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Nope. Nada. Never.
You are not a stalker. Really, you aren’t.
It’s just that Kuroo Tetsurou, along with some girl whose face you’ve never seen on campus, is conveniently in the same room where you are currently sitting under a table. You have no idea what went through that thick skull of yours when you decided to hide from the man, but you delight in the fact that, despite his accusations, you are definitely not a stalker. You are just in the right place at the right time.
So, no, eavesdropping on Kuroo receiving yet another confession isn’t part of your itinerary for the day. In fact, you’d be happier if he wasn’t part of any day at all because not once in your entire life have you met anyone as annoying as Kuroo Tetsurou. He was downright despicable, that man. An abomination among abominations. The bane of your existence. The Achilles heel to your, well, Achilles!
“Really, Kuroo? Is this some kind of high school confession?” you whisper to yourself, hoping it wasn’t loud enough for them to hear in the mostly empty lecture hall.
Despite what it looks like, you still have enough human decency to pull out your phone and earplugs from your bag and listen to whatever music while they do the do in hushed voices.
‘Wow. I make it sound so dirty.’
Weeell, you learned from the best. Dirty is, after all, what Kuroo is best at. Playing dirty, that is.
Every single day, without fail, he manages to get under your nerves. He debates with you in class just for the sake of finding fault in your logic (Which you do not have. Seriously, is he even trying?). He buys you pineapple juice, knowing full well how much you detest the flavor. He sends you memes in the middle of class to see if you’d get in trouble for laughing. He even manages to wink at you at least a hundred times every freaking time you meet!
‘Okay, maybe not that much. But the point is,’ you note with an exasperated sigh, ‘I think he lives to torment me.’
It hasn’t always been like this. The whole situation started as a fleeting thing. You chalk it off to your freshman self who was new to the whole prospect of Tokyo boys, and Kuroo Tetsurou, with his sexy bedhead, infectious goofy laugh, and superb intellect that could put your whole batch running for their GPAs, was nothing if not the very definition of an all-around, responsible, and irresistible Tokyo boy. Naturally, your provincial ass was intrigued.
You eventually have your moments with him- a few lingering looks when he recites in class (because hearing someone explain the whole process of Glycolysis without breaking a sweat was somehow a turn on for you), more than a few “accidental” bump-ins in the library, a temporary courage you got from liquid luck to tell him his gluteal muscles was the best you’ve seen in a man.
“So you’re saying,” he said as he rested his face on his hand, leaning forward on the table it was propped on, “you’ve been checking my ass out.”
“What? No!” You denied before taking another swig, borrowing more strength from the Asahi Super Dry you had in your hand. “Only when you’re playing volleyball.”
“You go to my games?” His reply came with a smirk at the confession and the sudden rush of blood to your cheeks. Any other day, you would have categorized the upturn of his lips as “unnecessary”, but, for some weird reason, being alone with him on the table, while your classmates were on the floor dancing to “My Heart Will Go On”, just gave you the right atmosphere to call it some cheesy word like “beguiling” right in his face.
“Ohohoho? And you think I’m ‘beguiling’?”
“I’m saying you look like a snake.” You make a mental note to not use the word on a normal conversation ever again.
“Sure you are.”
You feel your cheeks heat up as you recall that fateful day when your college life took a turn for the worse. Your hands cover your face as you feel a familiar wave of secondhand embarrassment for your past self.
‘Gosh, who uses “beguiling” nowadays anyway? He must have thought I was a poser.’
“You can come out now, kitten,” a voice pounds on the walls of the hall, reverberating in the acoustic-friendly room. It knocks you out of your reverie, and you knock your head on the table as an aftermath.
“Who the hell is he calling kitten,” you curse as you pull out the plugs in your ears and crawl out of your hiding place, carrying your bag over one shoulder.
“Y/N, what a surprise,” Kuroo says with raised eyebrows.
Your hand is still rubbing the top of your head. The pain magnifies as soon as your eyes spot that pathetic excuse of a cat.
“Seems to me it isn’t such a surprise to you, now is it, Kuroo?” the glare you send isn’t enough to intimidate him to leave. On the contrary, it pushes him to walk in slow, menacing steps to where you are.
As soon as he reaches the aisle facing you, he pauses. “Of course it isn’t. I do have high expectations for my number one stalker.”
Your eyebrow twitches. “Number one? Just how many stalkers do you have?”
He’s smiling now. “Is that jealousy I hear? And you even admit it. You do stalk me.”
“You look right here, Kuroo-san.” You smash your bag on the long table, dragging it until you were almost near the aisle. “If anyone is going to be labeled the stalker, it should be you!”
“Me?” He feigns shock.
“Yes, you. I’m not the one who leaves letters in a person’s notebook!”
“I thought you told Yakkun they were endearing?”
‘That fucking Yaku Morisuke is gonna pay’
Your face flushes for a second time in the whole afternoon. “I said they were handy as fans. And that’s not the point.”
He steps closer. Once, twice. Now, he’s less than an arm’s length away from you.
“I’m not the one eavesdropping on a confession.”
Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second. You already know what it was from the moment you saw him opening the door, but hearing him say it is a different kind of experience. One you feel on a normal basis because Kuroo Tetsurou is one hell of a Tokyo boy. A slight tug. The same kind of feeling as going through some turbulence in an airplane, just when you think you are about to crash.
“So,” you clear your throat, “what did she say?”
“What do you think people say on a confession, Y/N?” he tilts his head.
“Oh, stop being such a smarty pants.”
His eyebrows scrunch as he says, “And here I thought it’s one of my most interesting qualities.”
There is a silence as you figure out what to respond, and the look on Kuroo’s face didn’t help you in making a decision. His eyes seemed to glaze with an intensity you couldn’t find on him unless he was on the court. He was challenging you. You could feel it. Soon, the tension in the air was so palpable and thick it started to make you sweat. So you settle for an answer drunk-you would be proud of.
“What did you say?”
He smiles. “What do you think I said?”
You almost growl at his answer. “I’m not a fucking mind-reader, Kuroo.”
“Language, dear.” His winks.
‘And he winks. Someone needs to tell him his eyelid’s gonna fall off if he does it one more time’
At your lack of response, he sighs and holds his hands up in surrender. “Relax,” he looks at you with renewed interest, “I told her I already have someone calling me beguiling.”
Your chest puffs as you inhale a large amount air, hoping to suck the life out his hideous smile.
“You jerk!”
He doubles over in laughter, and you can’t help but get angry at him laughing at your expense.
“I’ll have you know that there are plenty of people who still use that word!”
He guffaws even harder and slaps the table animatedly while you were looking at him with eyes under furrowed brows.
“Oh! Put a sock in it, will you? Your laugh’s getting annoying now,” you supply as he continues murdering the table.
He returns to his natural height and towers over you. He’s still chuckling as he challenges, “Is it now?”
“Yes, so I’d appreciate it if you’d kindly close your mouth.”
“Ohoho? I don’t think you can make me.” He raises his eyebrow as leans closer.
You don’t know how it has escaped your attention, but Kuroo couldn’t be more than a few inches away from you now. Just enough so when you raise your hands, they’d fall quite comfortably on the large expanse of his chest that you so often wondered what it would feel like. Your butt hits the chair behind you, but you make no further move to retreat. His eyes are full of mirth at your position and the fact that you just took a step forward.
“Is that a challenge?”
“I always knew you love challenges.”
You want to bite, but willingly falling under his taunts would be tantamount to losing the game you’ve been playing since Celine Dion’s cameo. You weren’t that naïve.
He probably sensed your hesitation that came with the silence since he encourages you with, “Pretty please?”
You nearly scoff. ‘What a dork.’ You hear your heart pound and feel you blood pumping with excitement at this game of who caves in first.
Seeing as his plea got him nowhere, Kuroo adds, “Pretty please with a cherry on top?” He pouts and waits for your move.
You wait too. Wait until a little soul leaves him, and he resigns for the day. Wait until he gives up because you, too, want to feel the joy of teasing. Especially if it’s Kuroo Tetsurou.
‘Fuck this game. No one’s playing anymore.’
Just when he was about to withdraw, you grab hold of the collar of his shirt and stand on your toes. Your lips find his in a way that almost makes you cry from your inexperience. However, you feel him smile against your lips as one of his hands find your waist to pull you closer while the other goes to the crook of your neck to deepen the kiss.
‘Oh wow,’ was all you can think of.
His mouth molds into yours slowly, allowing you to test the waters. The kiss is all lips until his tongue darts out as he licks the bottom of your lips, and you become putty in his hands. His arms effortlessly support you the way your knees abruptly give out.
You begin to question how many people he has made out with because you don’t know if expertise like this was given out at birth. Meanwhile, your experience could be counted on a hand, so you are left to wonder if you are doing this right. Your insecurity is short lived as Kuroo mutters against your lips, “You’re amazing.”
It makes you smile.
You don’t know how long it lasts, it could have been an hour, a minute, hell, it could have been five seconds, and still, the only things you notice are the thumb that’s rubbing your back and the faint taste of strawberry. All you can think of as Kuroo retracts his hand on your neck to hold your chin as he pulls away is that his lips are swollen and that the kiss is finished too soon.
“See? Now that wasn’t so bad,” he says after a few seconds of catching his breath.
You both start to laugh, with his hands now both at your waist while you clench his shoulders that move along. You laugh until all the tension dissipates, and you let go of each other.
His skin is darker as the orange of the setting sunrays pass through the windows of the room. You could almost see the way you are reflected in his eyes, and you don’t know how but his hair is messier than normal. Those and his swollen lips make for a one beautiful Kuroo Tetsurou.
“Really? I don’t think so. Maybe it would be better a second time around,” you wink as you sling your bag on one shoulder and make way for the door.
You could hear him muttering under his breath, catching only “another” and “tease” in his statement. He falls back to grab something from inside his bag. However, he catches up in a jiffy and hands you a can of what you recognize as pineapple juice.
You stop and glare. “How about some strawberry next time? It tastes better.”
“Would you say it’s ‘beguiling’?” he says as he wiggles his eyebrows.
You sigh as Kuroo closes the door. “You’re never gonna let it go, are you?”
He grins, and you are weak.
“Nope. Nada. Never.”