kuroken; don’t call kenma lazy in front of kuroo. just—don’t.
for@dgalerab- idk if someone beat me to it but i too, like kuroo, would defend kenma to the depths of hell and beyond,,
They’re eating lunch when it happens. It’s just the two of them today, Kuroo nabbing a random vacant chair to join Kenma at his desk because the second year doesn’t feel like moving. Or talking. Or really anything, but that’s a whole other can of worms.
Kuroo talks for the both of them, one of his notebooks open next to his bento as he drops broccoli into Kenma’s box when he thinks the other boy isn’t looking. Kenma has his phone out, but he’s barely scrolling through it. Instead, he’s steadily picking through his lunch, silently taking in Kuroo’s babbling about some sort of revelation in the chemistry world. He hums every now and then to let Kuroo know he’s listening. It’s almost peaceful, as familiar this scene was.
Then, of course, one of Kenma’s classmates, a tall kid with glasses whose name Kenma can never bother to remember, has to go and make a snide remark about him, just loud enough for most everyone in the classroom can hear.
“There’s no way he made the starting line up without kissing ass. I mean, if Kozume’s lazy ass can be a starter, then what does that say about our volleyball team, right?”
Kuroo falls silent immediately, fingers clenching his chopsticks so hard Kenma’s afraid they’ll break. He wants to say something, or run away, or tell Kuroo to ignore them, but he can’t. He just hunches further into his sweater.
“Excuse me,” Kuroo says, turning in his chair. His tone is light, almost conversational, but his eyes are the sharp kind of dangerous when he plays against opponents that don’t play nice. “What the fuck did you just say?”
The kid sniffs, and Kenma isn’t sure if he should be in awe of his classmate for being so undaunted when there’s a large scary third year glaring him down. “I said, i don’t understand how Kozume is on the team. He doesn’t talk, he’s creepy, and he’s lazy—”
“Kuro,” Kenma says quietly, but his friend doesn’t hear him. Kenma can only watch on nervously, fingers twitching around his phone. The whole classroom is watching the exchange with varying degrees of alarm.
Kuroo finally stands, stretching to his full height. He easily looms over the other kid. “Have you ever gone to a game of ours?” he says, staring the kid down. “Do you even know what volleyball is? How it’s a team sport? How each member carries their own weight, how each team relies on its setter? Have you ever seen Kenma play? Do you know that he’s our setter, the setter who is currently carrying us to nationals? Do you know how much time he puts into studying other teams’ plays, how long he stays for extra practice with all of us, individually? Do you?”
The other kid has the sense of gulp. He pushes on his glasses, glancing away from Kuroo, but not even his friends are willing to help him out of that. Kenma understands. Kuroo is real scary when he needs to be.
“If you want to talk shit about Nekoma Volleyball Club, fine,” Kuroo says, tilting his head so his too-long bangs throw shadows over his narrow eyes. “But let’s see you come to an actual game first, huh? There’s a practice match this Saturday. I invite you.”
Kenma watches sweat gather on the poor kid’s forehead. But Kuroo isn’t done.
“And if you ever dare call Kenma lazy again,” says Kuroo, leaning forwards until the kid has to tilt his head back to maintain eye contact. “We’ll be having another nice chat. Understood?”
The kid swallows audibly. He manages a strangled Y-yes, and then Kuroo is settling back next to Kenma, picking up his chopsticks and continuing his spiel about some unique chemical bond only found in space as if nothing happened. The noise level in the classroom picks up again, and Kenma puts down his phone.
He doesn’t say anything, but when he knocks his knee against Kuroo’s and feels the other boy press back gently, he knows he doesn’t need to.
I have no explanation for this, other than I’m hopelessly in love with Jihyun Kim and I really wanted to do this as the self-indulgent trash that I am. I hope those of you that read it enjoy it, and that I’ve done him justice. Under the cut because this became way longer than I thought it would be;;;
Genre: fluff, one shot, tiny smut (does it even count? lol)
Word Count: 1.8k
a/n: just felt like writing a little cute one shot because i’ve been gone for a while and taehyung looks so cute yet hot in the morning.. i don’t even know how he does it, he’s not human or something bc look at him. thanks for sticking around and thank you so much for reading :)
“Lay with me a bit longer.” You hear Taehyung mumble behind you in his groggy morning voice. He stretches out his arm and grabs your t-shirt then tugs it gently. You were sitting at the edge of the bed staring at the time on the clock realizing you had overslept yet again. You could hear the noise of traffic down below and the chirping songs of the early birds outside your window. This morning you weren’t alone.
It was funny and adorable how quickly Tae realized you weren’t by his side or in his arms anymore. You turn around and smile at him. His eyes were closed and his mouth was bent into a frown his long body sprawled out under the covers now in the spot where you were once laying. Taehyung wasn’t a morning person and he was usually a heavy sleeper but this past week he had been waking up every morning begging you to not go like a child. He was still tugging on your shirt half awake half asleep.
So quite a few people have been looking for a masterlist of my posts. I haven’t posted in almost a month properly, I know. I’m going through a seriously rough patch and honestly I don’t know if I’ll recover from it enough to fall back in love with Mystic Messenger, so I don’t know what’s going to happen with this blog, but for now I’m just going to list the things I’ve posted and then return to my hiatus.
Please note that nearly all of these posts are gender neutral ^^ And none are NSFW because I’m an ace minor.