Tsukishima Kei is a frigid bastard with no feeling or anytype of regard towards anyone but himself. In fact, rumor has it, that he only keeps around Yamaguchi Tadashi because he worships Tsukishima.
They say Tsukishima is an ice cold bitch.
Kuroo loves every second of it.
He loves the cold brush offs, the sharp biting words and each and every glare.
Kuroo can't help it. He finds himself missing cold toes and warm hands. This paper? He definitely won't miss this paper.
He finds himself bouncing along with bumps of the midnight train, finds himself staring out at the city lights that look a little bit like stars. His mind spaces in and out, he misses entire stops, the seas of people shuffling in and out. When he remembers where he is the smell of the plastic seats and the jostle of other people greet him.
Kuroo barely notices his stop, he doesn't even know that this was where he wanted to be until he notices where he is. He drags himself up from his seat, hand pushing along the rail, music blaring in his ears and he heads home.
The steps up to the house are darkened and that's when Kuroo realises the time. He pulls his phone out of his hoodie and check the time, a bright 12:42 am, before wrapping earbuds across the screen and shoving his phone back into the pocket.
He wouldn't want to knock on the door, but he just wants to be home. It's an ache that burns in his chest and catches in his throat.
Kuroo's eyes slide across the yard before catching on the overhanging roof. The only thought running through his head is 'This is cliche as fuck isn't it?' before swinging himself up and over. Kuroo worries, as he always does, that someone will hear them, or Tsukki won't want to see him.
But home.
So he taps on the window and waits. Then he knocks just a bit louder. The shuffle inside is quiet but there and he feels relieved, because Tsukki is there. The curtains draw apart and a groggy face appears in the window before the glass is shoved up.
"What the fuck?" Tsukki whispers from across the window sill and it's throaty and full of sleep and perfect. He must see something in Kuroo, maybe the tiredness or the weight on his shoulders but he steps aside as Kuroo nimbly crawls through.
When he stands back up it's to find Tsukki standing next to the spill of moonlight with his arms crossed. It looks like a vision from the gods, all of them.
He wants to walk over, wants to talk to him but he can't right now. He's so tired and his brain can't think anymore. Instead he drapes himself around Tsukki and wraps him in a hug. Tsukki stiffens at first in his arms before slowly relaxing, a sort of calm that washes through his body.
"Babe," it comes right next to his ear with a rush of affection "what's wrong?" Tsukki questions. Kuroo only shakes his head and squeezes him closer "I'm just-" he tries, "I wanted to come home," he says instead and feels Tsukki tighten again.
Tsukki's hands trail down along Kuroo's sweater and clasps at Kuroo's hand before dragging him to his bed.
This is still his childhood home, dinosaurs still line up along the shelves and books scatter across the room. The room is so purely Tsukki, so purely Kei that Kuroo feels like he's drowning in it.
They lay down together in the dark, with the breeze still falling through the window and holding each other's hands. Tsukki nuzzles into his neck then whispers "You're so fucking cliche." A noncommittal hum responds to him as Tsukki falls silent, their breathing joining the other night's sounds.
"Keep talking," Kuroo says, startlingly loud against the night. Tsukki's eyes widen in the dark, before "We're cliche, but not as bad as freaking Sugamama and Dadchi, I swear to god those to probably dance to like, smooth jazz or something," he speculates. Together they giggle, as Tsukki rambles on about how disgusting some of the couples at his school are. It's adorable because him and Tsukki do the same exact things.
Kuroo's fingers rub against Tsukki's calluses from volleyball and writing as he rambles into the night. He shit talks the first years and the other second years and the third years, receiving a chuckle and a slight reprimand of "respect your elders," from Kuroo. It's too dark to tell but he thinks Tsukki's lips ghost into a smug smirk.
Kuroo is tired and Tsukki can tell from the wear on his shoulders and the drag in his laugh. Tsukki is tired and Kuroo can tell from the dark bags set into pale skin and the slightly needy hold on his hand. Slowly Kuroo eases himself into the conversation, he finds it easier to talk and harder to stress. It's such a nice feeling to sink himself into the covers and the smell of Tsukki.
"Kei," he whispers against Tsukki's ear at one point, "I love you," and it's too dark to tell if there really is a red blush across his cheeks. (There really is, but Kuroo's in love with him and Kuroo is nice, he would never betray the trust of his one true love by admitting to it, besides these nights are for them.)
It's late when their legs intertwine beneath the sheets, cold toes pressing betwen warm thighs and Kuroo can't help but think 'This boy,' can't help but think about all the queues that Tsukki picks up, all the small favors and thinks 'ahh, he really is a sweetheart'.
Tetsurou doesn't think Kei's ever been warmer.
Tsukki wakes up cold, the morning air blowing into his window and there are voices downstairs. He doesn't think he could get up if he wanted to. Instead he sends a text to the phone belonging to a voice he can hear in the kitchen.
You:
Hey, Do you wanna talk about last night
Tetsurou:
No
Tetsurou:
I 3 you
You:
Oh, ok
You:
I love you too
You:
Did you know that Dinosaur's first appeared during the Triassic period