thunderstorms - kuroo tetsurou
kuroo has a new girlfriend.
you’d heard it in the hallways; the boys had just gone back from a friendly match, and you were at your locker to take out something you can’t seem to remember now—a book, maybe?
though the hallway was mostly empty, it seemed like the boys hadn’t spotted you, so you continued on with your business when lev started whining to kai about how envious he was of kuroo’s new girlfriend.
new girlfriend.
you had froze in spot when the words entered your ear. your mind went blank, and you’re almost sure that time and space froze right along with you then.
slowly, you twisted your head towards their direction, and released a breath when you saw that kuroo wasn’t with them, shoulders sagging. you had, however, accidentally made eye contact with kenma, and a slight nod from him had been all the confirmation you needed.
it’s not like you can blame kuroo, though. after the both of you had ended it during that argument two months ago, you had given kuroo the cold shoulder for weeks.
and kuroo, being kuroo, had held on tight to his own ego and went on with his days pretending like you didn’t exist, too.
basically, it’s been radio silent between the two of you. though, in the back of your mind, you had assumed it was all just a game, albeit stretched on too long, to see who’d cave first.
up until that hallway incident, that is.
as if that wasn’t already enough, new gossip started to surface as well about how perfect she was for kuroo—she never failed to come to his matches, was always supportive of him, and just all around perfect, everyone had commented.
kuroo has a new girlfriend, so you’re wondering why he’s standing outside your door at 2am during a thunderstorm.
he’s looking at you with his all too familiar honey eyes, which softens as you finally take him in. he’s head to toe drenched in rainwater. his usual bedhead is wet, sticking to his forehead, and his lips slowly part, as if wanting to say something.
“kuroo,” you start. lightning flashes in the background, and you blink twice, thrice, to see if it is actually him standing on your porch, and not your brain playing games. “what are you doing here?”
“you love thunderstorms,” he finally breathes out, his chest rising and falling quicker than usual. he ran here, you realize.
you nod once, “i do.”
“you love me, too.” kuroo continues.
you furrow your brows, and raise up a palm to stop him. “you have a girlfriend, kuroo. go home.” you swear you can hear your heart crack the moment you said girlfriend out loud.
“i don’t,” kuroo shakes his head and his hands reach out to take your palm—and blame it on the situation or the time, you let him.
his hands are cold and dripping, which usually you’d protest against, but right now there’s something in the way kuroo’s looking at you that keeps you from saying anything.
something that looks a lot like yearning.
“i hear she’s perfect for you,” you whisper. the words don’t even seem real to you, yet you say it anyway. it’s not right that kuroo is here, you think.
“she is,” he swallows. “perfect.”
you start to pull your hand away from his, but his grip is unrelenting. “i don’t need to hear it kuroo. go home.”
“she’s perfect, you know,” he continues.
this is insane, you laugh silently. “so you ran all this way to gloat?”
you turn to step back inside, not wanting to hear any more of his new relationship, but he holds you back still. his hands keep their grip on yours as he steps closer.
“but she’s not you.”
you flick your gaze back to him, lightning flashing once more.
“i was empty for two months without you,” he admits. the rain pours harder behind him, and the sane part of you is telling you to come inside, but you know kuroo, and he’s not moving until he’s finished. “i thought she could fill back the hole in my heart, replace maybe even a speck of you, but i was wrong. dead wrong.”
“she came to my matches, but all the while i kept looking for you. i was so fixated on looking for you that i was off my game. coach even had to sub me out once.”
“kuroo–”
“no, wait,” he interrupts. “you can ask kenma if you don’t believe me. he called me out several times about it.”
“after the match, when we were having barbeque together, i was waiting for a comment to tease me for getting fish instead of beef, until i realized there won’t be one because you weren’t there.”
“and she never gets my jokes about docosahexaenoic acid. even after i explained to her that it’s good for the brain and—”
“—found in fish. that’s why you like mackerel so much,” you finish for him.
“exactly,” he whispers. his gaze is now pleading, and your heart strains at the sight. you know he means all of it, because he’s rambling. it’s not often kuroo does that.
“i’m not with her anymore.” kuroo’s hands move to interlace his fingers with yours. “i never was, not really.”
you nod again, feeling too many things at once.
the wind is cruel tonight, your hands freezing, but kuroo hasn’t held your hand in too long, so you stay like this.
“i haven’t let anyone take your seat at my place either, you know. that’s your spot, no one could take it,” he says.
“tell me why you’re here, kuroo.” you ask, even though his eyes are telling you everything.
“take me back.” his tone is pleading too, now. and you can feel his longing in the air, palpable. you think it’s mixed in with yours, too. “i’ll do anything.”
“kuroo,” you breathe, but he stops you again.
“tetsurou. not kuroo.” he corrects. “not for you.”
and there’s a silent pause, before you whisper, “okay.”
“okay, what? okay as in you’ll call me tetsurou again, or okay as in you’ll take me back?” he moves his hand to jaw, tilting it up for him to see better. “you look perfect, by the way.”
“thought you didn’t want perfect.”
“i want you. it’s only you for me, no one else.” his face is inches from yours now, the tension borderline tangible. “so what do you say, kitten?”
you smile up at him, “okay as in both, then.”
and he kisses you, as lightning flashes for the third time that night.
