Kuroo Tetsurou was a dangerous man.
Yachi knows this instinctively, deep in her bones. A younger her, one associated with innocence and short hair, had known this intimately. Volleyball practice games, with bounding thighs and cocky glances, a razor sharp awareness in his eyes, had seen to it.
The alcove was tight, his arms caging her in. His eyes glowed in the dark. Like a predator.
Present Yachi was much older. Wiser. Her cheeks were a little sharper, baby fat finally gone after her last year of high school. She dressed better too, more prone to clothes that flattered the length of her legs, tops that hugged enough and dipped just before the border of scandalous. She was still sweet, offering up smiles that made her look even more like her mother, resemblance finally giving her pride instead of insecurity at the age of 21.
Yachi was wholly different. She felt wholly different. This was a body that didn't remember hands eclipsing her ribs as they skated up her uniform. Instead, she remembered polite smiles and the distinctive lack of a squeak in her voice. She remembered Kuroo Tetsurou, an undefinable look in his eyes as he accepted towels, water, food.
She remembered Kuroo Tetsurou was dangerous.
The man coming towards her, lips naturally curling into a smirk where he probably meant a grin, didn't seem to remember that. Yachi, clutching on to her purse in shock, was almost mad. Why was he forgetting that? Her own sanity demanded it of him. The way his own body had changed, heating the entire side length of her body as he sat next to her, his large body flush with hers so he could fit, didn't seem to agree.
"Yaccan!" Kuroo drawled, a spark in his eyes as he put an elbow on the seat in front of them, another resting behind her so his body twisted to face her. He could not have been more in her space if he'd tried.
His lips were achingly warm against her collarbone, her uniform unbuttoned half way just so he could find a spot to lick and suckle at that no one else but him would see.
"Kuroo-kun," Yachi said stiffly. She was uncomfortably warm. A strand of her long blonde hair fell forward into her face, and they both noticed the way his eyes tracked it, that same look she could never read pensive on his face.
She quickly pushed it behind her ear. His eyes, flickering down her body, flashed back up to hers at the action, a cheeky grin already gracing his lips. Yachi scowled lightly at him, her chest heaving up in an irritated inhale. His grin spread more at the sight. He had definitely not forgotten.
Kuroo pushed his knee against hers more, spreading his legs out slightly in the cramped space. It brought him even more flush against Yachi, his thighs and hips leaving no room between them. Her breath hitched slightly, and she tried not to blush.
Even as he sat there, looking down at her with that same haircut and those same analytical eyes, bright in the dim lighting of the bus, she couldn't help but categorise how different he looked. For a moment it had been like she was back in high school staring up at the intimidating figure of the Nekoma captain, but with a simple nudge of his thigh she had been forced to reconsider.
This Kuroo was much more handsome.
And that was saying something really. Somehow, he had grown even more muscular, the muscles in his thighs corded under his shorts. They didn't show as much as a pair of volleyball shorts would, but she could acutely feel the difference against her leg. And his legs, always a strong contender for making girls swoon, weren't the end.
Somehow, his jawline was sharper, his shoulders broader. His shirt was tight enough that she could see defined pecs, rounding out his chest in a way his lanky adolescent self had been unable to. She had no doubt his abs were just as chiselled as they had been, and Yachi was no fool. The smirk on his face and the way he flexed his biceps crowded around her meant he was fully aware of the way she tried to slide her gaze off him.
"Long time no see Ya-" Kuroo's voice dropped a decibel, crowing into her ear, "-chan."
"-chan… Keep, ah, keep going." He panted, grip tightening on her hair. His knees quivered, his legs using all the strained muscle in them possible to stay standing.
Yachi's breath hitched and she averted her eyes from him quickly, staring at her clasped hands intently. He flexed his leg against hers, but no matter how hard she stared at her hands, her peripheral vision soaked in the image of him pressed so tightly to her.
Dangerous, dangerous, dangerous man.
"Kuroo-kun," she murmured, still refusing to look at him. She tried to shuffle as much in the corner as possible. He flinched at her coldness, his leg letting the action run through to her own.
Yachi winced, a tiny prickle of guilt amassing in her chest. She always forgot, in her memories of him, of them, how sweet and kind he was. She peeked out at him, and her guilt grew at the look on his face.
His sure fire cockiness had wilted a little, turning his smirk more introspective and wry. As if it were his own fault she didn't know how to not hurt him. He's a dangerous man, Yachi, she tried to remind herself. Don't let him closer.
Nevertheless, she found herself opening her mouth. "How are you, Kuroo-kun?"
His lips languished against her own, taking their time. This kiss was different from their others. Usually they took and they took and they took, but this time she felt the full force of everything he owned giving into her. He had his eyes closed, and that was supposed to be important, yet when he reached for her hand, she automatically pulled it out of his reach.
His eyes flashed open, hurt quickly hiding behind an indefinable look as he smoothly transitioned to holding on to her waist instead. Yet still, his kisses tasted like love.
Kuroo's face was almost weary as he looked up and exhaled, the part of his hair that always fell over his eyes parting slightly at the action. But before she had the chance to blink, his face was back to that off-putting leer he seemed to slip on like a second skin. "Mah, mah, not much. I just came back from visiting friends. How about you, Crow-chan?"
Yachi almost smiled at the old nickname, turning to face him fully. "Well-"
She came to a stop, eyes wide. His expression was much the same, blinking and seeming oddly earnest, even though she could have sworn just a moment ago he was not that close, and not that sincere. Their noses were inches apart, her shifting bringing them uncomfortably seemed to stop for a second, or for however long Yachi held her breath. She couldn't break away from his stare.
The bus jolted suddenly, and her whole body lurched forward. Kuroo probably would have fallen off the seat from the impact of her body colliding into his if it weren't for his grip on the seat in front of them.
Nevertheless, she heard him let out a grunt as she knocked the wind out of him, his other arm coming around to wrap around her waist and steady her. There was a general consensus of grumbling around them from the sudden motion, but Kuroo and Yachi stayed like that, her head burrowed into his chest.
He was still gasping for air when she collapsed on top of him, head finding its way to his chest as he brought his fingers up to curl in her hair. Her body tingled everywhere, throbbing in all the right places as her naked chest chafed against his body. They both shuddered at the sensation. When she looked up into Kuroo's eyes, they were hypnotised. No one had ever looked at her with such dark, wanting eyes before. They'd just been going at it, but it seemed that look was always there.
"S-sorry!" Yachi gasped, practically flinging herself away from him.
Kuroo's hand didn't leave her waist. His palm was like a brand burning through her clothes, his fingers slight curve imprinting into her skin. His face was serious when he leaned back into her space. "You okay?"
Yachi nodded her head vigorously. Her hair pulled slightly at the sensation, caught against Kuroo's forearm. When she glanced down, she noticed his arm hair was standing on end. "That was my fault."
He didn't look at his arm. He kept his gaze on her face, grip seeming to tighten around her. He ignored the lack of logic in her argument, and there was something about the soft flutter of his eyelashes that relaxed the straightness in Yachi's spine. "I have been up to absolutely evernothing."
There was a moment of silence as the pair processed what she'd said. Yachi immediately locked her eyes on the ground, face turning scarlet as she realised her tongue tie. The thigh somehow still pressed tightly to her own began to shake. Kuroo's arm instinctively tightened as his laughter burst through, uncontainable.
She looked up, embarrassment causing her lips to pout petulantly. Kuroo sounded like a villain with his full blown laugh, never restricted and never hidden in its velocity. She thought of saying something about it, turning the tables on him to hide her blunder, but when she looked at his frame, she realised although she hadn't seen him in years, she hadn't seen him laugh in longer. He looked… happy.
Happy in a way that made her heart throb.
Her chest feeling restricted, she did what she did best- ignored it. "Kuroo-kun!"
Kuroo wiped a tear from his eye, giving her a fond look. "Yacchan," he hummed. The deep baritone of it sent goosebumps running across her skin. "You're so silly."
He pulled her leg up, over on to his shoulder, skimming his fingers down the back of her thigh. The friction between his soft fingers and her stockings made her quiver. His eyes looked up at her, fingers swirling up and up and up her inner thigh. She almost covered her face at the sight, the heady look in his eyes an overwhelming combination with the rising tension he coiled deep inside herself. He never looked down, holding eye contact with her even as a finger pushed aside her underwear. He leaned down, eyes glowing, and curled his tongue over her clit, humming his pleasure.
Kuroo was a dangerous man.
Yachi went stiff, praying to the gods that he didn't look closely enough to notice her nipples straining against the fabric of her shirt.
Alas, no luck. Kuroo's eyes were dark and heady, even more intense than when they'd been teenagers. His pupils dilated, and with a last, lingering squeeze to her waist, he leaned in close, right next to her ear. His voice was gravelly. "I'll see you around, Yacchan."
Kuroo stood up, arms rippling as he leaned over her with a smirk. And then, leaving her there with flushed cheeks, he turned around and got off the bus.
Yachi rubbed her legs together, looking down at where her hands were clasped so tightly they were white as chalk. Her whole body tingled.
Kuroo Tetsurou was a dangerous, dangerous man.