Chapter Text
PILOT
On a sunny Sunday afternoon, two of Japan’s best Fuckboys Bokuto and Kuroo find themselves walking down the streets of downtown Tokyo, bustling and laughing about their latest sexual conquests.
The two are only slightly aware of the horny stares they get from men and women alike, who are a little awestruck from seeing two tall and handsome men so enthralled with life.
These boys LOVED their lives.
“So did you end up fucking him, or his girlfriend?” Bo asked the raven haired middle blocker.
“Threes a party.” Answered Kuroo calmly, trying to wipe off the shit eating grin that crept up on his face.
Bokuto howled. “NOOOOO WAYYYYYY.”
“Quiet! Dude, it’s not my fault that they couldn’t decide!”
“You’re a legend, bro,” Bo complimented, bringing down his volume only slightly. Just as they turned the corner on the busy Japanese street toward the restaurant strip, both of their phones pinged from an incoming message.
Like a competitive toddler, Bokuto scurried to get his phone out first. “It’s from Matsun,” he read.
Kuroo sighed. “Shit. He’s gonna kill us. Tell him we’re like, 5 minutes away. I promised him we wouldn’t be late again,”
Bokuto typed quickly and then slipped his phone away, giving his friend a brilliant smile.
“It’s fine! Issei should know by now that we’re going to be late. This happens every Sunday since school started back. It’s not our fault that his parents wouldn’t let him room with us this year,”
“Actually........” Kuroo drew out the syllables in the word and squinted one eye, cringing. “It kind of is. I mean, you really shouldn’t have posted that collage video of him making out with half the baseball team at the same party on your Facebook, a platform of which you have his parents as friends.” Kuroo paused to shake his head, “We’re lucky all his parents did was transfer his dorm, they could have transferred him to a whole other University if they wanted to.” Kuroo’s voice saddened to the thought, unable to imagine his College life without a third of his heart.
Guiltily, Kotaro thought about the same thing, but instead of being sad, he stopped walking altogether to stomp his foot, obviously having a mini tantrum. “Hey! I was wishing my best friend happy birthday, adding the most awesome video ever that took me hours to get some dude to edit! Is that so bad?! “
Kuroo continued walking, knowing not to play into his grey haired friend’s hand when he got like this. “To me? No. Not bad at all—the video demonstrated King shit, undoubtedly.—“
Bokuto heard that and his attitude switched like a light, skipping forward to fall back in step with the Raven.
Kuroo smirked. “—But to Issei’s parents??? The same parents who pay all his school fees, granted Issei will come out being a prestigious surgeon?! The same parents who call us to assure them that Issei is, in fact, studying and then we send them pictures from the study photoshoot we take of him? The same parents who think that Issei is still a virgin?! Oho, that video almost ruined his—and by extension, our lives, man.”
Bokuto pouted. “I said I was sorry....... I even gave him the phone number of that one guy who gives really hot handjobs cause he twists his wrists like so and—“
Kuroo patted his owl on the shoulder. “Dude. It’s fine now, and in the past. Sure, it sucks that Matsun can no longer live with us but he’s still only a 20-minute walk from our apartment. Not really sure what his parents thought they were doing there. They played themselves .” As Kuroo turned a corner again on the busy sidewalk, he caught wind of his name being called by a really cute guy serving on a patio. He had sand coloured hair and pouty lips, and he waved excitedly at the Science Major.
6/10, Kuroo noted mentally, referring to the guy. He recognized that 6/10..... because he was a 2.5/10 when the Raven first met him at the bar one night, but his deep-throat game turned out to be a solid 7/10, so Kuroo friendly boosted him to a 6.
Tetsurō cant remember the name of the sand pout guy, but he recognizes the sound of his voice as one of the many who have screamed his name in bed this September... he also recognizes the sound whining his name because Kuroo told him he couldn’t stay the night. It was always the same. When would they learn?
Bokuto ran into the same issues as a player, even though he went about it in the most morally correct way out of the three of them. Maybe it’s because he is just so freaking nice and gets so excited to see people, his conquests end up leaving crying every time when they can’t stay the night. I mean, come on.
Bo always felt soooooo bad afterwards because he never lied to the people who slept with, always telling them that all he wants is sex and maybe a cuddle, but they always fell for him anyway, and Bokuto would cave and let them sleepover while he slept on the couch.
Kuroo and Mattsun would be ready to usher them out in the morning anyway, lovingly explaining to Bokuto that they will fall even harder if he lets them stay. Bokuto would pout but the middle blockers always assured him that he's a good dude and it’s not his fault these broads don’t listen the first time.
Back in the present, Kuroo made eye contact with the college student and sent him a devastatingly handsome smile in return, just in case he had to call him for a face-fuck quickie again. Sandy Pout visibly swooned, and Kuroo quickly transitioned back to his friend and the conversation at hand, forgetting that guy. “All it changed was the fact that our tradition of Sunday morning debrief has to be at this spot now, switching from delivery to dine-in. We’re still best friends, which is what matters.”
Nodding, Kōtarō perked up. “Best buddies forever, bro!”
The two chuckled as they finally spotted the entrance of the restaurant they always met Mattsun at down the street. They chose to meet there because it was now in the middle of their two apartments. It was a modern little spot, called the Uni Brunchette, targeted toward the concentrated college student population that lived downtown, no doubt. It was decorated stylishly: with lots of large plants and trees placed sporadically around the place, making it seem like you were in a weird hybrid of the Amazon Rain Forest and a trendy bar. It had an indoor and outdoor patio, with front walls that slid open so that even if you were inside you could feel the nice breeze of the outdoors. It had a vibrant and young clientele vibe, never getting too busy until the bar opened, but it always had the most popular kids on campus there. Not only has it become the 3 boys’ favourite place to get hammered and take people home from every Friday night when they didn’t have practice. It also served the breakfast closest to their mother’s cooking, so naturally they made a habit of coming here every Sunday afternoon to stuff their faces and talk about their week. One might call it a tradition, as well as the thing the boys always looked forward to in their already amazing lives.
Anyway, Mattsun had found it one time when he was on a ‘date’ over the summer (don’t get this fuckboy wrong, it was the kind of date that needed to be had if he wanted to get in their pants afterwards—pay your own bill though). Realizing how cool the restaurant bar was after that date, Mattsun brought his two best friends here, and it has become their place ever since. The 3 fuckboys even have their own spot, all the way in the far left corner, halfway inside and on the patio so that they had the perfect view of all the hotties that walked in, ensuring their pick of the litter.
But don’t worry, they always called dibs.
“Hey, did you hear back from Issei?” The intelligent science major questioned, kind of weirded out that their final member of the trio hasn’t been hounding them with ‘fuck you, I would have slept in later’ texts like he always did when they were late. Today, they were 40 minutes late, so multiply the usual hounding intensity by two.
“Hmm.” The owl checked his phone. “No. That’s weird, huh....”
Tetsurō couldn’t think of any reason that would keep his relaxed friend from harassing them through text, but a sharp whistle caught his attention before he could think of a reason anyway. The two friends looked over and saw a shiny red convertible of men in surfer gear honking at them as they passed.
Hmmmm....
A 7.1/10 driving the convertible, a 5/10 in the drivers seat, and three 4s out of 10 sitting in the back, Kuroo analyzed.
Clearly, the whistling was a usual testament to how handsome the boys were, and they were used to it. Kuroo smirked from the ego boost, and Bokuto waved at them joyously but casually.
What can they say? Men of Kuroo and Bokuto’s (and Mattsun’s) stature were used to the stares, the honks, the whistles, the winks, the slipped phone numbers, and the offers of sex.....is that wrong? Or are they just blessed? Besides, the public attention was way worse when Mattsun was with them.
Today was nothing.
“I can’t wait to try their new yakiniku brunch menu, oh my God.....” yapped Bokuto, skipping to their desired location and opening the door kindly for his friend to walk into. Kuroo thanked him.
“Didn’t you get sick of that after sleeping with that one girl for a month whose dad owned a yakiniku joint just so that you could eat there for free...?” Kuroo couldn’t hold back his laughter as he accused the owl. The term barbecued meat had triggered his memory.
Kuroo remembers everything, And Bokuto’s face was priceless! His face twisted and he rubbed his stomach in distant nausea. “Fuck what would I do without you guys, thanks for reminding me. I’ll stick to the normal menu today.”
The Raven and the Owl entered their favourite place, automatically feeling a wave of satisfaction because this was their place.....
They walked past the line that was forming for a brunch waitlist and maneuvered past the small groups of students who had to wait. Bo sent winks to the hotties whose breaths hitched or they tapped eachother when the two alpha males walked by, and Kuroo smoothly pretended like he didn’t notice the attention, even though he was scouting on the low.
3/10......3.7/10.......2.9/10........well hello, 7.6/10........and his 4/10 friend..........nice pecs though............
If you haven’t noticed already, Kuroo was a VERY hard marker— not once in his life giving anyone a rating over 7.8/10, except for his two best friends Mattsun and Bokuto that he loved platonically and he could say with complete certainty that they are strong 8.5s out of 10.
(Kuroo gives himself a strong 8.6/10).
Making their way to the familiar far left side, the two young men walked toward their table like they owned they place.....—because they kinda did.
There was this one time, when three people were already occupying their table when the boys sauntered in one Friday....... and once they noticed that the school’s gorgeous fuckboy trio had arrived, they left quickly, leaving their phone numbers on the table in their wake. Kind of a thirsty move, but still made for a fun night that night with a 5.7/10, Kuroo hit twice, and then blocked them completely.
Chuckling to himself at the memory, Kuroo didn’t even stop Bo as the Owl prepared himself to attempt to surprise-attack-scare Mattsun from behind like he’s failed to do several times prior.........
Kōtarō began tip toeing around the restaurant corner to face their table until he was stopped dead in his tracks due to the visual displayed in front of him.
Bokuto froze and his jaw hit the floor, unable to stop a small trail of spit that escaped the side of his mouth.
Kuroo, a man that is vastly aware of his surroundings at all times, stopped a millisecond before his gray haired friend, completely flabbergasted by the sight in front to him, too.
“What the.....?” Kuroo could only get those 2 words out before his jaw slacked too. He was too much in shock from what he was seeing to speak. He used the sides of his fists to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn’t imagining what he was looking at, when he stared at their table.
Three strangers stood there.
A...............9/10........... another 9/10............. and a..............oh dear God what the fuck is life anymore: a 105/10?!?!?!?! No, higher. Actually, the scale has just been eviscerated completely when it came down to rating the third stranger standing there...........🤯🤯🤯
Kuroo tried to gulp but his throat was dry.
Mattsun, who had his back facing their entryway as always, was chatting to three of the most attractive—no, fuck it, the three MOST attractive men any of them have EVER seen in their lives. The two 9s/10 were beautiful, painstakingly, one with dark tousled hair and a tired expression that models tried to grasp, the other with pink hair that suited him so well it was almost unfair, small sexy eyes and a lithe figure, and then........ oh God, and then, standing beside him...........
For the first time in his life, Kuroo was having a hard time using his brain. It was like it was out of commission or something. His mind shut down when his eyes latched on to the chart-breaker; a short man with the most angelic face, uninterested eyes as gold and bright and big as the sun outside, long dyed blonde hair tied back in a loose bun that had Kuroo’s fingers tingling because he wanted to feel the strands so badly.
The man had long eyelashes that were visible from fucking over here, 12 feet away, and his body was petite......perfectly petite..........and nimble looking.......but accented with muscles as if he played at least one sport growing up......and—oh God, stop it right now, Kuroo. You’re getting hard.
Bokuto next to him had beaten him to the punch on that front though. Someone like Bo who has been brain fried many-an-emo-mode and was used to that—instead, was already visualizing the honeymoon with the prince-like beauty adorned in black framed glasses. He looked like a walking talking GQ ad from hell, only because he looked kinda mean. Bokuto liked it. He liked everything. Loved, actually. Kōtarō’s jaw slacked even wider when he witnessed the boy tug on his fingers as he spoke. He thought it was the cutest thing ever and Bo wasn’t able to hear anything the model boy said but he fell in love with the voice nevertheless. Yup, Kōtarō was a goner.
It had only been a good 10 seconds that passed since the Raven and Owl faced their table in the busy restaurant, but the two fuckboy-sophmores stood there for the duration like absolute fools, staring at the three boys (with emphasis on their favourites) with wide eyes and dropped jaws. They couldn’t even stop themselves.
Bokuto’s brain function had turned to goo, but Kuroo’s brilliant mind was able to compartmentalize minimally, registering the fact that the pink haired one was standing the closest to Mattsun with the other two close behind. They weren’t joining Issei for brunch, they stood next to the table, from Kuroo‘s position it looked like the pretty boys either just got here or were just leaving, and they hadn’t noticed the two star struck men staring at the group like idiots. The attractive pink haired one laughed bodaciously at something Mattsun must have said to him, standing close enough to Issei to be friendly but far enough from him to not be perceived as an interested candidate looking to be fucked at some point. Kuroo was glad not to be noticed yet, however—lucking out that this was a bustling brunch spot and many people were standing and mingling, plus it was so loud what with the conversations, what with combined noise of the downtown traffic, and the music.
Kuroo couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he could sure as hell watch—happily, might he add—the three hotties all day if they let him, but only because he needed the other 2 there to distract himself from totally walking over to the cat looking guy and throwing him over his shoulder to take him home. The three of them there helped remind Kuroo that he and the blonde in fact weren’t the only two people on the planet. Tetsurō notes immediately that he wouldn’t mind if that were for the case, though.
Fuck, the fuckboy section of Kuroo’s brain groaned, feeling the butterflies that flew around in his belly when the blonde simply nudged and looked up at the model-looking one, leaning up to whisper something. I was worried this day would come, sighed his fuckboy conscience.
Tetsurō frowned.
Whatever the blonde scale-breaker had said to the model looking one was transferred to the ear of the pink haired one like a telephone game, and within seconds the most beautiful trio was wrapping up the ordeal. The pinkie checked the time on his phone and said a quick goodbye to Mattsun.
Mattsukawa waved dorkily—a gesture the Raven and the Owl have never seen before, as the three boys casually walked past Kuroo and himself, smelling like.....well, smelling like how you reckon the hottest boys on the face of the earth would smell.
Name the cologne ‘I’m Hot Asf and Everything About Me Will Make Your Mouth Water,’ scent, and call it a day.
Bokuto almost died when the one he had a fictional honeymoon with brushed his shoulder with his accidentally as they left.
“Sorry.” Glasses called coldly in passing, and Bo could only switch from staring at the model’s retreating figure and his shoulder like a freak.
Tetsurō could tell that that shoulder had now become Bokuto’s favourite body part.
When the Fuckboys turned automatically to stare at the pretty trio’s retreating figures, Kuroo noticed two things: 1) The one with the messy bun had a really nice ass, and 2) almost everyone else in the restaurant was staring at them as they left Uni Brunchette, too.
Go fucking figure, right?
They’re new. And they’re sexy as fuck.
Once man bun, glasses, and Pinkie were completely out of eyesight, Kuroo was moving before his brain even knew he was, walking over to their table and tugging a stunned Bo with him.
Tetsurō noticed that Mattsun had twisted in his seat already, most likely doing so to stare at the Pink haired’s retreat as well. Mainly, his ass, of course. Issei met eyes with the Raven next and gave him a knowing smirk before turning back around.
“Gentlemen.” Issei sat back in his chair and saluted the two friends he’s been waiting an hour for. “Took you long enough.”
Kuroo stole another look at the door where the short cat eyed God was, short circuiting for a memory of those big golden eyes for a moment. He swallowed the lump in his throat before force overriding his brain again and completely setting his attention on his perpetually-bored looking friend.
“Dude dude dude dude dude!!!!!!” Kuroo started before he’d even reached the table. “Who the FUCK was that!”
Mattsun glared at his big-eyed friends.
“Excuse you. No hello? No, ‘oh hey Mattsun sorry for being late again for the bajillionth time, Lemme pay for your meal?' None of that?”
Kuroo deadpanned, sliding into his seat.
“Is that why you weren’t berating us with messages for being late?! You were distracted by them?!!!”
Issei shrugged, then nodded slowly, taking a chug of his beer before giving his best friend a look that said:
Dude. Can you blame me?
Kuroo shook his head. “I’ll let it slide this time, because........” Kuroo made a gesture toward where the 3 guys were standing a minute ago. “....Whoa.” He finished, because that’s the best word that could describe their combined beauty—then he gave Issei his best pleading face. “Please. Bro. Tell me who he is.”
Like the little shit he is, seeing the desperate expression on his friend's face; Issei took another chug of a beer. A long ass chug. Taking his sweet as time.
“Ahhhhhh. That’s some good beer.” He wiped his mouth with his napkin slowly. “Which one?” Issei finally quipped, wanting to laugh at how Kuroo and Bo hung on to his every move like this was a television thriller.
“The blonde one.” “The brunette one!!” Said the two players in unison.
Mattsukawa smirked. He’s been in this position before: what with his two friends wanting the deets about someone they deemed attractive on campus that Mattsun happened to know, but Mastsukawa had never once seen his friends so desperate, so full of yearning like they might die if they aren't told—when asking. He expected it though, he expected to be graced with their pleading expressions as soon as he realized that the time that he called the pink haired one over to his table on their way out would coincide and intercept the time of Kuroo and Bokuto’s arrival.
“They’re Makki’s friends.” He answered finally.
Kuroo had enough sense to get comfortable in his usual seat across from Mattsun at that point—instead of just sitting on the edge in his initial hurry—, whereas Bokuto didn’t have enough sense to do so yet—bluntly staring over at the exit the three pretty boys left through 3 minutes ago as if staring would somehow make the model one reappear.
Out of his peripheral vision, Kuroo noticed people staring at the gray-haired boy weirdly, so he reached up to grab Bo’s arm, tugging him down so that he was sitting in his seat.
“Makki. Makki who?! I don’t know a Makki! And I know everyone you know. So who the fuck is Makki!”
“My future husband, if I play my cards right.” Mattsukawa winked.
Bokuto pulled at his own hair, whining loudly. “Ughhhh you’re not giving us shit that I can work with dumbass! We need to know full names, Mattsun. We need to know birthdays. We need to know how the FUCK they like their eggs in the morning, engagement ring sizes, or if they’re down to fuck—every night, for the rest of our lives.! What is wrong with you, Issei!?!” Tetsurō told Bokuto to take a deep breath because a vein was begging to pop out of Bo’s forehead and he didn't want that for his friend.. even though Kuroo was inclined to agree with everything that was said.
“— and since when do you have fuck-hot friends?” Kuroo added.
“Wait.. they're fuck-hot? Really? I didn’t notice.” Issei the little shit only grinned back with an eyebrow wiggle, loving that his friends were suffering right now due to his purposeful secrecy.
It’s what the late fuckers deserve, Issei thought, pleased by his friend's suffering. “It’s like you guys have never seen hot guys before.”
Kuroo slammed his fist on the table at once. “Ohoho,” started the Raven with dancing eyes. “Do not give me that cool guy smirk right now, Issei Matsukawa. I fully saw that menu slide from table to your lap. Getting chubby’s over a hot guy simply talking to you, now, are we?!”
Issei flushed, his entire face turning red as a tomato.
Bokuto barked out a laugh as Matsukawa let out a long groan, his head falling into his hands in defeat.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck.....” Mattsun groaned again “He was talking about getting ice cream after brunch and then I was picturing him licking an ice cream cone down the street and then my mind changed the ice cream into my dick and then........fuck......you think he noticed?”
Kuroo shook his head even though Issei couldn’t see it. He was the one smirking now. “Nah,” he reached over to take Mattsun’s beer and finish what was left in the glass. “I just know all your tells, but there is no way he would have been able to tell that you were about to hump the air.” He teased.
“Shut the fuck up,” Issei snapped, removing his hands from his face to glare before making a face. “And why are you so quiet now, Bokuto?”
Kōtarō, who was pretty quiet considering he was the most talkative of the crew, was just in his own world now, humming to himself looking like he was in Candy Land. The two middle blockers could guess, easily, that Kōtarō was busy day dreaming about that model looking guy.
Gross.
The server came over then, and Kuroo quickly gave the drink orders of him and his two friends that he knew so well. When the server left, The Raven turned back to his friend.
“How do you know them?! Tinder?”
“And where did he get his friends, ‘Hot Guys R Us’ !?” Kōtarō jumped back into the conversation then, asking his rhetorical question then melting back into his daydream like this was a game of hopscotch.
Mattsun ignored Bokuto, scoffing at Kuroo’s initial question.
“What? Hell no. I don’t need that fucking weak ass app to get my dick wet.”
“Oya, sure, okay buddy. So how do you know them, Casanova?”
Tetsurō watched in disgust as he saw the eyes of his dark haired best friend glaze over in admiration as he recounted the memory.
“Theyre my new neighbours in my new apartment building. Makki—his full name is Hanamaki Takahiro, hot, right? —knocked on my door to ask if I had some flour I could spare because they forgot and the stores were now closed and holy fuck if I didn’t almost drop to my knees for the man right there. He’s gorgeous, right? The best looking dude I’ve ever seen, and that pink hair?! Oh my God😍. Man, and I’ve been so fucking pissed at my parents lately for making me move out after Bo posted that video, but then I saw Makki and his friends moving in yesterday, and now.....well, I decided to send my parents a thank you card instead. As major thanks.”
Kuroo laughed his cackle laugh. “Okay, hot neighbours, flour, thank you card...dude. I got it. Please stop teasing now. Makki is super hot, yes, and completely your type, but PLEASE tell me about the blonde one!”
Mattsun took another long gulp of his drink for shits and giggles. Kuroo’s leg starting shaking from the anticipation.
“The short one, right?”
“Yesssssssssssssssssssssssssssssss.” Kuroo hissed, reaching over and grabbing Makkis t-shirt. He was SICK of the games! “Yes. The short one. The only one with long hair. COME ON, ISSEI.”
“He’s really cute, huh? Totally your type, I mean—if your type was called: out-of-your-league-and-you-don’t-stand-a-chance.” Issei shrugged as if Kuroo didn’t have his shirt in a death grip.
Kuroo was about to murder him.
His thoughts were swimming with visuals of the short male’s soft features and tight backside visible through his pants, Kuroo was so enthralled by the attractive boy that he was dizzy with.... is it lust? Uh, Yeah, has to be lust. Right?
Tetsurō spoke through clenched teeth, trying his best to keep his composure. “Matsukawa. Issei. Do. You. Want. To. Make. It. To. Junior. Year.?”
Mattsun nodded, “Ideally,”
“Then. Tell. Me. About. The Blonde. PLEASE.”
“Kinky. Oh, I just love a man who isn’t afraid to beg....."
Kuroo almost erupts like a volcano then... about to do God-knows-what to his sarcastic friend—before he realized that just like how he handled his other best friend outside when he stomped his foot pre-temper-tantrum, Tetsurō could not, under any circumstances, play into their games.
Thinking quickly, the Raven devised a plan to get the information he wanted. Releasing his friends shirt, Kuroo leaned back in his chair with a cocky smile.
“Don’t want to tell me? Great. I’ll just go to your apartment and slip a picture of you from last year’s New Years Party under every apartment door on your floor. I’m just suuuure that your precious Makki would love to see you in a pile of—.”
For the second time in the span of 20 minutes, Matsukawa’s face drained of blood, the smirk he had on his face slipping down alongside the removal of blood.
“—You wouldn’t...” He muttered in horror, as if he was looking at a ghost from Paranormal Activity itself.
Kuroo let out a thoughtful sigh, raising his hand to inspect the nails he is man enough to admit he gets manicured. “The blondie broke my scale.” Kuroo responded, knowing Issei would understand the weight of those words. The weight of Kuroo’s entire love life since he was 14 relied on that scale... he is the hardest marker in the world and now someone managed to not just get a 10, but managed to break it.
The admittance made Issei gasp and his jaw drop in unadulterated incredulity.
“He surpassed it, then broke it. So, slip pictures of you from New Year’s under your ‘future husband’s’ door if you don’t tell me what you know? Oh yeah, yeah, I would.” Tetsurō finished evilly.
Not seeing an ounce of faltering or insincerity in the Ravens dark expression, Mattsun had no other choice but to speak quickly.
“The blonde is Kenma. I forget the surname. Computer Science major. Brown haired one is Akaashi—“
“Akaashi............” hummed the gray Owl next to them dreamily. His smile grew so large it looked like the spiker’s face might split in two. “Akaashi Kōtarō................” He was still thinking about their honeymoon.
Turning back, Mattsun continued. “Akaashi is a Japanese Lit major, and All 3 of them are first years at our University. So they just started, and just moved here from rural Japan. Hanamaki is our age, though. He just took a gap year after high school.”
Kuroo grinned.
Kenma. Beautiful name. “Single?” Kuroo asked, not that that would change his decision to pursue Kenma anyway, but it would change the ways and manners in which he went about it.
“Uh, not sure. For any of them.”
“Is that all you know about them?” Kuroo pushed.
Issei nodded. “Well, yeah, duh. I just met them last night. You can only pretend to look for a damn bag of flour for so long until the jig is up. I lasted for almost 5 minutes so I could talk to Makki longer, but that was the best I could do. I wanted to know about him, not his friends, sorry.”
When Kuroo nodded, Mattsun continued:
“Now I’m at brunch the next day waiting on you shitheads, I saw them leaving and offered them recommendations on the best food spots here if they wanted dessert. Cue Makki telling me he wants ice cream and me hearing his sexxxxy voice say ‘ice cream’ and I automatically think about rolling an ’Ice’ cube on his nipple as I shoot my own ’Cream’ inside him.”
“Okay, that I didn’t need to fucking hear. We’re about to eat, you dumbass.”
Issei blushed slightly. “Sorry, bro. I've never met someone that makes me so horny by just existing, before.”
“Hmmmmm......... Ice cream......no, Akaashi, you can have all the flavours because you deserve the world!...........” hummed the Owl😇, looking like the textbook definition of spacey. The epitome of a space case.
Kuroo shook his head at Mattsun. If he wasn’t so disappointed and filled with regret that all he heard about the best looking man he’s ever seen was his name and major when he could have been learning so much more if only he'd left the house sooner, he would have laughed. He was pissed. “Dude. Next time, introduce us, kay?”
“Sure. But that’s what you fuckheads get for being late. If you guys didn’t leave me here all alone like assholes, you would have been sitting here when I called them over. You probably would have gotten the digits of pretty Kenma,”
Kuroo’s heart clenched, because for some reason he was already feeling protective over the petite blonde, not liking the idea of anyone else finding him as pretty as he did. If Kuroo didn’t see the glazed over expression on Mattsun a minute ago when he remembered the first time he saw Makki--knowing that was a telltale sign that the boy was fucked--Tetsuro would have made Mattsun take the phrase ‘pretty Kenma’ back.
This isn’t good.
Mattsun saw the flash of fury cross the Raven’s eyes anyway, and it filled Issei with glee that it seemed like he wouldn’t have to endure this torture that ensues when you see someone so fucking hot you’d probably give them your bank account passwords if they asked—alone, because his friends were obviously just as screwed. Delightfully, Issei turned to his Owl friend.
“And if Bokuto was here when I called them over, he would have.........” Issei stopped when he witnessed the way Bo was smiling to himself as if he was having a conversation with the brunette whom has no idea he exists in his head. The middle blockers cringed. “Well, honestly.... it’s probably a good thing that Bo wasn’t here to talk to Akaashi. He probably would have asked him how many kids he wants them to adopt or something.”
“Four..........” Bo hummed again, jumping back in to the convo as if they asked him a question. “First born will be named Akaashi Junior, second is Agaashi, then Akgaashi & then....Pinenut.” Kōtarō smiled widely as the dark haired best friends exchanged creeped-out glances.
The server returned not a moment too soon, placing their drinks down and asking if the boys wanted their regular brunch orders. Kuroo nodded, always the all-knowing friend, and the server walked away to punch that in.
“Serious question. When is the last time you've seen guys that hot?” Mattsun asked, the horny side of his mind wondering what kind of ice cream Hanamaki was tasting right now. Oh, that means Makki’s tongue currently tastes like ice cream, mmm.........😩 Mattsun felt a semi coming on annoyingly.
“Never. And I check out a lot of fucking guys.”
“Same. Do You think they walk around in just their underwear when they’re at home? Lounging, cooking, taking showers together to save water?”
Kuroo groaned, fighting off a semi himself at the thought of Kenma without clothes. “Please Stop,” He warned.
Mattsun laughed. While the visual he mentioned was hot, his mind switched Makki’s shower partners to just himself in a heartbeat, biting and claiming the smooth skin there as he pulled that wet strawberry hair back for more access, fuck.
“Would you give up half your ‘on-call-to-fuck’ list for a chance to fuck Kenma?” Mattsun posed, trying his best to get his mind off taking Makki up against the shower wall.
While that should be a hard question to answer, Tetsurō responded without even having to think about it. “Hell. Yes.” He stated surely.
“Same. For Makki.”
They were fucked.
“Would you cut off that guy with the amazing arch you told us about, if Hanamaki wanted to be your only friend with benefits?”
Mattsukawa did not miss a beat, nodding. “Yes, absolutely. I’d do anything to get between those legs. When he asked for flour last night he was wearing pyjama shorts and his legssss—“
“That’s it, we’re coming over tonight.” Kuroo interrupted matter of factly, trying his best to drown out Bokuto’s sickening lovey dovey mumbles.
“What! Why?! I thought we were watching the game at your place because you guys have the big screen t—ohhhhhhhh........... you fucking devil!”
Kuroo grinned. “Maybe your new hot neighbours watch sports too. We'll have to invite them.”
Issei shook his head, taking a sip of his third beer. “Nah, they don’t.”
“Okay. Then maybe they need to know about some absolutely imperative thing about the building that must be told in-person x3 and then maybe they need to be told some more imperative things over some dinner.”
Mattsun’s eyebrows met in the middle. “Really....? That’s the best you can come up with?”
“Shut the fuck up, New Years Baby. My brain is shot after seeing the hottest guy I’ve ever laid my eyes on, thank you very much.”
“STOP CALLING ME THAT!”
—-
*** MEANWHILE, at the Ice Cream Shop Down The Street ***
*Iphone Ringtone sounding*
“Here, Keiji, take these napkins.” Hanamaki Takahiro handed a stack of napkins to one of his best friends Akaashi Keiji before answering a phone call.
Kenma and Keiji sat there watching as Hanamaki’s face lit up when he read who was calling on the screen.
“Hi, babe!!!!” Takahiro belted into the phone. So loud and so full of excitement that it made the two quiet men flinch. Makki saw the flinch and mouthed a quick apology, before stepping away from their table for a bit to speak to his boyfriend from afar.
Kenma Kozume and Akaashi sighed, happy for the ability to be spared from their pink-haired friends love spell and baby voice. They hear it enough at home.
“They’re good together,” Kozume remarks distractedly.
Beside him, Akaashi shrugs. “Sure. Absolutely. Whatever.”
The blonde turned to his dark haired roommate who is also his best friend. “Are you ever gonna stop being so bitter about your ex? Not every guy is like that, you know..... not every relationship ends as horribly as yours.....”
Akaashi glared at the shorter male. “Gee, thanks. And No, I won’t. Besides, I am not bitter, I just hate men.”
Kenma deadpanned. “But you are a man?”
“Unfortunately.”
“And you love men.”
“I’m gay, yes, so my betrayal dick loves men. Unfortunately. But my head? No. He Hates them.” Keiji dug into his ice cream with a huff.
“So, if the perfect guy were to—um—fall from the sky right now, someone that looked like Chris Hemsworth, holding your favourite flowers, a bouquet of blue roses, guaranteeing you a life of happiness—you’re telling me you wouldn’t go for it?”
Akaashi pictures it with a solemn expression, and for a second Kenma thought he got through to him—but then the brunettes face hardened and he growled. “Absolutely the fuck not.” He said definitively. “Never will I ever give a male a glimpse into my heart again. My pants, maybe.... and that’s if I’m desperate to get dicked down, but I have a dozen new toys for that, so even that is unlikely.”
Kenma hummed, unsurprised. “Some guys are good, Akaashi. Just saying. It makes me mad that good people like you turn into love haters after being emotionally abused, when in all honestly, it is the jerks like your ex that deserve to be miserable and should never get a chance at true happiness! They deserve what’s coming to them, for sure. It isn’t hard to be a decent human being. I don’t even like people besides you guys and I’m more decent than these so-called extraverts. I mean, I get the whole hook-up culture of our generation, but why be such a douchebag about it? Like, how much of an asshole do you have to be to date a guy, fuck him in the backseat of your car, and then not even drop him all the way home—just at a bus stop because his house was on the other side of town?! And on top of that, when he texts you about it, all he gets in return is a message saying only 6s/10 and up get drives home???!!! I mean, WHAT DOES THAT EVEN MEAN! It’s absolutely despicable behaviour.”
Akaashi quirked an eyebrow, catching on midway through the monologue that Kenma wasn’t just talking about Keiji’s ex anymore. Kozume never spoke this much, so Akaashi knew this was something that Kozume really fucking cared about. However, the boy with the stylish glasses knew the blonde wasn’t talking about himself, so.......
“Care to share anything, Kenma? Does this have anything to do with that Senior guy you know from diapers that goes to this University?”
Kenma nodded with a deadpan expression. “Yes. His name is Hinata and he’s a really good friend of mine. He’s coming over tonight, actually. To see the new place and give us a welcoming gift and stuff.”
Akaashi nodded. “Cool. I can’t wait to meet him and exchange stories about how shitty men are. I really want to know what kind of God-complex jerk still rates people using numbers like the world is his a laboratory or something. What a piece of shit.”
“Right!?” Kenma continued to pick at his dessert as Hanamaki made his way back over with a blissfully in-love aura. Kenma was happy for his friend.
“I’d love to get back at a guy like that, y’know? Give him a taste of his own medicine. See how he likes getting his heart and emotions played with. How he likes being treated like shit.” Kozume frowned as he spoke, losing his appetite and sliding his barely-touched ice cream sundae away from him. He took out his Nintendo Switch to calm him anger.
“Uh oh. What did I miss?” Hanamaki stated, slipping into his seat and directing his question to his dark haired friend only, knowing Kenma was done chatting for the day.
Akaashi smiled handsomely.
“What did you miss? Well, you missed the way our new neighbour was mercilessly eye-fucking you when he told us about this place,” Kenji gestures toward the ice cream place they were currently sitting in.
Hanamaki shrugged. “I didn’t miss it. And he’s kind of cute—in some weedhead, brooding kind of way. And his tatts are hot. But I just don’t care. I’m practically married, you know.”
Akaashi rolled his eyes. “Lucky you.” He muttered sarcastically, giving him two claps in applause.
“Ohhhhh Akaashi you are way too handsome to take yourself off the market like you’re doing—the extra movers we had yesterday were basically begging you for your number and the pale one was—“
“Save it. Whether he’s a Mover or a fucking Surgeon, I don’t care. Men suck, and that’s that. Just... make sure you continue to be nice to that neighbour that can’t help but eye-fuck you, okay? His bag of flour was literally the most prestigious flour I’ve ever seen, Gordon Ramsey type ingredients, so we might need him to be our grocery store on other occasions, okay?.”
Hanamaki nodded, smiling at both of his friends.
“Gotcha. Also, I’m having Hirugami over tonight since he just told me over the phone that he’s in town on business! He says wants to watch the game at our place!”
“Sure, sure,” Mumbles the bitter man. “Kenma has someone coming over too. So, the more the merrier. I’ll make dinner for everyone.”
“Awesome!”
***
Little did both trios (fuckboy and prettyboy) know, as they ate on separate patios.... that hours from then... they were about to embark on a dramatic journey of—well, drama........starting the moment Kuroo knocks on their door.