Chapter Text
Kuroo Tetsurou, age 28, was a lot of things. He spent his days as a pharmacy technician. He was a year and a half away from having his PHd in organic chemistry. He was a little on the lanky side despite all the time he spent in the gym. He would live off of grilled salt mackerel if he could. He spoiled his cats rotten. He cried when he watched romantic comedies. He appreciated nice things. He was, however, not a fan of jazz. He had explained all of this to his good friend Daichi, who had reserved Kuroo a seat at a gig he was playing the following night at a jazz club downtown.
Daichi, on the other hand, didn’t care about what Kuroo was a fan of. “I don’t care about what you’re a fan of, Kuroo,” he said while packing his things for rehearsal, “You’re going to the gig.” Kuroo inhaled a deep sigh and let out an annoyed groan, which Daichi ignored. He grabbed his keys from the little dish next to the door and stashed them in his pocket before hauling his bass case onto his back.
He turned towards Kuroo before he left, and Kuroo hoped that the softening of Daichi’s features meant he had changed his mind, and Kuroo wouldn’t have to go to the concert. “Don’t hang out in my house after I leave, it’s weird.” Then the door closed.
Kuroo groaned again, and grabbed his bag from the other end of the couch he had been sitting on. Daichi’s apartment was in the same building as his, a few floors below, which guaranteed frequent visits from Kuroo. They were so frequent that Kuroo had a spare toothbrush and a couple pairs of shoes lying around the place. He walked towards the door and noticed a pair of worn down hiking boots that belonged to him, nestled between a pair of Daichi’s dress shoes and a pair of sneakers that belonged to Daichi’s boyfriend, Sugawara. He made a mental note to bring at least some of his things home soon, and walked out of the apartment, locking it behind him with the spare key that Daichi had given him.
His own apartment was the same general layout as Daichi’s, although much more cluttered and dusted with an infinite layer of cat hair. He tried not to trip over his cats on his way to the kitchen as they wove in between his legs. After setting out their food and refilling their water bowls, he went into his bedroom and threw himself face down onto his bed.
Kuroo woke up to the feeling of two well fed cats settling on top of his upper back. He glanced at his phone and was immediately reminded that it was Saturday, which meant that Daichi’s concert was later that night. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and looked more carefully at the time. It was only ten in the morning. Kuroo decided that sleeping in a little more would be just fine. His cats moved from his back when he shifted to his side and snuggled into the space behind his bent knees. The cats purred softly as they began to sleep, and Kuroo fell asleep again.
***
He jolted awake to the sound of voices outside his bedroom door. “I told you he’d be asleep,” Daichi said. Kuroo turned onto his back and looked up at Sugawara and Daichi standing at his door. Daichi had his bass with him. Before Kuroo could say anything, Sugawara spoke.
“I never said he wouldn’t be,” he said, walking over to Kuroo’s bed. He looked Kuroo in the face before sighing. Kuroo sat up and rubbed at his eyes.
“Fuck, what time is it?” he asked. As much as he didn’t want to go to the gig, he wasn’t about to sleep through something important to his friend.
“Relax, it’s only five. Daichi just has to be there early for sound check and all that,” Suga responded. Daichi nodded beside Suga and turned to leave.
“I think you’ll like the show. Our sound is pretty solid, and the set we’re playing is fun,” he called from the front door. Then he was gone, leaving Kuroo and Suga alone.
“I know he’s acting all cool, but he’s really happy you’re coming,” Suga said. “We both are.” Kuroo smiled softly at that and shooed Suga into the living room so he could get dressed.
An hour later, Suga and Kuroo were on the way to the venue. Suga had insisted that Kuroo “look nice,” which Kuroo scoffed at. In the end, he wore a blazer over a button up shirt and some black jeans. Suga wanted him to wear slacks, but Kuroo didn’t own anything even remotely resembling slacks, so he allowed Kuroo to wear jeans. Kuroo had grumbled about how Suga wasn’t his mother, but deep down he was glad that Suga cared.
The train ride was uneventful. So was the walk down the street to get to the venue. Suga paid for both of them to enter, and they showed their IDs to the bartender inside. The concert itself was taking place in a back room, but they weren’t allowed to enter until the band was ready for them. Kuroo ordered himself a mojito and sat at a small table with Suga.
They managed to have a short conversation about what they were both doing at work before people started shuffling into the back room. The band was already set up on stage. Suga led Kuroo to a pair of seats with a small table in between that were in the third row. Kuroo was happy that he wouldn’t have to be directly in front of the stage, because he was sure that would be bad for his hearing. He didn’t know much about jazz, but live music in general took a lot from a person’s ears. They set their drinks down and settled in for the show.
In the front row of the stage sat a row of five guys with saxophones. The one on Kuroo’s right looked like an absolute beast to carry, it was so big. He looked at the slip of paper that sat on his table and noted that it was a list of band members. Hanamaki Takahiro, Baritone Saxophone was printed. So that’s what that instrument was, Kuroo thought. He didn’t know that there was more than one kind of saxophone.
He scanned the list and noted where it said Sawamura Daichi, Upright Bass. Daichi was listed under a bolded heading that said “Rhythm Section.” Kuroo didn’t know what that meant, but there was only one bassist listed, so he supposed that that meant that Daichi was good enough to be the only guy playing his instrument in the whole group. He looked up at the stage and saw Daichi standing in the crook of a grand piano, next to a drum kit. The guy at the piano looked like he was going to fall asleep on the keys, while the guy at the drums looked like he knew all of Kuroo’s secrets and would only keep them under wraps for a high price. Akaashi Keiji, Piano. Oikawa Tooru, Drums.
Before he had time to look at any of the other names, Oikawa started playing. He hit out a latin sounding beat that was heavy on the bass drum and cymbal. Akaashi pressed a chord softly into the piano and Daichi began plucking at his bass. Kuroo expected the entire band to begin, but a split second later, he heard the sound of just one player. It was a guy in the middle of the second row of the group. He was holding a bendy brass instrument, maybe a tuba? Kuroo wasn’t quite sure, but his sound was high and clear and it caught his attention immediately. The guy slid up into the main notes of the melody while the rhythm section backed him up. They were supporting him, accentuating the contour of the melody from all angles. Akaashi pressed out chords in a basic rhythm that flowed with the direction of the music, while Daichi plucked out a line that drove it all forward. All while Oikawa tapped on the rims of a drum and, sporadically, a cowbell.
Just as the main melody ended, the rest of the band joined in. The guy who had been playing was suddenly harmonizing with a few other members, while the rest played a counter to the original tune. It was the kind of opposition that didn’t feel like it should work, but it did. Kuroo kept his eyes locked on the guy who had played at the start. He was shuffling from foot to foot lightly, like he wanted to dance but knew he had to stay in one spot. Something like that made Kuroo want to grin like a fool, but he kept his cool and sipped his drink. As the song continued, Kuroo found himself tapping his fingers to the beat Oikawa was drumming on the rim of his glass.
It felt like an eternity before the band reached a final chord, the tinkling of the piano matching their change in volume. But, it was an eternity that Kuroo found himself enjoying. Kuroo turned to Suga, so he could say something about how that really wasn’t all that bad, but Suga was beaming up at Daichi and Kuroo didn’t want to break that trance.
In the pause between songs, Akaashi got up from the piano and walked to a microphone that was on the edge of the stage. “That was Blue Bossa, featuring our lead trombone player, Bokuto Koutarou.” His voice was deeper than Kuroo thought it would be, but it sounded gentle. “Up next, we have the Maynard Ferguson classic, Birdland.” It was a fitting title, Kuroo thought. Many of the band members looked pretty birdlike from where he sat. Especially the guy who had caught his attention earlier. Bokuto. He was practically radiating joy from where he stood on the stage, and Kuroo couldn’t help but stare at him.
He was so busy staring that when the next song started, he jolted in his seat. Suga giggled at that, but, to be fair, the song opened with some loud high notes coming from the trumpet section. Once that riff calmed down, Daichi picked up a bass line along with the guy standing at the end of Bokuto’s row. Oikawa clicked the hi-hat to the beat along with them. That riff continued under the melody that Bokuto and the guy standing next to him began with. He tried to think of how to describe it, and all he could come up with was “jaunty,” which made him feel like an old man. As they continued, the saxophones to the left began adding little interjections that carried the whole thing forward, while continuing to add harmony to the tune.
Then, the trumpets came in again and gave Kuroo his second heart attack of the night. He didn’t know much about instruments, but from what he had gathered, playing that high, that loud had to hurt. They hit a bright sounding chord which faded away into a little piano line that was the same as the bassline Daichi had played earlier. Kuroo fixed his eyes on Bokuto. He wasn’t playing at the moment, but Kuroo still looked only at him. Bokuto was smiling from his spot on stage and it made Kuroo want to scream, it was so cute.
He didn’t get the chance to, though, because the trumpet player standing behind Bokuto began playing. His melody was like a call out to the rest of the group. The trombone player at the end and the guy with the huge saxophone, Hanamaki, responded with a sustained low note. This repeated until Akaashi cut in on the piano, which led to the trumpet player letting out a tune that was somehow even jauntier than the first. Then Bokuto joined in with the saxophonist sitting in front of him. Something about the way their sound mixed together made Kuroo want to down his drink and start dancing. He decided to only do the former, and he waved the waitress who was making her rounds across the room over to him so he could order another.
He didn’t want to get fucked up, but something about the warm feeling of the alcohol made him relax enough to get lost in the music. The song continued, and Kuroo felt like his heart was beating in time with Oikawa’s drums. It ended with the trumpet player from before deviating from the melody that the rest of the group was playing, belting out notes that were incredibly high. The whole time, Bokuto danced along to the music while he played. Kuroo got the feeling that if he wasn’t playing an instrument, he’d be grinning from ear to ear.
The song ended, and Akaashi got up again and went to the mic. “That one featured our lead trumpet player, Iwaizumi Hajime. Next is Glenn Miller’s A String of Pearls.”
This one started right as Kuroo got his drink. It was softer than both of the other ones, and reminded Kuroo of his grandmother. He noticed that the saxophone player sitting in front of Bokuto had pulled out another instrument. The program on the table read under the heading “Saxophone,” Kageyama Tobio, Lead Alto Saxophone/Clarinet. He didn’t have time to be impressed, though, because Suga was leaning in to whisper.
“So, what do you think so far?”
“I like it. I didn’t know Daichi was so talented,” Kuroo responded. He felt bad for never having seen his friend perform before, but he was glad he had come. Especially because he got to see people like Bokuto. That was weird. Kuroo didn’t know the guy at all, and here he was, mooning over him just because he played an instrument really well. And he was cute. And he looked pretty buff from where Kuroo sat, like, maybe even more buff than Daichi, which was saying something. Suga noticed where Kuroo was staring and laughed.
“So I see you’ve noticed Bokuto.” He sounded more smug than anything else and Kuroo felt a familiar chill down his spine. Suga continued, “You know, he’s a really nice guy, I’ve met him before. And,” he added, smirking like the devil himself, “he’s single.”
Kuroo felt heat rushing to his face, which he blamed on the alcohol, and not the fact that Suga was totally trying to set him up with this guy. Not that he would be against it or anything. In fact, he’d very much be for it. Kuroo picked up his drink and began sipping so he wouldn’t have to say anything back, but he knew that Suga could see right through him.
Fortunately the song was ending, and he could throw himself into focusing on the next one as it came. Akaashi got up and said, “Up next is a number that we all love, and then we’re going to take a little break. This is Haitian Fight Song.” Suga perked up at that, which signaled Kuroo to pay attention to Daichi.
The song started out so quiet, Kuroo wouldn’t know anything was happening if he wasn’t looking directly at Daichi. He was plucking at the strings of his bass, eyes closed. Each note flowed together sweetly. Kuroo found himself closing his eyes and just listening to the way his friend played. He really hadn’t known how good Daichi was at his instrument, but hearing the way he molded each individual note into a coherent melodic line made Kuroo’s respect and admiration for Daichi grow. If what little Kuroo knew about jazz was correct, Daichi was probably improvising. There his friend stood, on stage in front of friends and strangers alike, just letting go and playing whatever came to mind. Kuroo was so immensely proud of Daichi in those moments that he decided to never skip out on seeing him perform in the future.
Daichi nodded to Oikawa, and allowed a brief pause in which Kuroo let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. Then he picked up what must have been the main bassline of the song. It was a sudden shift in speed, but it didn’t feel out of place. Soon after Oikawa joined in on a cymbal. They continued on together until a glance towards the second row signaled the trombone section to come in.
As Daichi continued with his bassline, the trombone section began to play. The one on the very end let out a honking low note that he held out while the rest of the section just barely touched on it and continued on to the rest of the melody. They were moving so quickly that Kuroo could barely keep up with what they were playing. The notes were so short and articulated that Kuroo couldn’t keep up. It was all so contrasting from what Daichi had played earlier, in his solo and in the written bassline. Kuroo let himself get carried away as the saxophones played the same melody as the trombones, a little later so that the tune was offset from itself.
The trumpets joined in with interjections of the same rapid notes that made up the tail end of the melody. Kuroo felt like he was being attacked on all sides by the overlapping noises. It wasn’t even a coherent melody, but something about it captured Kuroo’s attention. He looked up at Bokuto. His face was set in deep concentration, brows furrowed as he played. Despite the unusual tension in Bokuto’s features, he was still playing like he was before. Kuroo wanted to tell him that he was fine, that he was amazing, that he sounded absolutely incredible and even if he had made a mistake he was still so, so good at what he was doing. Kuroo then realized that he was more into Bokuto than he thought, and he still hadn’t even spoken to the guy. He was screwed.
He realized he hadn’t been paying full attention to the music, because suddenly Daichi was repeating the same baseline from the beginning of the song as if none of the previous noise had taken place. Then, the original melody started up again and Kuroo found himself just as transfixed as he was the first time. Every aspect of the song screamed technical ability, down to the last note. Kuroo was swept up in a rush of pure skill. He looked at Bokuto’s face and could almost feel the intensity that was radiating off of the stage. What he saw before, he realized was only partially anxiety. The rest was a kind of raw power that drew Kuroo in. He knew he was staring, that if Bokuto could see him he might be freaked out, but he couldn’t help it.
That power, that intensity, was packed into every repetition of the same pattern. Each attack was a new articulation of just how skilled every single member on stage was. Even off to the side, Oikawa and Akaashi and Daichi were clearly using their own talents to hold everyone else together. Even though everything they played sounded so much simpler than the rest of the band, it was obvious that without those three to hold them down and drive them forward, everyone else would just fall apart. Kuroo was almost overwhelmed by the sheer talent that was standing in front of him. And Bokuto stood right in the center of it all, repeating the rhythms with such intense focus that Kuroo was honest to God intimidated.
The band played on, repeating the patterns of rapid notes, along with new interjections of rhythm here and there. It was getting louder and louder, so much so that Kuroo could barely hear himself think. Right when the volume peaked, the whole band suddenly cut off, and Daichi continued with his bassline from the beginning. This time though, the rest of the band gradually began playing it along with Daichi until its end, which is when the whole song finally concluded.
Kuroo sat still in his seat for a moment, almost like he had been hypnotized. After what felt like years, Suga placed his hand on Kuroo’s shoulder, snapping him out of his daze.
“I take it you liked that last one a lot,” he said.
Kuroo was still a little foggy for a reason he couldn’t explain. “Yeah, Daichi was great in that one,” he responded, eyes locked on where Bokuto stood off to the side of the stage. Suga followed Kuroo’s line of sight and chuckled.
“I’m sure you were totally focused on Daichi the whole time, Kuroo,” Suga teased. “You know you could talk to him right now if you wanted to.”
The thing was, Kuroo did want to. He really, really wanted to talk to Bokuto and tell him about everything he had felt during the first half of the set, but he was nervous. Kuroo hadn’t felt nervous about talking to a guy in ages, and he had no idea how to approach the situation. He could usually get a good read on people right away, but Bokuto was just so much that Kuroo was totally lost. The idea of starting a conversation with him had Kuroo’s stomach churning. His palms were starting to sweat.
As if he sensed Kuroo’s panic, Suga smiled and said, “If you want, I can introduce you two. He really is a good guy, so just calm down and say hello.” Kuroo nodded and allowed Suga to pull him over to where Bokuto was standing. Fortunately, he was talking to Daichi, and Kuroo felt his anxiety lessen at that. At the very least, he wouldn’t have to worm his way into a conversation with two people he didn’t know.
He let himself be led over to the stage and tried to stop sweating. Daichi noticed them and waved them over.
“Hey! Bokuto, you know Suga already, but this is my friend Kuroo,” he said. God, Kuroo wanted so badly to just run away and move to a new city, burn his fingerprints off and maybe get facial reconstructive surgery so he wouldn’t have to fight past the sudden dryness in his throat and talk to Bokuto.
“Hey hey hey! I’m Bokuto! It’s so nice to meet you. Daichi talks about you all the time. Like, all the time all the time. For a while I thought maybe all three of you were dating or something, because he literally never shuts up about how you’re always at his house.” Bokuto was loud. Kuroo coughed out a laugh and shook his head.
“I am not always talking about Kuroo, I just don’t like it when he leaves his underwear in my bedroom for weeks!” Daichi was laughing as he said it.
“The underwear thing is what made me think you were dating him in the first place, dude!” Bokuto was near shouting now, and Kuroo was transfixed by the way his voice sounded. He was getting caught up, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop himself. Kuroo found himself responding but he wasn’t fully aware of what he was saying. Watching Bokuto talk was like watching him play; there was nothing else worth looking at in the whole room.
Bokuto and Suga were leading the conversation now, but the whole time it felt like Bokuto was watching Kuroo alone. He kept looking over at Kuroo and then looking away like he didn’t want to be caught staring. Kuroo managed to hold his gaze for a few seconds until Bokuto looked away, biting his lip lightly as he looked down at his shoes. But still, those brief moments Kuroo had had to look into Bokuto’s eyes were enough for him to feel like the floor was being ripped out from under him.
Even though they weren’t under the bright lights of the stage anymore Bokuto’s eyes were shining, burning a hole into Kuroo’s mind like they were boring into his very being and there was nothing Kuroo could do to stop it. It was like he was getting held hostage. Everything about Bokuto was drawing him close and trapping him. There was the slope of his nose and the way Bokuto seemed to make his stupid hairstyle work somehow, and one of the most genuine smiles Kuroo had ever seen. His features were mixed together in a way that resulted in a man simultaneously handsome and cute and sexy and innocent and everything in a way that Kuroo, frankly, was not ready to deal with.
His heart was pounding in his chest, and he knew that there was a conversation happening in front of him. He had been talking, about what he didn’t know, but it must have been something interesting because Bokuto kept biting his lip whenever he looked over and he was blushing a little like he was just as nervous as Kuroo was. Just as Kuroo was gathering the confidence to say something flirty to Bokuto the sound of the band beginning to warm up cut him off. Bokuto and Daichi said a quick goodbye and headed back to their instruments. Before he had completely left the area, Bokuto turned back towards Kuroo and Suga. “Kuroo,” he called, “I’d really like to keep talking to you after the show. You seem like a cool guy.” He was grinning. Kuroo felt his face heat up.
Suga led Kuroo back to their seats and flagged the waitress over to order another drink. Kuroo decided against a third mojito. He had enough self awareness to know that too much rum would make him sleepy and sloppy. Rum drunk Kuroo was great and all, but he was not to be trusted around cute guys. At least tequila drunk Kuroo wouldn’t be making an appearance that night, because based on historical precedent, that guy would definitely be fully nude on top of a table, and he was trying to impress Bokuto, not suck his dick in a Taco Bell bathroom.
Right as Suga got his drink, a tall man with long hair walked out onto the stage. The sounds of the band warming up died down as he stood in front of a microphone in front of them. Kuroo looked down at his program. Azumane Asahi, vocalist. He hadn’t expected anyone to come out and sing, but then again, he hadn’t expected anything that he had heard that night.
The song started soft and slow with some chords from the trumpet section. Daichi plucked out a line that drove the movement of the music forward while Bokuto interjected with a high melody that made Kuroo want to melt into his chair. Bokuto’s melody seemed so carefree and easy as it continued into the first lyrics of the song.
“You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you.” Asahi sang. His voice was high and light, and he sang the words with the kind of ease that came with years of training.
The song continued, “You’d be like heaven to touch. I wanna hold you so much. At long last love has arrived, and I thank God I’m alive. You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you.” Kuroo looked past where Asahi stood at the front of the stage and saw Bokuto. It was like everyone else was out of focus. Kuroo only saw Bokuto. His heart was pounding. As the music continued and Asahi sang, Kuroo found himself wishing he could say those same words to Bokuto.
“Pardon the way that I stare. There’s nothing else to compare. The sight of you leaves me weak. There are no words left to speak. But if you feel like I feel, please let me know that it’s real. You’re just too good to be true. Can’t take my eyes off of you.”
Bokuto played little interjections that were so quiet and sweet, and although they seemed to be at odds with his loud personality, Kuroo thought that they perfectly embodied him. They had the kind of easy gentleness that complimented the soft, loving lyrics Asahi sang. To Kuroo, the words themselves were extensions of the emotions he heard pouring from every note the band played. The band was both supporting the lyrics of the song and embodying them in their playing. Even the low notes that accompanied Daichi’s bassline, which in another song would have been honking and intense, came out like a gentle push forwards towards the next part. It all flowed so easily, so beautifully, that Kuroo was completely enraptured.
As Asahi finished singing the first verse, the trumpets and trombones came in with a louder, more direct line that matched up with the beating of Kuroo’s heart. The instrumentals ushered in the next bit of lyrics, which Asahi sang with more aggression.
“I love you baby, and if it’s quite alright I need you baby to warm the lonely night. I love you baby, trust in me when I say,” Asahi cried out. Kuroo continued looking at Bokuto. His eyes were closed, and he swayed as he played.
“Oh pretty baby, don’t bring me down I pray. Oh pretty baby, now that I’ve found you stay. And let me love you, baby, let me love you.” It seemed like Asahi was almost begging as he sang.
The first verse repeated again, with more intensity. Even though the words themselves were the same, they were more pleading the second time around. Bokuto’s interjections also sounded more earnest. Kuroo shifted in his seat. He felt a little silly, getting so wrapped up in the music and the idea of someone he had just met, but he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t that he was particularly lonely or anything, or even that he couldn’t just find someone to sleep with if he wanted to. There was just something about seeing someone who was attractive and passionate and skilled do something that they so clearly loved that had Kuroo drawn in. He didn’t know if he could comfortably call what he was feeling love, but damn, it felt like nothing else.
By the next chorus, Kuroo was certain that his conversation with Bokuto was what cemented his feelings. The thought of even having feelings was slightly overwhelming, but there was just something about Bokuto that drew him in. Once he had gotten into talking with Bokuto, it was so easy to just talk and talk like they had known each other for years. He couldn’t wait to talk to him again, although at the same time he didn’t want the music to stop.
The song continued. Asahi sang and the band played and Kuroo sat and listened and thought. He thought about the lyrics and the music and how all of it combined together and he thought about Bokuto. There was something there, there had to be. Kuroo hadn’t felt a spark like this one before, and he knew he’d be hurting himself in the long run if he didn’t at least try to see how things went.
Eventually, the song faded out, and after a round of applause that left Kuroo’s hands hurting. With no introduction, Asahi took a deep breath and began to sing once more, without the band accompanying him.
“Birds flying high, you know how I feel. Sun in the sky, you know how I feel. Breeze drifting on by, you know how I feel. It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me.” There was a short pause. “And I’m feeling,” another pause, this time much longer. Kuroo felt like he was on a rollercoaster, like he was about to drop down any second but he didn’t know when. Asahi looked behind him and nodded towards the band.
“Good.”
On that word, everyone sprang into motion. Bokuto and his section, along with Daichi, began backing him up at the exact moment Asahi sang, his voice low and full and rich. As he sang, Kuroo looked past him and at Bokuto. It was like there was a spotlight on just him, the rest of the stage blacked out of Kuroo’s line of sight. After each verse, the band repeated the same patterns of rhythms with an intensity that had his heart pounding, but he was still just looking at Bokuto.
“Stars, when you shine, you know how I feel. Scent of the pine, you know how I feel. Freedom is mine, and I know how I feel. It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life for me.” The band held out a chord while Asahi vocalized, the volume growing and intensifying with each passing second. Kuroo felt like he was getting edged. He wanted the song to end so he could see Bokuto again, but he also didn’t want to let go of the tension building as Asahi sang nonsense leading up to the end of the song.
It had to end eventually though. Asahi sang out once again with the kind of energy that comes from finality, and was matched just as intensely by the band.
“Oh I’m feeling good,” he cried, and Kuroo got it. He finally figured it out. Just one short conversation with Bokuto had him feeling so much lighter because Bokuto was just that warm and inviting. He had an energy that was so overtly positive that Kuroo couldn’t help but be drawn into it. Bokuto and the band were taking their bows as the audience clapped and clapped and Akaashi said more things into the microphone that Kuroo didn’t listen to because he was already walking towards where he had spoken to Bokuto before.
Suga, noticing Kuroo’s determination, stayed back to let him do what he needed to do. Kuroo watched as Bokuto picked up his instrument and music and began to walk backstage with the rest of the band, away from Kuroo. He panicked and froze where he stood, afraid that he’d lost his moment, that they would part ways only having had one conversation, but then Bokuto handed his things to someone from his section and turned back around. They locked eyes as Bokuto walked across the stage towards Kuroo. Kuroo’s breath caught in his throat, as he stood and waited for what felt like an eternity for Bokuto to reach him.
But then he got there, and Kuroo still couldn’t breathe, and he knew he had to say something but he just couldn’t. What could he even say? “Hey, I know we’ve only known each other for a couple hours but there’s something here, isn’t there? Please tell me I’m not the only one who feels this,” as if that wouldn’t make him seem like he was desperate and weird. He was definitely panicking, but he couldn’t help it, not when they were just a breath apart and he had to say something, he had to. He opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.
Fuck. He couldn’t do this, not when he was this anxious. There was no way for him to talk himself out of a panic attack and manage to have a conversation with Bokuto. He looked around to find Suga or Daichi or maybe even a pit he could throw himself into so he wouldn’t have to embarrass himself in front of Bokuto. He didn’t know what he was feeling, but it was like there was a mass of burning energy radiating out from his core and even though he couldn’t identify it he knew he couldn’t ignore it because whatever it was it was real.
Bokuto must have been feeling it too. There was no way he wasn’t, not when he was shifting his weight from foot to foot and twisting his fingers together as he spoke.
“Hi, I’m Bokuto. I know Daichi and Suga introduced us earlier but, um, I was wondering if you’d want to go out with me some time?” He said, and his voice was smaller than it was before, like he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to be talking. Kuroo let go of the breath he had been holding. The feeling he had but couldn’t identify was still overwhelming all of his senses, but he didn’t mind, not when it looked like Bokuto was feeling it too.
Kuroo looked back into Bokuto’s eyes. They were shining like stars, and Kuroo was lost in space chasing after them. This was it, what he had been waiting on and that feeling was growing in intensity to the point where it was all Kuroo could think about.
And then suddenly it hit him. It hadn’t been a new feeling, but rather a mixture of everything he had felt before in his life raised to a higher magnitude. He was feeling anxious about the prospect of Bokuto. He was feeling terrified that he would mess this up before it could get started, whatever it was. He was feeling sure that there was no way he could go through with accepting Bokuto’s offer, no matter how much he wanted to.
But he was also feeling hope that he could maybe build something with Bokuto. He was feeling a little silly for getting so worked up over a guy he had only just met. He was feeling like his feelings were being matched by Bokuto. He was feeling a little overwhelmed and excited and kind of sweaty and it didn’t matter because every individual emotion that was running through him at that moment was just one note in the cocktail of sensation that was pulsing through Kuroo.
“Yes, I would love to go on a date with you,” he responded.
Kuroo was feeling so much at once, and it only got more mixed up when Bokuto’s face lit up with a wide smile that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.
And in that moment, Kuroo realized it didn’t matter what exactly it was he was feeling. He was just feeling good.