The Cat and the Crow

“You came,” Kuroo spoke quietly. He hadn’t been completely sure blondie would even agree to this meeting. But there he was, looking nervous and determined at the same time. A light flush colored his cheeks. Kuroo couldn’t look away. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

“Yeah,” came the response, a slight shrug included. Then, to Kuroo’s surprise, he bowed. “It’s nice to meet you, again, Kuroo,” he said politely.

“Oh, uhhh, yeah. Nice to meet you, too,” he replied. Blondie knew his name? He glanced over toward Akaashi, who merely shrugged. Guess he really couldn’t blame his friend for giving his name first. Returning his attention to blondie, he took a step forward. “What’s your name?”

“Tsukishima Kei.” After a moment, he also took a step forward. They were close enough to touch fingertips, if they stretched their arms out. Kuroo chuckled a bit, and Tsukishima looked confused. “Is my name funny?”

Caught, Kuroo took another step closer. “No no no, I wasn’t laughing at that,” he said gently. “I was just thinking that, if we stretched out our arms, we’d be close enough to touch fingertips.” This time he only took a half step. Tsukishima remained where he was. They were less than two feet apart. “Closer now, though,” he said with a soft tone. “Want to try?” He reached out his right hand, as if to shake hands.

Tsukishima’s face flushed once again, his eyebrows lowered a little over his beautiful golden brown eyes, and he bit the corner of his lip. Clearly, he wasn’t too sure how to respond. Kuroo hid his disappointment. Maybe it was too soon? He wasn’t too sure, himself. But just when he started to lower his hand, Tsukishima reached out to take it.

A bolt shot up his arm, and sent a shiver down his spine. Kuroo gasped; he couldn’t help it. His eyes met Tsukishima’s; they were wide and shocked. It lasted but a moment, and yet he knew he’d remember this forever. Tsukishima tried to let go, but Kuroo squeezed a little tighter.

“Tell me you felt it, too,” he quietly demanded. Please tell me I wasn’t the only one to feel that. He needed the confirmation like he needed his next breath.

Tsukishima nodded once. “Like electricity,” he answered. “Only, it felt … good.”

“Yeah, same.”

They stood there staring at each other for what felt like hours, until a familiar voice cut through the silence.

“Food’s getting cold, guys!” Bokuto said loudly. “And you both need to eat!”

Both of them jumped, as if they’d completely forgotten they weren’t alone, and Kuroo reluctantly let go of Tsukishima’s hand.

“Friendly reminder that the afternoon sets start at 2:30pm,” Akaashi added.

Kuroo looked over at the clock on the wall. 1:15pm. All that happened in 15 minutes? Well, they still had some time left. “Let’s go,” he said, tilting his head in the direction of his two friends.

[Question/Answer]

It was almost 2pm, and Kuroo still hadn’t asked Tsukishima if he wanted to join them tonight. Maybe he was nervous about the answer; maybe the timing wasn’t quite right. Bokuto did kind of run away with the conversation multiple times, with Akaashi calmly trying to rein him in. His poor Tsuki looked like he would take flight in the beginning, so Kuroo did his best to keep him there. Overall, the dynamics of their little group somehow clicked, and Tsuki was now chatting with the rest of them. His temperament matched Akaashi’s in that they were the calm, thoughtful ones, compared to Bokuto’s and Kuroo’s more out-going personalities.

I guess opposites really do attract, he thought with a pleased smile.

“What are you smiling at,” both Tsuki and Akaashi asked him. Of course, they were the first to notice. And, as expected, both of them glanced at each other and smirked.

“Don’t mind, I was just thinking about something,” he answered calmly, waving it off. He gave Akaashi a look, and tilted his head in the direction of the clock. His friend jumped into action.

“Help me take these back, Bokuto,” he said as he started clearing the table and picking up a loaded tray.

“But I wasn’t finished telling them about our last game!” he complained, even as he followed suit.

“You can tell them all about it later,” Akaashi replied, giving the other a slight push toward the door. He looked back over his shoulder at Kuroo and nodded.

Pleased that he had the approval of his friends, he focused on Tsuki. The fact that they’d been left alone did not go unnoticed by him, and while he looked a little nervous, he also didn’t make a move to leave. A small silence fell between them.

“Maybe we should go, too,” Tsuki suggested. Still, he didn’t move.

“May I ask you something?”

A slight shrug, and then, “Sure.”

“We were thinking about going out for a little bit after dinner. Want to join us?” There. He asked the question he’d been dying to ask for the last few days. And he still managed to sound cool, too, which he thought was a bonus.

“Don’t you think we’d get in trouble?” Tsuki asked.

“I really can’t guarantee that we won’t,” he replied carefully. “But we aren’t going out for long. Just to hang out and relax, really. And the place isn’t far, either. Only a few blocks from here.” Great. Now he sounded desperate. Maybe Tsuki wouldn’t notice?

Ah, but by the tell-tale smirk on his face, Kuroo had been caught out. Again.

“You really want me to go, don’t you?”

“Obviously,” Kuroo grumbled.

“What if I said no?” Tsuki was still smirking. Kuroo narrowed his eyes.

“Does that mean you considered going?” he shot back.

Tsuki chuckled and a genuine smile appeared. Forgetting his irritation, Kuroo stared, entranced. His Tsuki was absolutely beautiful when he was happy. Now, and as many times as he could in the future, Kuroo would promise to always make Tsuki happy. Even if he’d be the only one to see it. Even better, if that were the case. It was definitely more special, that way.

He reached out across the table with both hands, palms up. After a few moments. Tsuki reached out and took them. That same bolt, that same shiver, went through him again, just like before. And by the slight jerk in Tsuki’s hands, Kuroo knew he’d felt it, too. The only difference was that both of them tightened their hold, as if to never let go.

“I wanted to see if it would be the same,” Kuroo whispered, looking up at Tsuki.

“Yeah, same,” Tsuki replied. He took a shaky breath, and then answered. “I’ll go. Where should we meet?”

“In front of the gym. I’ll get word to you about when, okay?”

Tsuki just nodded. “I’m going to let a couple people know, though. If I don’t, Tadashi will panic, and Suga will form a search party.”

“Good idea. I’ll do the same, and let Akaashi and Bokuto know, as well.”

“Good.”

Kuroo glanced at the clock. Shit. It was ten after 2, and they were now borderline late. “We gotta go,” he said, quickly rising from the table. “We’ll be late if we don’t go now.”

Tsuki tsked, but followed Kuroo. They were almost at the door when Kuroo turned around. It was so sudden that Tsuki nearly collided with him. Which, to be perfectly honest, would have been much better. But just being this close was also perfect. He locked eyes with Tsuki, sighed, and leaned forward. He closed his eyes when their foreheads touched.

“Do you think I’m moving too fast?” he asked.

“A little,” he heard Tsuki’s shaky reply.

“Do you want me to stop?”

A slight shake of his head was the answer he needed, but he also wanted to hear Tsuki say it. “Out loud. Please.”

“No. Don’t stop.”

“Good.” He opened his eyes, and found Tsuki staring at him. With a smirk, he moved closer, closing the gap, and kissed Tsuki on the cheek. “See you later… Tsuki.”

Without waiting for an answer, he turned around and went inside. As he passed through the halls, he rubbed his hands over his face and through his hair. He always thought he’d be the last person to fall in love at first sight, and yet, here he was, head over heels in love. How tropish. How very shojo manga. And he wouldn’t change any of it for the world. It was too late; He was too far gone.

As it turned out, he was only a few minutes late, and Tsuki showed up a few minutes after that. He endured some good-natured teasing from his teammates, but overall, no one said anything. Which was good because he really didn’t want to explain. Not yet.