like , really , there’s no subtlety about it. bokuto hasn’t noticed , too busy commentating on his complaints whenever his character fails to land the final blow. whining about how he keeps pressing the right combo and that kuroo’s controllers must be whack because there’s no way. no way ! he doesn’t know if that’s a blessing in disguise or god is just trying to fuck with him. he assumes the latter , because now he’s biting into a swollen lip , red from sinking his teeth in over and over. tongue dragging over it in a way that makes kuroo lick his own and , fuck. he’s fucked. absolutely , irrevocably , fucked.
he watches as the owl tosses the controller down , arms crossing over his chest. the sleeves of his shirt straining around full biceps. and , god , he’s still going. but it’s all white noise at this point. bokuto’s voice is just a buzz in his ears , and he really , really , wants to shut him up.
but what his brain tells him is vacuously different from what his body does. his hands already moving , and instead of the casual , playful shove he expects to happen. he’s tapping bokuto on the shoulder , that same hand reaching for the back of his neck. feels the hair that’s grown a bit too long there , and kisses him.
it’s effective , sure. but now there’s a noise in kuroo’s head that’s panicking. screaming. pleading for him to pull back , shove bokuto down for real and fucking bolt. he’s pretty sure his body’s gone into shock , ‘cause it’s bokuto that pulls back . mouth gaping and looking hilariously like the first fish he caught when he was eleven. the shock leaves , painfully slow , and kuroo does his best to school his expression , steady the breath that’s threatening to spill out in gasps. “ you seriously would not shut up. “