows from your calves, his lips following suit slowly kissing up your legs till he reached the bows on your thighs. He carefully pulled the end between his teeth and tugged—successfully untying the second bow with his teeth. The silk fell and he grabbed it, setting it to the side. You could only imagine what he was gonna do to you.

Heat pooled and coiled in your lower stomach and you hoped he was enjoying this as much as you were, but by the look in his eyes you could tell he was more than enjoying it. Tetsuro kissed up your thighs torturously slow, grabbing your legs and tugging you down till your head hit the pillows.

“I can't hold back anymore, y/n.” He admits, voice low and full of barely restrained need. “Are you ready?”

He spread your legs, holding your thighs down as he teased you. His tongue darting out and gliding against the edge of your skimpy panties. "These are so pretty on you, baby." He murmurs lowly, teeth nipping at the hem and slowly pulling down.

You couldn't help but find that extremely hot, watching him tug off your panties with his teeth. That only made you wetter and needier. Your panties get discarded carelessly to the side, his body shifting up to quickly unbutton his shirt and take off his pants and boxers. Tetsuro can barely tease you anymore, he's getting painfully hard. Once he's naked himself, he's between your legs, pinning your bound wrists above your head with one hand, while the other holds the back of your thigh up—hiking it over his shoulder.

You nod, biting your lip as you brace yourself for the stretch of his cock inside you. Tetsuro exhales shakily and carefully pushes inside inch by inch. The stretch is painfully good, making both of you inhale sharply. “Fuck, baby.” He groans, resting his forehead against yours—hand tightening around your wrists. “You're the best birthday gift I could ever ask for.”

You moan, squeezing your eyes shut as his fat cock bottoms out inside you. Your cunt flutters around him, getting used to his size again. He's been inside you more times than you can count, but still every time it feels like the first with how big and thick he is. You can practically feel each vein—each aching twitch and pulse. It hurts in all the best ways possible.

He sighs and gently kisses your lips in tender, gentle pecks as if asking you if you're alright without words. “I'm gonna start moving, okay, baby?” He murmurs. Before you can think to respond he begins to slowly pull back and drive back forward in a deep sensual thrust. It's enough to make your back arch and punch a whine from your chest.

God, that makes him smug, but he can't even tease you now, too lost in your warm slick. You clench around him again, fluttering around him like you're trying to milk him dry. “Fuck—keep doing that and I'm not gonna last, sweetheart.” He rasps, picking up the pace. His hips rut into you in a rough, deep rhythm angling for your g-spot.

When you cry out he smirks faintly, moaning quietly. “Yeah? Right there?” He whispers into your ear, ramming his cock into that spot repeatedly. You nod, head tipping back in pleasure.

Tetsuro lets go of your ribbon bound wrists, his hands moving down to your thighs, pressing them down into a mating press. He moans against your ear and slams his hips forward harder. “...’M so fucking close, baby.” He whimpers, nipping at your neck to try and quiet himself.

You arch against him letting him manhandle you into whatever position he likes. “I'm c-close too..” You whine.

“Then cum, please, baby. Please cum for me.” He begs lowly against your skin. You don't think you've ever heard Tetsuro beg, and God do you need to hear it again and again. The tone of his voice makes the coil in your lower stomach snap. Your orgasm wracks your body violently—gummy walls fluttering and spasming around him as you shudder and cry out.

He moans—the sound filthy and music to your ears. “Fuck, ‘m cumming baby. Gonna cum so deep inside you.” He grunts, hips stuttering as he spills inside you. White ribbons of cum spurting inside your cunt. For a moment he's still, panting against your neck before he lays against you for a bit.

Both of you relax, bodies melting together.

He sighs and lifts his head. “That.. that was the best gift ever, baby. Best birthday sex ever.” He rasps, voice low and tired.

Tetsuro slowly sits up and pulls out of you, a small whimper leaving your lips. He kisses your forehead and caresses your cheek before grabbing your bound wrists and carefully unties them. He presses soft kisses along your wrists where the red ribbon formerly was. “You're so pretty.” He murmurs against your skin before moving his fingers to untie the last ribbon from your waist.

Once you're untied and bare he exhales softly, looking over your body in awe despite both of you being spent. “I love you.” He mumbles laying beside you and pulling you against him.

You bury your face against his chest, soaking up all the skin to skin time. “I love you too.” You murmur, closing your eyes. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you, baby.” He says quietly, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his face against your hair.

The takeout? Completely forgotten about till later he panics remembering it's there and puts it in the fridge so it doesn't go bad.

๋࣭ ⭑⚝

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO KUROO 🥹🙏 (hes so old) (comments and reblogs are appreciated pls and tyy!!!)