Archive of Our Own

“Oh, crap,” Tooru curses out loud, eyes darting over the text he’s received from his older sister.

Dread seeps into his veins, heavy and loud. An unwelcome realization that he’s neglected the usual communication he has with his family. It’s one thing to avoid telling his family instances in his life that he wasn’t ready to speak to, but Tooru’s evaded it, completely – purposefully.

And forgetting his parents’ anniversary party while in this situation? A sour topping to a dish Tooru doesn’t want to serve.

Iwaizumi actually indulges him, “What is it?”

“It’s from my sister,” he reads the text message over and over again until his eyes hurt. “She wanted to remind me about my parent’s anniversary party.”

This is one of the many things Tooru hadn’t remembered to put into his calendar, but it’s more than that – it’s what his sister asks that brings reality crashing onto him, something he can no longer avoid.

“Oh, yeah, your mom invited me,” of course Iwaizumi was invited too, and for some reason, it adds another layer of complication to the matter. Iwaizumi turns back to his desk, nonchalant as ever, “What’s the deal? Did you forget?”

“Sort of, yeah, but – ” Tooru bites his bottom lip, afraid to continue, “she’s wondering if Kuroo’s coming.”

Panic rises in his chest, reluctant to look over at Iwaizumi, who stares at him as if he’s just confessed to quitting volleyball for life. And honestly, the reaction is warranted.

Iwaizumi raises an eyebrow in question, expression grim, “Did you not tell your family that the two of you broke-up?”

Desperate to get away from Iwaizumi’s scrutiny, Tooru tosses his phone to the side and falls back onto his bed, sighing, “Maybe.”

“Maybe?” Tooru winces at the harsh tone in Iwaizumi’s voice. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

There were reasons – though a far greater amount of excuses why Tooru never told his family. While his family respected his privacy, their overzealous curiosity in his dating life seemed to be one where they toed the line. He had never broken the news to them, and now it’s been months since Kuroo and him split.

“Iwa-chan, you know they love him…”

At the time, Tooru hadn’t expected Kuroo to hit it off with his family with such ease, but it wasn’t exactly surprising either. Kuroo could charm an entire room, if he wanted to, just as much as he could. He was relieved to see how seamless the introduction had been, how his parents were singing approval.

“If I had told them, I knew my parents would be asking me questions and trying to mend my broken heart,” he appreciates his family’s support – Tooru really does, but he has his limits. “And Hana would eventually start nagging at me and trying to set me up with someone new.”

Tooru expects that they would be disappointed to hear that he had broken-up with Kuroo. He doesn’t want to face disappointment just like he doesn’t want to face what led to the end of their relationship.

“Your sister is one thing, but yeah, your parents would be curious. I mean – you guys dated for like a year,” Iwaizumi frowns.

A year.

Tooru tries not to think of how fun that year was.

He whines, thrashing his limb around like a toddler throwing a tantrum, “Iwa-chan, what am I going to do?!”

“Tell them the truth.”

“I can’t!”

Iwaizumi groans, probably reaching his tolerance level when it comes to Tooru’s bullshit, “Seriously? What’s the big deal with telling them?”

Tooru stops his tantrum, body buzzing from the expended energy and opts to stare at the ceiling rather than Iwaizumi's probable glare, “I just – I can’t do it, Iwa-chan.”

There’s another aggravated moan from Iwaizumi, but thankfully, he doesn’t pester Tooru any further.

He reaches for his phone, unlocking the screen to stare at the text message once more. A number of possibilities swirl in his head, outweighing the outcomes and consequences. Tooru could arrive alone, lie and say Kuroo couldn’t make it due to a project at the university. There’s also the possibility of finding someone else to go with.

Tooru shakes his head to himself – no, that would only cause more questions and more concern, which is exactly what he wants to avoid.

In the end, he knows he should just be honest .

He knows that and yet –

“I’m gonna call him,” Tooru declares, firm in his resolution, even though the final idea that’s wiggled its way into his head is probably the worst option.

“Who?” Iwaizumi mumbles, disinterested.

“Seriously, Iwa-chan, have you been listening to me at all?” It only earns him an eye roll from Iwaizumi. “I’m going to call Kuroo.”

Unsurprisingly, Iwaizumi is quiet for a beat until he turns to Tooru, “I’m sorry, why?”

Tooru’s fingers fidget around his phone, slowly losing his resolve, “I’m gonna ask if he’ll join me for the party. Keep up appearances, you know? Whatever they say these days.”

He waits for the backlash, for the honesty that Iwaizumi always delivers.

“Do you know how shitty that is?” Iwaizumi’s eyebrows are pinched tightly together, mouth strained with tension and Tooru hates it. “Asking the guy you dumped to pretend you’re still dating. That’s pretty low, even for you.”

Hearing it from someone else feels like a truck that’s lost power of its brakes, hitting him at full speed with nothing but guilt. Tooru doesn’t feel an ounce of pride in this decision; it’s likely the most childish thought he’s ever had.

Tooru sighs, voice barely above a whisper, “He could say no.”

“And he should.”

Kuroo should, and Tooru knows that. It’s unfair. It’s awful and despicable, and yet some part of him hopes that Kuroo agrees to go along with his charade. Now, that’s just selfish. And Tooru knows he’s a selfish person, but he didn’t think he was this selfish.

He flexes his grip around his phone before pulling up his contact list, scrolling until his thumb lands over Kuroo’s contact information. Tooru’s not sure why he still has Kuroo’s number in his phone, especially since he was the one to end things. Though it’s still there, haunting him.

Well, a part of him knows why Kuroo’s number is still in his phone, but he hammers down the thought before it can come to a head – before he can dwell on it.

Tooru hops off the bed, phone cradled in his hand as he ignores all of Iwaizumi’s questions along the way. It’s once he’s in the hallway of his dorm that he selects the call option on Kuroo’s contact information and presses the receiver to his ear.

He wonders if Kuroo will answer, wonders if his contact information is still saved or if it appears as some random number.

It’s all so selfish and stupid, and Tooru nearly has a mind to hang up before there’s a sharp click.

Tooru’s breath hitches, winded.

“Oikawa?” It’s been so long since he’s heard Kuroo’s voice, and has been so formally addressed by him.

“Hey, Te – Kuroo,” Oikawa starts awkwardly, clearing his throat of all the mingling anxiety that threatens to surface. It was hard enough to not call Kuroo by the nickname he gave him early on in their relationship. “How’ve you been?”

Silence.

The silence eats at him until he’s raw.

This was a mistake. Iwaizumi was right.

He gnaws on his bottom lip, almost asks if Kuroo’s still there until there’s a deep sigh on the other end.

“Sorry, but I don’t think you called me to see how I’m doing,” naturally, Kuroo saw right through him, clearly obvious that Tooru has another motive. “What’s going on?”

Tooru, then and there, decides to hell with it all, “Are you free next weekend? It’s my parents’ anniversary party, and well, they still think we’re dating and I – ”

Kuroo is so quick to cut him off, “Wait, wait. You didn’t tell them we’re no longer together?” He can hear the obvious frown in Kuroo’s voice – can mentally see it.

“Yeah…” Tooru answers sheepishly. “It just – it kind of slipped my mind, okay?”

For Kuroo, there is no way he would believe such a stupid and simplistic reason. Breaking up with your partner after dating for a year doesn’t really slip anyone’s mind.

There’s another sigh over the phone, “I think I can hazard a guess here. You want me to come along and pretend we’re still dating, right?”

Tooru forces out a chuckle that hurts, “Bingo.”

Though Kuroo isn’t laughing, as to be expected.

He has to switch his phone to the other hand, palm too sweaty, “You don’t have to do this or give me an answer right now. But maybe, consider it?” Tooru hates how desperate he sounds.

The silence that follows is painful, awkward, “I’ll think about it.”

Tooru didn’t, despite all his selfishness, expect that answer, “Oh, you – yeah? Okay.”

“Right,” Kuroo says quietly, “Talk to you later.”

The line goes dead.

A sigh of relief rushes through him, and Tooru looks at the screen of his phone. A two minute phone call. Two minutes that brought back memories that Tooru has tried to bury over the past few months: lazy mornings at Kuroo’s place, dates at their favorite museums, the last time he saw Kuroo’s face.

Tooru frowns.

If he could hardly handle a two minute conversation over the phone with Kuroo, how the hell is he going to handle him in person – that is if Kuroo accepted his offer by some miracle.

Pushing off the wall, Tooru steadies himself with a deep breath before heading back into his shared dorm, only to find Iwaizumi waiting for him by the doorway.

“Iwa-chan, were you eavesdropping? How tactless of you,” Tooru jokes, a little self-conscious that Iwaizumi might have been listening the entire time.

Iwaizumi disregards his comment entirely, “He didn’t turn you down, did he?”

“Not exactly...he said he’ll think about it,” Tooru shrugs as he returns to his bed, plopping down onto it while Iwaizumi sits back at the desk littered with papers and books.

“I still don’t think this is a good idea,” Iwaizumi eyes him carefully, and Tooru has to turn away from him. “I know it’s impossible for me to stop you, but you should consider that this could end badly.”

Tooru knows that all too well.

There’s the possibility that Kuroo and him won’t look convincing at all, or they could potentially drop the facade by accident – by choice – in front of his family. Hell, Kuroo could expose the whole charade and let his family know how heartless of a man Oikawa Tooru really is. There’s the chance that Tooru’s resolve, which he’s carefully crafted over the months, will come crumbling down in Kuroo’s presence.

He knows the risks, but Tooru will take it.

The risks outweigh having to deal with countless relatives asking intrusive questions in regards to his relationship status.

And while he’s trying to sleep that night, Tooru receives a short text message from Kuroo:

i’ll do it

Curt and simple.

Tooru will get to evade all those questions from his family members.

He quickly sends Kuroo a simple thanks, along with all the details for the upcoming party.

He doesn’t try to think about why Kuroo is also up at three in the morning.

It’s spring in Tokyo.

The sun is high and warm, and while the weather might come as a good omen, it’s anything but for Tooru. The sun feels like it exposes him more for everyone to see him and his selfish plans.

Since the night he called Kuroo, he’s been nothing but painfully curious about him. He wonders what Kuroo is doing these days. If Kuroo is taking care of himself. Tooru’s thoughts are all Kuroo, and it’s similar to when they had just started dating, how his mind was always preoccupied with him.

Though Tooru doesn’t have the right to ponder over such things, let alone get answers, even if it’s the first time he’s seeing Kuroo since they split.

The train in front of him departs, and Tooru checks his watch. It’s nearly noon, and their train should be arriving soon. However, there’s still no sign of Kuroo.

Maybe Kuroo is going to stand him up, and honestly, Tooru deserves it.

Unable to sit still, he checks his watch again before biting one of his nails.

Five minutes to wait in suspense, left wondering if the train is on time and if Kuroo will actually show.

“Don’t bite your nails.”

Tooru jumps like a startled cat, nerves alight.

It’s a voice he wishes he didn’t recognize, but when Tooru turns, Kuroo is there at his side. At that moment, he takes in Kuroo’s appearance. He looks the same, albeit, Tooru can tell that Kuroo looks a little thinner since they last saw each other; briefly, Tooru wonders if he’s the culprit of that.

Despite not having confirmation, guilt crawls out from the pit of his stomach.

Tooru fixes him a blank stare, “You came.”

“I agreed to this,” Kuroo frowns slightly, facing the empty train tracks. “So I’m here.”

“Right,” he clears his throat, not sure what else to say.

Thankfully, the passing conversations and bustle of the train station fills the silence between them. Tooru is unable to stop himself from sneaking a look at Kuroo, but as his eyes wander, he notices that Kuroo is doing the same.

He snaps his eyes right back to the empty train tracks, heart hammering in his chest.

Kuroo shifts at his side, obviously uncomfortable, “It’s not like you to forget things, especially your own parents’ anniversary party. How’d you manage that?”

Tooru doesn’t have a reasonable explanation, “Like I said, it really slipped my mind.”

There’s an obvious question that hangs in the air: like how you forgot to tell your family we broke-up?

Thankfully, their train pulls into the station. They wait for the passengers to exit until shuffling inside and taking a seat. Tooru notices the distance Kuroo puts between them as they sit. Naturally, Kuroo isn’t going to lean into him anymore, let their thighs touch when they’re done and over and exes.

Exes.

Tooru shouldn’t think it’s odd, when he’s responsible and has had plenty of time to mull their current predicament over.

As the rest of the passengers settle, a voice blares over the intercom and their train slowly departs from the station.

It’s too quiet, and Tooru can’t sit in silence for the entire ride back to Miyagi.

He sighs, starting with something easy, hopefully, “What’ve you been up to?”

Kuroo stifles a laugh, eyebrow raised, “Are you asking because you hate silence, or are you genuinely curious?” It shouldn’t surprise him that Kuroo can still see right through him.

“A little of both, honestly,” he admits, meekly.

Tooru is painfully curious, but he’s also not a fan of long, awkward silences either.

“Same as usual, really. School and work,” he should have expected such a dull answer, but it’s not like his life has changed all that much either since they separated. “Volleyball, I presume?”

“Of course,” Tooru answers a little too proudly, too smugly. “You’ll be happy to hear that I have not sustained any injuries.”

What he doesn’t expect is Kuroo’s soft smile, eyes warm, “Yeah, I am.”

Tooru immediately turns away, tries to forget that smile and how it’s reserved for him – shouldn’t be reserved for him anymore. Instead, he looks past passenger heads’ and stares out the train windows. They’re blazing past the suburbs and buildings of Tokyo. Just then, Tooru feels a twinge of happiness upon returning to familiar territory. A place that isn’t as chaotic as Tokyo.

“Are you getting along with everyone?” Kuroo pulls him out of his stupor.

“I have a feeling you’re referring to Ushiwaka-chan,” Tooru deflates out of annoyance.

“Who else?”

He rolls his eyes, hearing a snicker beside him, “Don’t you dare laugh at me. You know he has the social skills of a rock.” His nose scrunches in disgust, “It’s hard to deal with.”

“Okay, okay,” Kuroo seems to have settled down from amusement. “Same as usual, then.”

Despite his overarching frustration, Tooru has been making efforts in regards to his relationship with Ushijima. It doesn’t mean his moments of frustration are tracking zero, but when that happens, Tooru always remembers the words of wisdom imparted on him by Iwaizumi and Kuroo. Frequently reminding himself that they’re teammates and no longer rivals, as driven into him by the both of them.

He’s getting used to it, in time.

Silence falls upon them, but it’s not the same as before.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, and Tooru pulls it out to see he’s received a text from his mother. He snorts at reading it but dread lingers. Tooru’s rather sure that his family is far more excited to see Kuroo rather than their own son.

“My family is gonna be happy to see you,” without thinking, the words tumble out of his mouth as he quickly lets his mother know that they’re on their way.

“It’ll be good to see them,” Tooru perks up at the comment, cautiously eyeing Kuroo. “I’ve always liked your family, still do.”

And Kuroo sounds so sincere.

Guilt rams into him once more to the point that his body aches.

Kuroo agreed to this, and is still fond of his family after everything that’s happened. Iwaizumi was right. This is an awful idea, one where he hardly considered Kuroo’s feelings at all. It’s so selfish that Tooru wants to burn on the spot.

Kuroo isn’t the type to lie, so for him to pretend that they’re still dating in front of Tooru’s family likely isn’t the type of weekend he’d prefer. Tooru realizes that Kuroo is doing this for his sake, when every rational argument says that he shouldn’t.

“Thank you for doing this,” Tooru blurts out in the midst of all consuming guilt, unable to look Kuroo in the eye. “I just – I haven’t been able to tell them that we – ” he gestures between the both of them, “my family can be so intrusive.”

For a moment, Kuroo is quiet, “It’s fine, Oikawa. I figured you had your reasons.”

Something subtle yet obvious rushes over him.

Weeks into dating, they never used to call each other by their last names.

“Tooru,” he pushes out with a heavy exhale. “You used to call me Tooru so – so you probably should for this weekend.”

“Right,” there’s this unbelievably found sigh from Kuroo. “Then you better use that silly nickname you gave me,” Tooru hates the smirk that Kuroo wears, reminding him of when they used to banter back and forth.

He sputters, “It was not silly, Tettsun. It’s cute!”

“If I was, like, a five year old. Then, maybe.”

He cannot help but scoff, “You liked it, don’t deny it.”

Kuroo hums, leaning against the overnight bag between them with an expression that Tooru can only describe as sentimental, “Yeah…”

Tooru did not expect to win this little bout of bickering, because they always used to push and push and never admit defeat. Though, that’s all in the past, and Tooru’s desperately trying to forget that at this moment. He struggles not to compare that to how they interact currently. Though he’s tasked with forgetting it while harboring on to the past for the sake of this weekend.

The train ride, although spent in some silence, goes by smoothly.

They don’t talk much, but Tooru expected that.

Once they reach their stop, Kuroo takes a deep breath as they step off onto the platform, “I’ve missed the mountain air.”

Tooru cannot help but rise to it, “Why do you think Miyagi is just so off the grid?”

Kuroo cackles, that god awful hyena laugh that draws attention everywhere, and instinctually, causes Tooru’s heart to burst, “I’ve only lived in the Tokyo prefectures. Miyagi is rural to me.”

“Oh my God, Tettsun, it’s not,” Tooru can’t believe how easy it is to slip back into the habit of calling Kuroo by the nickname he once held for him. “You wanna know what’s rural? Ushiwaka-chan brought the team to his family farm for a weekend. He convinced us it was for bonding – which does he have any concept of that? Anyway, that place was rural. It was all crops and chickens and tumbleweeds.”

“Wait, Miyagi has tumbleweeds?” Kuroo sounds genuinely surprised.

“Whatever,” Tooru waves him off. “Not all of Miyagi is rural.”

He adjusts his overnight bag over his shoulder with great gusto, annoyed at the memory.

Kuroo falls into step with him, “How come you never told me you went to Ushijima’s family home?”

“Oh, it happened after we – ” he bites his tongue, because Tooru doesn’t need to finish since Kuroo nods in understanding. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Kuroo quickly throws down any discomfort, “I get that you’ve done things since then. It’s not like I expected you to keep me updated on your life.” Despite the dismal delivery, there is a smirk on Kuroo’s lips, “Though I wouldn’t put it past you. You love talking about yourself.”

Tooru goes to make a swipe at Kuroo’s ankle, but he avoids it with ease even with the bag over his shoulder.

“Shut up,” he mumbles.

Miyagi is still, just as he remembers it, as expected. It’s quiet and peaceful, and high school students loiter in the streets at this time of day. Seeing them reminds him of his own high school years.

Even if Kuroo was joking, the air does feel different here. It’s not heavy and oppressive like the Tokyo skies and Tooru does miss it. He had been so positive that he wouldn’t miss home, because Tooru had been so sure on spreading his wings and experiencing a different city. Though there are things here he does miss.

As they walk, eventually, Tooru sees his house in the distance.

Curious, he peers over at Kuroo as they walk, “Ready to put your game face on?”

“Please, my game face is always on,” and Tooru rolls his eyes at the bravado of confidence.

Preparing his own bravado, Tooru climbs the stairs to his family home with Kuroo in tow. He can already hear the absolute chaos from behind the door, and like some stranger, Tooru knocks on the door as if he hadn’t lived there for 18 years.

The door opens in record time, and Tooru startles as he comes face to face with his older sister.

Hana fixes him with a bright smile, “Tooru, you made it!” Though her eyes trail behind him, a grin nearly breaks her face, “Kuroo-kun!”

She beams like the God damn sun and launches herself at Kuroo with a hug.

Immediately annoyed, Tooru’s eyebrow twitches, “Smile like that and you’ll get lines.”

Hana ignores the jab completely, “It’s so good to see you!”

“It’s good to see you too, Hana-san,” Kuroo is all but a gentleman in front of his sister, taking the suddenly outrageous hug well with a pat on the back.

Tooru turns with a pout, “Tettsun gets a hug but I don’t?”

Hana rolls her eyes playfully before rising to her tiptoes, kissing him on the cheek, “Welcome home, baby brother. Already making a fuss?”

He has no choice but to wave it off, even if he thinks he deserves a little affection from his family after being away for so long, “Is everyone here?”

“Auntie and Uncle won’t be here until tomorrow, but,” Hana starts to usher the two of them inside, “besides a few cousins, everyone else is here.”

And Tooru can tell just by the volume of the house. It’s never this loud unless the full round of his family is here from both sides.

The chaos comes to them as soon as they enter the house. Tooru and Kuroo are bombarded by most of his family members. A few cousins remember, and naturally, Takeru does. It’s his mother and father who greet Kuroo with such joy and surprise as if Tooru didn’t tell them that Kuroo was coming along for the visit. He doesn’t miss the firm handshake that Kuroo shares with father, doesn’t miss the welcoming hug that his mother gives him. 

In the midst of all the greetings, it’s the exchange between his mother and Kuroo that is too loud above all the ruckus.

His mother smiles, like it’s her own child, “I’m so glad you could join us. We haven’t heard from you two in so long. It’s so good to see you again.”

Kuroo returns her words with a tender, honest smile, “It’s nice to see you too. Thank you for having me.”

Tooru pretends that smile doesn’t make his entire stomach jump.

He feels sick.

“You’re always welcome, Tetsurou-kun.”

By some grace of the Gods, his father is the one to pull them out of conversation, “Tooru, why don’t you two get settled? Bring your luggage up to your old bedroom.”

Suddenly, he can breathe again.

Though now, Tooru realizes, this is a moment where their scheme should be played.

Tooru shifts through the crowded entryway to grab Kuroo’s hand, lacing their fingers together. It feels so familiar, so nostalgic – good.

No, he can’t think about it.

Beats those thoughts down even further, especially as he feels a flash of hesitation from Kuroo before it’s gone. Sure, it’s likely went unnoticed by the others, but Tooru feels it.

“Sure, we’ll be right back down in a moment,” he forces himself to meet Kuroo’s eyes.

A poor mistake.

There’s an obvious look of conflict in his eyes – one that’s torn between helping Tooru save face and where Kuroo’s true feelings are sincerely anchored. He looks away, unable to meet that gaze anymore.

The trip up the stairs is awkward, painful. It’s even more so once they’re alone.

Reaching his old bedroom, Tooru dumps his bag onto the end of the bed with a sigh. He hears Kuroo set his own bag down onto the floor nearby. It’s silent save for all of the chatter downstairs. Honestly, he’s thankful for this tiny reprieve no matter how tense it may be.

Tooru sinks down onto his old bed and lays out, comfort immediately envelopes him, “You handle my family better than me.”

Kuroo snorts, sitting next to him, “That’s because you’ve dealt with them for almost twenty years. I’ve only seen them a few times.”

And what a few times had done to leave an impression of his family.

“That’s why you love them,” he says to the ceiling.

“I think they love me more than you,” Tooru can hear the smirk in Kuroo’s voice.

“You think? I had no idea, Tettsun,” his eyes laze over to that overconfident look Kuroo wears, all smug. Tooru, if he was in his right, wouldn’t find that attractive. “Well, it’s probably because you’re the first boyfriend I ever introduced to them.”

Notoriously, he speaks without thinking, and it’s only been worse since he reconnected with Kuroo for the party.

Tooru watches as the smirk melts into a slack jaw. Maybe it’s the afternoon sun, but he thinks Kuroo looks a little red as well. It was stupid for him to say that, even if the words had just come tumbling out of his mouth. This is making things all the more difficult, especially for Kuroo, he imagines.

Though Kuroo, naturally, sees it as an opportunity, “Is that why you never told your family? Because I was the first?” 

Tooru cannot help but stare, trying to keep his carefully crafted facade in the midst of all of this unexpected reveal. As always, he runs, because that is easier to do.

Forcefully pushing himself to his feet, Tooru stretches out, “I’m heading down. You can join when you feel like it.” He doesn’t recognize his own voice – it’s devoid of emotion, flippant, as if he hadn’t just evaded a heavy conversation and left Kuroo hanging.

Tooru doesn’t wait for Kuroo’s response, unsure if he even has anything to say.

It weighs on him as he goes down the stairs and into the chaos of the living room.

His grandparents from both sides are here, along with most of his cousins. There are a few longtime, family friends to join the festivities as well. It’s enough to fill the small space with chatter and laughter. If there’s one thing Tooru is thankful for, it’s that both sides of his family get along. It’s always harmonious.

Tooru is unable to hold back a smile.

Takeru notices him first, eyes widening as he stalks over to him, “So, you showed yourself?”

“Why do you all act like I wouldn’t visit my family, huh?” Tooru lays it on him, ruffling Takeru’s hair that’s grown out over the past few years. “How’s my favorite nephew?”

“I’m your only nephew,” what a cheeky brat.

“You know that could change.”

Takeru, a typical kid, rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I doubt it.” It’s then he notices that Takeru has grown a few inches since he’s last seen him, “Where’s Kuroo?”

Tooru immediately mocks offense while silently still wrestling over the fact that his family are more thrilled to see his ex-boyfriend rather than himself. Though really, it’s not that much of a surprise.

“Are you even happy to see me?” He bemoans.

“Yeah, I am. Whatever,” and Tooru can’t really start calling him a brat when he’s still one. “But Kuroo is cool.”

Tooru scoffs without realizing it, holding his nose in the air, “Oh, please, Tettsun is hardly cool.”

“And I could say the same for you.”

An arm slides around his waist, and Tooru nearly bursts out of his skin from the contact. His eyes quickly dart to the side to see Kuroo smirking like they didn’t just have an awkward moment between them minutes ago. Tooru remembers he shouldn’t act so surprised, because this should be normal for them, after all.

Kuroo sighs loudly, gathering too much attention, “You’re way too invested in your alien and murder mystery podcasts.”

Before Tooru has a chance to argue, Takeru beams, “Kuroo!”

The grin Kuroo wears is way too taxing for his heart, “Hey, buddy!”

Tooru quietly watches the exchange between Kuroo and Takeru. 

The way Kuroo has always treated Takeru as if he was his own nephew is nothing short of sweet. Over the past year, Kuroo’s gone out of his way to help Takeru with homework, even taught him some blocking tricks at one point. If there’s one thing he’s learned, it’s that Kuroo is surprisingly good with kids.

He doesn’t listen to the rest of their conversation with his phone vibrating in his back pocket. Before he’s whisked away by another cousin he hasn’t seen in years, Tooru opens up the text.

It’s from Iwaizumi.

Iwa-chan

How’s your farce holding up?

so far so good. i’m an excellent actor as you know

Iwa-chan

Right, okay.

What about Kuroo?

tettsun’s fine i guess?

Iwa-chan

So he’s ‘Tettsun’ again?

Tooru stares down at his phone, clicking his tongue. He doesn’t need Iwaizumi perceiving him anymore than usual, especially now. 

The arm around his waist is suddenly tighter, and Tooru snaps back to the present, looking over at Kuroo with a frown, “What – ”

“Your Mom’s trying to get your attention,” Kuroo explains as he nods his head to the kitchen.

He follows Kuroo’s gesture to see his mother waving from the kitchen with a smile.

“Oh, guess she needs me,” Tooru says absentmindedly, still trying to forget Iwaizumi’s text. With a sigh he extracts himself from Kuroo’s side, and the loss of warmth is unpleasant. “The guest of honor here has to take his leave.”

Takeru groans at his display of self-importance, “It’s not your wedding anniversary.”

And he’s sure fucking right about that.

Tooru takes his leave, but not without sticking his tongue out at Takeru who is left huffing and grumbling. Kuroo can handle all of Takeru’s whining while he’s gone.

Navigating through all the family members and friends, Tooru finally gets to the kitchen and he can smell whatever’s cooking. It’s then he realizes that he’s missed his mother’s home-cooked meals. Having to eat at the dining hall more often than not, the food there is easily not the same as a meal made by his mother.

“Sorry to take you away,” she smiles, but Tooru can sense her guilt.

“It’s fine, really,” he flashes a grin, because honestly, Tooru’s relieved in a sense.

His mother motions for him to join her in the kitchen, “Could you help me for a bit? I got so caught up chatting with everyone that I’m running late on dinner. I’m cooking for an army tonight, you know.”

Tooru huffs out a laugh, “Sure, seeing as I’m the only one you could rely on.”

She may roll her eyes, “Your father and your sister are useless in the kitchen.”

While Tooru doesn’t consider himself an excellent cook by any means, he does manage not to burn everything he cooks unlike his sister, “Very.”

His mother instructs him at the kitchen counter, taking up the task of chopping vegetables.

Without thinking, he says, “Tettsun would’ve helped too.”

It’s then that Tooru realizes he hasn’t had any of Kuroo’s home-cooked meals in months either. The last thing he expected when they started dating was that Kuroo could cook. There were many times after some particularly rough team practices where Tooru would come over, complain, and then be soothed by a hot meal and gentle touches.

His grip on the knife tightens. It isn’t the time to be getting distracted.

“Oh, I know he would’ve jumped right in if I asked, but Tetsurou-kun’s our guest,” his mother says from the stove, stirring whatever is bubbling in the pot. “He’s always so quick to help.”

Perhaps, Kuroo is too helpful – too helpful to the point that he rushed in to save his ex-boyfriend.

Tooru swallows down another rushing wave of guilt.

Curious, he looks over his shoulder to find that Kuroo’s still immersed in conversation with Takeru along with his father.

“How have you two been?” Tooru snaps his attention back to what he should be doing. “I wasn’t able to ask earlier, and you haven’t mentioned much over the phone recently.”

There’s a very subtle hint of concern in her voice, but Tooru hears it.

What possessed him to think that lying the entire weekend would be easier? Because suddenly, his tongue feels numb. He doesn’t know what to say.

“We’re good,” Tooru begins, worried that his voice may wobble. “University work has kept Tettsun busy, that’s all. And you know I get distracted with volleyball.”

“At one point, I seriously thought you were going to marry a volleyball,” his mother levels him with a glare, and Tooru finds himself laughing. “I’m glad to see that you have someone now, and for so long, too.”

Yes, lying is hard, he thinks.

Disappointing his mother? Tooru bites the inside of his cheek, stares down at all the vegetables he has left to chop. Ultimately, this is why he didn’t want to share their separation. 

“Tooru?” She sounds concerned again.

He starts an easy rhythm with the knife, slicing through the onion evenly.

Quickly, Tooru turns on the false confidence as easy as breathing, chuckling, “Yeah, I’m surprised, but I’m sure he’ll get sick of me.”

And normally, his mother would chide him for speaking harshly about himself, but this time she hums, “I don’t think so.”

“What do you mean?” The question comes out immediately, curious.

“Well,” it’s his mother’s turn to look over her shoulder, eyes finding Kuroo, “I just don’t think that’s possible with Tetsurou-kun. He’s still so smitten even when you have your moments. Call it a mother’s intuition, and rather obvious observations.”

Tooru fights the urge to look back at Kuroo, keeps his head down and to the task.

Truthfully, Kuroo doesn’t run off so easily, and that’s what scared Tooru.

“It’s like your Dad and I,” she begins, wiping her hands off on a towel before checking the oven. “We both have our little intricacies, but here we are now. I think that’s happening for you.”

Tooru isn’t sure how to swallow his Mother’s words. As of now, her musings are nothing but dust in the wind being carried far, far away. When they were together, Kuroo was so patient with him it was almost frightening. Tooru had never dated anyone who had truly listened to him and carved out so much time for him. Even during his childish tantrums, Kuroo was still there and indulged him. Then in the moments where he was honestly struggling, sometimes unable to form words, Kuroo comforted him until his worries no longer felt so overwhelming.

And Tooru found himself giving back just as earnestly.

Kuroo notoriously teased and instigated, and yet Tooru remained despite how much of a pain in the ass he could be.

“You think so?” Tooru finds himself asking, voice just above a whisper.

It’s such a selfish and delusional question to ask.

His mother titters, hand gently patting his shoulder, “A mother’s intuition is hardly wrong.”

Tooru suddenly doesn’t know how to breathe.

The hand on his shoulder rests comfortably, “Oh, I’ve really distracted you now.”

He straightens, realizing his hand has become idle around the knife, “Sorry, looks like I’m not much help after all.”

“No, I think it’s time I shut my mouth,” and Tooru snorts at how blunt his mother can be, knowing that’s where he gets some of his attitude from. “Just keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll put in some elbow grease instead of running my mouth.”

Thankfully, it is the last of her observations and their work in the kitchen together is a synchronous harmony. 

His cousins wander in at times to chat and not so subtly ask when dinner will be ready. Kuroo tries to join in as well to offer some assistance, and his mother shoos him away quicker than Tooru can breathe. An easy laugh leaves him as he watches Kuroo sulk away and be at the mercy of his family.

Dinner is loud and a flurry of passing plates and exchanges. Throughout it, however, Tooru can hardly taste the food and it’s frustrating, considering he hasn’t had his mother’s cooking in so long.

By the end, Tooru stands in the kitchen and stares down at the carnage that is the dishes.

“Want me to help?” Kuroo pulls him from his thoughts on the daunting work.

“No,” he sighs, “you’re a guest.”

“But it’s a lot,” Kuroo gestures not only to the sink that is piled with dirty dishes, but also the nearby counters that are taken hostage by soiled pots and pans. “It’s no big deal.”

Tooru watches as Kuroo idly rolls up the sleeves of his shirt, muscle flexing. There’s a familiar, unwelcome tension that coils inside him from the sight. No, he admonishes internally; it is already horrible enough to invite his ex-boyfriend over and pretend they’re still dating, but to feel even a sense of lust? Tooru could kick himself if he could. Perhaps, he’ll ram himself into the nearest wall if need be.

“Absolutely not,” comes a very loud sigh from behind them.

At least that pulls Tooru from his indecent thoughts.

He turns over his shoulder to see his mother standing there with a frown, “You two go rest up and enjoy each other’s company. Your Father and Hana can tackle this mess.”

Kuroo is quick, testing her, “You sure? I really don’t mind.”

“Tetsurou-kun,” she starts, “go upstairs and rest and take Tooru with you.”

“Don’t talk about me as if I’m not here,” Tooru grumbles, annoyed with how intent she is to get them alone together.

Then Kuroo grabs his hand, and Tooru fights the urge to startle. He is the one to have suggested this charade, and yet he cannot fake it as well as Kuroo can. The warmth of Kuroo’s hand against his own is welcomed and also not. Tooru weakly squeezes back, feeling loath to lose that warmth.

So selfish.

“If you insist,” Kuroo flashes a smile that is entirely too bright, and Tooru can only stare in disbelief.

“I do,” his mother urges.

After bidding her a good night, they trickle through his remaining family members and ascend the stairs together. It isn’t until they reach his room that Tooru forces himself to release Kuroo’s hand. His palm itches, aches. He flexes it.

Tooru tries to shake off the lingering heat as he plops down onto the bed, exhausted.

“At least most of them have left,” Kuroo sits on the edge of the bed, plenty of space between them for now.

“Finally,” he sighs in relief.

Kuroo snorts, “You shouldn’t say that so casually. They’re your family.”

“Listen, they exhaust me. It would’ve been worse if I showed up alone.”

Kuroo, thankfully, decides not to comment.

Tooru opts to fill the silence by reaching for his overnight bag, searching for something to sleep in.

“Do you want me to sleep on the floor?” Tooru nearly chokes at the question.

He turns away from his bag, successfully having found the baggy t-shirt and shorts he usually wears to bed, “I’m not that heartless.” And maybe that would ring more true if he hadn’t dragged Kuroo into this situation. “Besides, it would raise questions if anyone decided to check in on us.”

Kuroo scratches at the back of his neck, “Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

It’s awkward when they both change into their respective nightwear, facing away from each other. He has half a mind to peer over his shoulder, but Tooru blasts that urge down like a service ace. Tooru slips into his bed first, only to regret the decision as he’s now trapped between Kuroo and the wall. Kuroo sticks to the edge of his bed, putting as much space between them.

“Goodnight, Tooru,” Kuroo’s voice is soft in the dark of his bedroom.

“Night…” he mumbles back.

It’s hard to fall asleep knowing Kuroo is right beside him. What’s even harder is resisting the urge to roll into Kuroo’s warmth.

Tooru feels himself drift onto the edge of consciousness, slowly pulling him awake.

He rarely sleeps through the night, too restless from self-imposed stress usually, so this doesn’t surprise him. His body feels heavy and warm – a little too warm. Tooru groans softly, tries to stretch out his limbs when he realizes he can’t. Confused and sleep-addled, he blinks, adjusts his eyes to the darkness of his old bedroom only to discover that Kuroo and him are wrapped around each other like vines.

His heart stutters. Tooru feels a surging panic, paralyzed.

He’s closely snuggled up to Kuroo’s front as if the spot was made for him. Kuroo’s arm is locked over his waist, warm and protective.

It’s too much.

Tooru does his best to extract himself without rousing Kuroo. Once free, he scoots impossibly close to the wall and turns toward it, staring at nothing. Heart beat loud in his ears.

That spot isn’t his anymore. He willingly gave it up.

Tooru curls in on himself, hoping his traitorous body won’t move anymore throughout the night as he tries to forget how soothing it was to be in Kuroo’s arms again.

It’s difficult falling back asleep, but at some point, he does.

When Tooru wakes later, he is the sole occupant of his bed. His muscles are sore from sleeping in such a cramped position. It’s past eight in the morning, and he’s sure everyone else is awake by now. Dragging himself out of bed, Tooru pads down the stairs and quietly heads to the kitchen.

Something inside his chest knots and twists uncomfortably when he sees Kuroo helping his mother in the kitchen with breakfast.

They’re standing side by side at the stove, talking. Meanwhile, his father and Hana are already sitting at the table with Takeru.

The way Kuroo fits in with his family is still remarkable.

He clears his throat, hoping to sound chipper despite the uneasiness that settles deep in his gut, “Morning!”

“Oh, Tooru, good morning,” she turns over her shoulder with a warm yet tired smile. “Tetsurou-kun and I just finished up breakfast. Why don’t you have a seat?”

Tooru nods, intends to join his family at the table, but he remembers the act he needs to play for this weekend to not arouse suspicion. Honestly, he’s been slacking, and Tooru wants to tune into this charade as seamlessly as Kuroo has done. It’s a familiar feeling – the need to one up Kuroo. Tooru walks over and rises to his toes to press a chaste kiss to Kuroo’s cheek.

It is Kuroo’s turn this time to pause.

“Morning, Tettsun,” he may coo.

He doesn’t miss the shiver that runs through Kuroo, eyes wide, and it’s a little pleasing – a horrible thought, “Yeah, morning.”

Tooru refuses to think more of it, joining his Father and the others at the table.

“Did you sleep well?” His mother asks as she begins setting down serving platters.

He remembers waking up in Kuroo’s arms earlier and is battling on whether he slept well or not. A warmth he used to embrace, felt so comfortable in, had eased his sleep and yet didn’t. It’s a troubling question to answer.

Though he’s been lying this whole trip, after all, “Just fine.”

And then Kuroo gets the drop on him, “He cuddled me all night long.”

Tooru wonders if Kuroo had been aware of their sleeping arrangement in the middle of the night, but Kuroo has always slept like the dead. It’s doubtful. More than likely, it’s Kuroo dancing along to the tune they’ve set for this weekend, and possibly, revenge for earlier. Regardless, Tooru’s cheeks heat and burn.

“Gross,” Takeru spits, which earns a laugh from the whole table.

“He’s right,” Hana affectionately throws her arm around Takeru who protests. “Leave a little to the imagination, won’t you, Tetsurou-kun? We’re trying to eat.”

Kuroo grins, a little mischievous, “Sorry, I’ll exercise some restraint.”

Tooru takes the bait like old times, pulling him right into the conversation, “As if you could.”

“You think so?” Smirking, Kuroo turns to him. “You wanna bet?”

“Only if you’re okay with losing.”

The exchange is reminiscent of when they were dating, even when they were just friends before. Momentarily sucked into the past, and Tooru hates that he wants to hold onto this moment. He pushes the desire deep down, someplace where he can never reach it again.

“Tooru?” It’s his mom.

He startles at the sound of his own name, realizing all of the attention at the table is on him. It must have been obvious that he was lost in thought, clearly falling away from the banter he had lured Kuroo into without finishing.

“Sorry!” Tooru recovers, forcing a cheery grin. “Maybe I didn’t sleep that well.”

Tooru doesn’t miss how his sister sends him a questioning look. It’s a little too seeing, and feels stripped of his skin, raw. He can deal with that later, and if possible, hopefully never.

Breakfast is a short affair.

It’s not long until Tooru is back in his old bedroom with Kuroo. They’re both busy changing for the party. Though one look in Kuroo’s direction as he’s trying to piece himself together has him huffing.

Tooru clicks his tongue, “What are you doing?”

Kuroo looks at him from the mirror, frowning, “Getting dressed?”

Rolling his eyes, Tooru strolls over and swats Kuroo’s busy hands, “You don’t need to button the shirt all the way to the collar. A looser fit is better. We’re not going to a funeral." He unbuttons the top few.

It feels as if he’s undressing Kuroo, and Tooru swallows back a heated rush.

Now isn’t the time – no, there isn’t a time for that anymore.

“Well, thank fuck for that,” Kuroo forces out a breath.

“Yeah, thank fuck,” Tooru mirrors with a snort. His eyes wander lower, and this time with just a discerning eye. “A belt. Wear one of my belts with your jeans. It’ll look good.”

Despite grumbling complaints under his breath, Kuroo loosely tucks in the bottom of his shirt and fits one of Tooru’s belts through the loops of his jeans.

They stand in front of the mirror as Tooru smooths down the front of Kuroo’s shirt, all too aware of his eyes on him. He fully takes in Kuroo’s appearance, air suddenly unable to fill his lungs. Tooru hasn’t seen Kuroo dress like this since one of their first dates.

It’s a fleeting look into the past that clenches around his thrumming heart.

“You look good…” Tooru mumbles, eyes unable to meet Kuroo’s.

There’s a quick, sharp inhale from Kuroo who seems ready to speak.

Immediately, he shuts down the possibility, “Ready?”

“Yeah, I’m ready,” comes Kuroo’s quiet reply.

They arrive at the venue early with his parents.

It’s a whirlwind of last minute preparations before family and friends begin to pour in. Then, there is music, drinks, and more food Tooru’s ever been surrounded by. Relatives that hadn’t arrived yesterday swarm him in due time, asking how his studies and volleyball are going. And even if some are distant relatives, they still ask him about Kuroo.

How strange, Tooru thinks throughout it all, that his presence is so tightly wrapped around someone else now.

Even though, it’s all a lie.

“Did you two have a fight?” His sister’s voice startles him.

At some point, Tooru had managed to withdraw himself from relatives and family friends to get a moment of reprieve. She approaches with two glasses of what must be champagne.

“Drink?” Hana offers one of the glasses to him.

Tooru takes it, looks down at the contents and can smell the fruity alcohol, “Tettsun and I?” He plays, cocking his head to the side. Hana gives him a patient nod. “Nope! Tettsun and I never really fight.”

They never fought. The closest thing to fighting they did was bicker. Even when Tooru had been the one to bring their relationship crashing down, not a single voice was raised.

Hana frowns before sending a glance out to the heart of the room, eyes landing on Kuroo, who is being held hostage by one of their aunts. Tooru really should go save him.

“You two just don’t look – ” she shakes her head, frown still twisted on her face, “close anymore.”

Tooru didn’t have any concern of appearing happy and at ease around many of his family members; however, his sister is similar to him. She’s got a knack for sniffing people out like himself, and it never came in handy when he was younger. It still doesn’t.

He forces a laugh, “You’ve had too much to drink.”

There is a painful jab to his side and Tooru hisses, “Not just today, but yesterday, too.”

Tooru takes a sip of his drink, hopes it numbs not just his physical pain. It’s bubbly and fresh and pleasantly burns the back of his throat.

“Did you have to force him to come?” Hana asks, “Is that why you two look so tense?”

“What? No!” Tooru scoffs, fumbling. “Tettsun really wanted to come. It’s just we’re – ” he bites his tongue, forcing words back down his throat until they settle uncomfortably at the pit of his stomach.

It’s too late, “Tooru?”

Tooru’s eyes find Kuroo, almost out of reflex. Thankfully, Iwaizumi has rescued Kuroo from his Aunt. The two of them are talking, and so casually. This is no improvement. He incessantly wonders what they’re talking about. After all, Iwaizumi is the only person here who knows they are no longer dating.

He lowers his head, unable to lie any further in Hana’s face, “Don’t say anything, okay?”

His sister steps closer, leaning in to hear him better, “Okay.”

Tooru swallows thickly, wishes he can even swallow up himself, “Tettsun and I, we’re not – we’re not dating anymore.”

There is a barrage of confusion across his sister’s face, “Then why are you here together – why did you bring him this weekend?”

“I never told our parents and you,” he sighs heavily, guilt nearly swallowing him and pulling him under like a ripcurrent. “I knew you would all go insane if I told you that we broke-up, because you love Tettsun. I didn’t want to face our parents questioning me like crazy, and you’d just try to set me up with someone else. So we’re pretending, for this weekend.”

Hana’s eyes flick between him and Kuroo every few seconds, “I know you loved him, Tooru. I wouldn’t try to set you up so quickly.” She sighs, and Tooru feels the weight of it. “I’ve got a lot of things I’d love to say to my idiotic little brother, but I’ll hold off.”

Tooru will take that grace, “Thank you.”

“Only because it’s our parents’ anniversary, and all of the attention belongs to them, not you.”

It’s a little sharp and jagged, but she has a point. At least, Hana is letting him off easy for now.

The drink in his hand is suddenly far too appealing, and Tooru takes one swift drink, downing the rest of his glass as it burns his throat.

“Why?”

“Why what?” Tooru frowns at her.

Her voice is so small, so quiet, “Why did you two break-up?” She almost looks hurt. Maybe, it’s because Hana has always told him that he can come to her in regards to anything, possibly hurt that Tooru didn’t trust her with this.

Tooru sucks in a sharp breath, eyes reaching out for Kuroo, but he’s nowhere to be seen, “It was my fault. That’s all, really.”

Hana huffs, “Kind of a crappy explanation if you ask me.”

“I ended it.” Tooru takes one look at his empty glass and sets it on the table. His palms are clammy and his stomach in knots. A sudden urge to run, to flee, to get away from prying eyes. He needs air. “I’ll be back.”

“Tooru – !” he hears her call, but Tooru ignores it.

His legs take him through the main room of the venue and to the door that leads to the garden. It’s breezy and warm as Spring prickles against his face. The knot in his stomach curls up to his throat, latches there, and Tooru is sure he’ll vomit. Though there’s nothing when he collapses onto the pavement. Knees curled into his chest and his breathing rapid and uneven. The knot in his throat loosens itself, freeing his airway.

Sitting on his heels, Tooru smooths his sweaty palms on the front of his pants.

He finally told someone in his family.

It’s jarring to know that someone is here and seeing past the facade he’s crafted.

Tooru hadn’t expected anyone to ask, and yet Hana is always so perceptive to the point that he hates it. If anyone would have noticed, it would be her.

“Why’re you having a staring contest with that bush?”

It’s a familiar voice – one that doesn’t curdle his insides into mush.

“Iwa-chan,” his voice comes out raspy, breathless. “You’ve come to keep me company.”

“Not really. Your sister asked me to check on you,” Iwaizumi nudges him with his shoe. “Well, you’re still alive and breathing.” Tooru wants to say something, anything, tell him that he’s a rude brute but nothing conjures. The silence is enough to confirm whatever suspicions Iwaizumi may have, “You told your sister, didn’t you?”

His stomach twists once more, “Maybe.”

Iwaizumi sighs loudly before sitting down next to him, “What did she say?”

“I didn’t say all that much,” it’s the shortest he’s ever been with his sister. “But I think she’s upset that I never told her.” Iwaizumi only grunts in reply, and he whines again, unable to handle that his sister is upset with him. “Hey, Iwa-chan, what were you and Tettsun talking about?”

Tooru doesn’t like that Iwaizumi has suddenly gone quiet, very uncharacteristic. It allows him to make out the sounds of the party he dashed out of – a party he is loath to return to.

“We just talked, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi shrugs, too casual for Tooru’s liking. “I got along with him, too, you know? Well, after I managed to look past that weird hair of his and shit-eating smirk.” 

That pulls a snort out of Tooru. When they were just friends, Iwaizumi had tolerated Kuroo in more ways than one. Kuroo isn’t the type to hide his cunning personality, and frankly, that was quite like a punch in Iwaizumi’s face. However, as time went on, the waters settled between them and it was as harmonious as it could be.

Iwaizumi speaks once more, pulling Tooru from his thoughts, “I wanted to know what he was up to these days, and he wanted to see how I was doing.”

He gnaws at his bottom lip, curious, “Did you two stop talking when we broke-up?”

“Kuroo said I shouldn’t talk with him.”

It’s like an anchor sinking to the bottom of the ocean that sits on his chest, “What? Why?”

Iwaizumi shakes his head with a laugh, “Kuroo said it would be weird for you. Listen, he was thinking of your feelings even after the two of you split.” Tooru doesn’t want to think too much about that. “He’s wasted on you.”

Kuroo is wasted on him.

Tooru knows that.

Knows that so much that his chest aches, and he wants to burst out of his skin.

Kuroo could be anywhere right now, and yet he’s here accompanying his ex-boyfriend just because Tooru couldn’t summon the strength to tell his parents of their current relationship. The best thing he ruined because their son was insecure.

Iwaizumi’s hand on his shoulder startles him, “Let’s head back.”

“Do we have to?” Tooru nearly wails.

“Yes.” Iwaizumi says sternly. “Especially you. You’re their son, and you should take notes while you can. Try to follow your parents' example of love.”

He sticks out his tongue, “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, standing. “C’mon, you idiot.”

“Iwa-chan, only an idiot would call someone else an idiot.”

“I can’t kill you when your parents are expecting you,” and Iwaizumi halls him off his feet to standing. “They’ll be disappointed.”

“Just a bit,” he jokes, feeling a little lighter than earlier.

Iwaizumi eyes him in a way that makes Tooru’s skin crawl, “I know the two of you aren’t together anymore but, something is still there, Oikawa.”

Tooru knows it.

Knows it better than anyone else as he’s been floundering this weekend.

He looks past Iwaizumi, past the garden and through the windows to only see Kuroo.

He knows.

Tooru knows and yet his entire being shivers with doubt, with hope, a dangerous curdling of emotions that he can’t have.

“I know,” Tooru says, resolute, cannot stave off the tremble in his voice. “Iwa-chan, I know.”

The lights are off, but Tooru can’t sleep.

He wants to toss and turn, and then toss and turn some more again but he doesn’t want to disturb Kuroo after such a long day. His head is elsewhere, far away from sleep nor the relief of returning to Tokyo tomorrow.

It’s all Kuroo.

The way Kuroo had smiled and congratulated his parents. Kuroo dancing with sister at the party. Kuroo holding his hand and kissing his cheek for show. The way Kuroo looked at him when his relatives wished the two of them luck.

Kuroo, Kuroo, Kuroo.

He draws in a shaky breath, heart pounding and pulse loud in his ears. Closing his eyes, Tooru hopes that it takes everything away, but it doesn’t.

“Tooru.”

He startles, not expecting Kuroo to still be awake.

Tooru tries to answer coolly, like he’s on the verge of sleep, “Y-Yeah?”

The bed shifts, blankets tugging and pulling and Tooru realizes that Kuroo’s now facing his back.

Kuroo’s voice is just about a whisper, “How come you never told me why you broke up with me?”

Tooru figured that Kuroo had seen through his lies, back then and even now, “I told you.”

“No, the real reason,” Kuroo remains persistent, confirming his suspicions. “The truth.”

Every instinct that wraps around him says not to move, and despite that hesitation, Tooru turns over so he’s facing Kuroo. It’s a mistake. Kuroo’s expression is soft and yet so hurt, and the guilt creeps in once more knowing he’s caused all of that. The way Kuroo gazes at him through the darkness is not how one would regard an old significant other, not a friend or acquaintance, no – Kuroo is looking at him with curiosity buried with love.

Tooru’s mouth goes dry.

This is too much. He can’t do this – not after months of stilling his resolve to move on and keep everything a secret – 

“Tooru,” Kuroo prompts once more, reaching out to brush away the stray hairs from Tooru’s face.

His chest aches, every inhale burning his lungs.

When Tooru can finally speak, his breath is shallow and trembling. “I – ” he wavers. “I was scared, Tettsun. I was so scared that I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Kuroo frowns, “Scared of what?” Tooru shakes his head, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please, tell me, don’t you owe me that much?” Kuroo deserves it. Kuroo deserves so much more than him, especially after he ran away because of his own selfish reasons.

Tooru forces his eyes open, “I got too comfortable and too – too afraid that it’ll all end soon. I couldn’t handle it if you broke up with me for some reason – that I’d be left alone again after knowing how well you treated me and I – ” he notices the warble in his voice, how tight his chest is and the cavern slowly opening beneath him. “I – I thought it’d be better if I did it first.”

Over a series of days, Tooru panicked.

He had never been the one to end his relationships. There was always a reason from the other party – that he focuses too much on volleyball, that he can be childish and whimsical, that his emotions were too much for one person.

There was always a reason.

Tooru seemed to be the reason, loud and clear.

And he could not handle being on the eventual receiving end of their break-up with similar words from Kuroo, despite how desperately his rational mind tried to claw back at the insecurity. They were fine, everything was as smooth as a lake at dawn; though Tooru convinced himself that one day, it would slip right through his hand.

“You panicked all by yourself?” Surprisingly, Kuroo is calm, voice quiet.

Tooru nods as a knot winds tighter in his throat.

“Did I give you the impression that I was getting sick of you?”

The question is so raw and honest as if Kuroo wonders where he went wrong.

He swallows down the knot, “No…”

“Because I could never get sick of you, Tooru,” and his breath hitches. “We only dated for a year, so I guess I can understand if you were still feeling insecure. But seriously, you have no idea how many years I wanna spend with you.”

Oh, and something unfurls inside of his chest and Tooru bites back a sob.

“How are you so – ” Tooru hiccups, fighting back tears, “how are you still so calm after hearing all that?”

Kuroo huffs, small and light with a smile, “Because I fucking love you so much.”

He crumbles at those words, letting a strangled cry free, “I’m sorry – I’m so, so sorry.”

Kuroo reaches out, thumbing away his tears and the warmth of Kuroo’s palm is so familiar and so missed, “Why’re you apologizing?”

“Because I acted like we were nothing when I dumped you,” he starts. “Because I dragged you on this stupid trip ‘cause I didn’t want to talk to my family. And because I – ” the confession lingers in his throat, and for once, his heart is willing to let it all go. “I love you, Tettsun. I still love you so much and I hurt you.”

The softness of Kuroo’s palm remains on his cheek, and then he leans, kissing Tooru with a tenderness that he’s never felt before.

And Tooru devours it, shifting closer to Kuroo as their lips continue to meet. Kuroo kisses him like they’re making up for lost months and promising for the months to come. Like he’s telling Tooru to let go. It’s electrifying, a sparking pleasure that wraps around his veins.

Air rushes into his lungs as their lips part, noses touching and breath intermingling.

“I’m sorry…” Tooru breathes, “I’m so sorry.”

Kuroo shuts him up once more with a kiss and Tooru drinks it in again. It’s so good. It feels so good to be kissing Kuroo again. He’s so lucky to have someone as forgiving and patient as Kuroo, to have someone who doesn’t rage over his insecurities and the mistakes he makes over it.

It’s so nice it’s frightening.

And his body winds taut with tension.

Gently, Kuroo eases from his mouth, breath hot, “What’s wrong? I can feel you thinking.” Nothing ever gets past him.

Tooru worries his bottom lip, “It’s – I feel so happy that it’s terrifying.”

“Then talk to me, just like you should’ve back then,” Kuroo sighs, pulling him so close that they’re flush, breathing against each other’s necks. “I won’t know if you’re feeling this way if you don’t tell me, Tooru.”

“I’ll tell you…” he mumbles into the heated skin of Kuroo’s neck, holding him tightly. “I promise.”

Tooru wants to promise so much to the point he aches.

He can no longer have his past creep in and affect the one good thing he has.

“Ah, fuck, Tooru,” the words are so hot against his skin, searing him. “I’m never gonna let you go again.”

“Then don’t,” he shifts, sitting up just enough to see the heat on Kuroo’s cheeks – a beautiful red that Tooru wants to kiss all over. “Even when I’m annoying or old and ugly, don’t let me go.”

Even in the darkness, he can see the smirk that blooms across Kuroo’s face, “That sounds like a promise for life.”

His stomach jumps, twists and turns until Tooru feels it in his chest, “Maybe, it is…”

For once, Tooru feels like he can keep a promise so strongly that it burns inside him.

He leans forward, capturing Kuroo’s lips again until the heat of their bodies melt into one.

It’s as they’re saying their goodbyes in the morning that Hana pulls on him.

“Ow!” Tooru whines, though it doesn’t distract his parents’ doting over Kuroo. “What?”

“Did you two talk?” He can tell she’s trying her hardest to keep her voice down. They’re the same in that respect. “There’s something different.”

Well, she did notice an apparent shift between Kuroo and him since they arrived. It makes sense that she was able to snuff out the difference in their relationship from last night compared to this morning. A shiver violently runs through Tooru.

She’s truly frightening.

“Something like that…” Tooru bites his bottom lip, suppressing a smile that threatens to surface.

Hana’s eyes dart all over his face before smirking, and another chill runs through him, “Yeah, something like that.” She pokes at his neck and Tooru winces. It’s tender and sore, and that’s just when he realizes what Hana’s noticed. His cheeks flame. “Just talking doesn’t fix everything.”

His hand quickly covers the side of his neck, “Stop it!”

There’s zero remorse on her face, “So?”

“So, what?” He is loath to amuse her.

“So is my baby brother back with the best boy he ever brought home?”

Tooru’s heart stutters.

His eyes wander and land on Kuroo, who is still insisting to his mother that they don’t need four tupperwares of leftover food sent back with them. The smile Kuroo wears is still genuine as ever, but there’s more of an ease to it compared to the beginning of the weekend.

He sighs, light, nearly floating, “I never wanted him gone in the first place…”

“Hold onto him, Tooru,” he snaps his gaze back to Hana, and she is nearly wearing a look of pleading, desperation. “How much Tetsurou-kun loves you is really something special.”

His eyes find Kuroo again, and this time, Kuroo is looking at him guilty while balancing two boxes of leftovers from the party. There is a silent look of pleading that’s wrapped with affection. Tooru’s chest becomes tight again like he might burst out of his skin, blooming with fondness and the itch to touch him again.

Why, Tooru asks himself, did he let his insecurities get the best of him? He’s wasted months not being within Kuroo’s grasp.

Tooru so desperately wants to rectify that.

“Yeah…” Tooru barely breathes out, heart so light. “I know.”

His gaze is interrupted as his mother steps in front of him, “Tooru, you two should really come around more often when you’ve got the time.” There’s an impossibly bright smile he can’t go against, “It’s been nice.”

The nod he gives is without hesitation, “We’ll try.”

Honestly, Tooru wants to have Kuroo join him on every visit home in the future, if he wants to. There is a next time, and knowing so blooms such a warmth in him. It almost feels wrong to be this happy when there’s still so much left they need to discuss.

It takes nearly twenty minutes to get out the door, and Tooru’s met with a cool spring breeze.

They walk closer compared to when they first arrived over the weekend, and every brush of Kuroo’s knuckles against his own is as warm as the sun. Despite being in public, Tooru does not care, itches to touch the person he’s missed so much due to his misforgivings. Gently, his finger wraps around one of Kuroo’s. It’s small and featherlight and yet Tooru preens.

And Kuroo makes a small noise of dissatisfaction. Briefly, he’s worried, until Kuroo unlocks their fingers to grab the whole of Tooru’s hand, squeezing.

He gets lost in the feel of Kuroo’s thumb brushing along his knuckles. Their walk to the train station is nothing but a flash when he realizes they’ve reached the platform.

“My sister knew all along,” Tooru finds himself saying.

The thumb that traces his knuckles briefly pauses before resuming, “Well, it is Hana-san.”

He turns to Kuroo, smirking, “And she noticed the hickey you left on my neck.”

Kuroo at least tries to appear shameful, so cute and annoying all at once, “Listen, it was a little hard to hold back when I finally got to touch the guy I’m in love with after all these months.”

Tooru lets that slide, because truthfully, he’s more than happy for people to know that he belongs to someone – to Kuroo, “She’s happy for us.” He swallows, looking at their conjoined hands, “I’m happy…”

“Tooru,” Kuroo’s voice is so quiet, heavy. Hesitantly, he returns his gaze to Kuroo, who has a brilliant shade of pink dusted across his cheeks. “Thank you.”

“Idiot…that’s my line,” Tooru feels his bottom lip wobble, refusing to let his emotions get the better of him. “You could’ve not taken me back.”

Kuroo’s laugh lifts his heavy heart, “Like I’d let you go twice, hell no.” He watches the moment his boyish smile slowly twists into a smirk, “And how could I not after such a proposal?”

Tooru's cheeks color, remembering his words last night – how he practically promised himself to Kuroo for life, “Shut up!”

“Nah, can’t do that when I didn’t properly respond,” and that’s silly because Kuroo had answered in his own way, through touch and through the melting heat of his body that it nearly burned Tooru. Kuroo raises their hands, his lips brushing over his knuckles and Tooru’s breath hitches. “I definitely still want you when you’re old and ugly.”

The Spring breeze picks up, swirling through the platform enough for it to ruffle Kuroo’s unruly hair. It tickles the bare skin of Tooru’s arms and his cheeks that fizzle with warmth. The sun is warm, too, but Kuroo is warmer, brighter. His heart beats loudly against his ribcage, as if it wants to physically offer itself to Kuroo.

Tooru swallows, cracking a smile, “Romantic. Where’d you get that from?”

“Only the best,” Kuroo’s lips move along his knuckles, soft and breath warm.

“Insufferable.”

“Imagine how much worse it’ll be when I’m old and ugly?”

He doesn’t think Kuroo will lose his looks anytime soon, but his scheming personality? That’s never going away.

Tooru huffs out a laugh just as hears the train screech into the station, “Our train’s here.”

Kuroo finally lowers their hands and turns toward the tracks, “Sure you don’t wanna stay another night?”

“Positive,” a chill runs down Tooru’s spine. “Most of my family are still in town.”

Kuroo and all his teasing eventually relents. They haul themselves and their bags onto the train, taking a seat away from the bulk of the passengers likely headed to Tokyo. Compared to the beginning of this weekend, Kooru’s thigh is flush against his own – a comfortable warmth. Tooru allows himself to lean into it.

Miyagi prefecture is a blur against the train windows.

Tooru remembers that it was just days ago that he had hoped to see this scene sooner rather than later, praying for the train ride home once the weekend was over. Though now he’s savoring the extra time with Kuroo, doesn’t want to part from him once they arrive in Tokyo.

And Iwaizumi had every right to imagine how badly this weekend could have ended, yet here he is with Kuroo’s hand wrapped tightly around his own.

He’s unable to stifle his laughter, “I’m gonna need one more favor.”

“Oh?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow, curious, but already so very keen.

“Iwa-chan was certain that this weekend was gonna end terribly,” the devious light in Tooru’s eyes reaches the mirth of Kuroo’s. “I think I’ll need help rubbing it in his face.”

Kuroo, never one to hesitate on provocation, smirks, “I think I can help with that.”