Archive of Our Own ^beta

Tsukishima never asked for much for Christmas, but if he could have just one thing this year, he would probably wish for his ex-boyfriend to disappear.

Not, like, forever or anything. Just in this particular moment in time.

All he wanted was a ride to the train station. He had lugged his stupid suitcase three blocks in the blistering cold, shouldering past the holiday crowds and getting his feet stepped on by sticky-fingered little kids slobbering on candy canes, just so that Akaashi, his angel of a friend, could drive him to the train station. It was Christmas Eve, and he just wanted to catch his train and go home to see his family.

What he did not want was to finally, blessedly see the Mecca of Akaashi and Bokuto’s apartment building appear over the horizon, promising solace and warmth and a ride, only for the view to be marred by possibly the last person on Earth he expected to see.

Because, said person, was supposed to be on the other side of the planet.

Only the back of their head and the indistinct outline of their body beneath their bulky winter coat are visible, but that’s all Tsukishima needs to recognize them. Really, that hair is impossible to mistake for anyone else.

His heart trips into his throat.

“Kuroo.”

Even though Tsukishima was the one to initiate the conversation, he’s still wholly unprepared when Kuroo turns, eyes widened in surprise.

He looks good. No, better than good. Which, as Tsukishima’s ex-boyfriend, he can’t help but resent. It feels like an entire lifetime has passed, when really it’s only been a few years since Tsukishima last saw Kuroo, with his bags all stuffed into the backseat of Bokuto’s car on his way to the airport.

He’s tanner now, though he’s always been much darker than Tsukishima, and even with the bulky winter coat on, it’s obvious he had gotten broader and more muscled, too. He’s also apparently taken to keeping a bit of stubble on his face, trimmed just so to accentuate the sharpness of his jawline, more defined than Tsukishima remembers it being. Shit, you could cut glass with a jawline like that.

His eyes are the same, though. Half-lidded and feline, always with a twinkle of childlike mischief. And his hair is the same, too. A ridiculous nest of pitch black horror, sticking up in every direction.

Tsukishima’s heart feels like it’s trying to jump out of his chest.

“Tsukki!” Kuroo shifts his bags to one arm so he can awkwardly offer Tsukishima his hand in an aborted handshake that morphs into a fist bump, and eventually settles on an awkward half-hug. “Hey, um, hi. Wow, you look… What are you doing here?”

Tsukishima shrugs and tries not to wonder too hard about how Kuroo was going to finish, Wow, you look…

“What am I doing here? What - What are you even doing in Tokyo?”

Kuroo scuffs the toe of his boots on the pavement and gives Tsukishima a sheepish smile that shouldn’t still be as boyishly charming as it was when he was seventeen. “Got back a few weeks ago, actually.”

“Oh,” Tsukishima says faintly. His mind is still having trouble processing that Kuroo is standing in front of him right now, let alone the fact that they’ve been in the same city for weeks now, and he had no idea. What if he ran into Kuroo again for the first time in nearly three years at the corner store at midnight in his pajamas buying (another) pint of strawberry ice cream? He shudders at the thought. “To answer your question, Akaashi said he’d drive me to the train station. I’m heading home for the holidays.”

“No kidding? Me, too! Bokuto said he would - Oh, wait…” Kuroo trails off, eyebrows drawing together and creasing the bridge of his nose. Tsukishima stuffs his hands into his pockets to stop himself from reaching out and smoothing the wrinkled skin with his fingertips.

“They only have one car.”

“Right.”

“Yeah.”

At that moment, the door buzzes and the sound of the lock un-clicking rings out jarringly between them. Kuroo props it open with a foot to keep it unlocked, but neither of them moves to walk in.

The train station isn’t really that far away, in the grand scheme of Tokyo. Tsukishima would probably miss the earlier train he was planning on taking, but he could catch the next. If he switches his bag between his arms every other block, he should be able to keep his shoulders from dislocating themselves from his body in retaliation. No big deal.

“Well,” Kuroo chews his lip in thought before pulling the door open and gesturing grandly for Tsukishima to enter. “After you.”

Tsukishima walks in, only because it would’ve just been immature of him not to at that point.

The thing about their breakup was that Kuroo didn’t love Tsukishima any less at the end of their relationship than he did at the start of it.

Tsukishima was his first real love, as awkward and fumbling as love can be when you’re only a teenager. That love grew and matured with them, through years of flirting and dancing around each other until they finally officially got together. Moved in together, got a set of matching dish towels, referred to themselves as ‘we’ when making plans with their friends - the whole nine yards.

The break up was nobody’s fault. Kuroo got offered a research position in Costa Rica a few years into their relationship, and they both agreed that it was an amazing opportunity and there was no way he could pass it up. Tsukishima was the one to officially end their relationship, though Kuroo never resented him for it.

It was a clean break. No messy fighting or fall-out. Just Tsukishima saying, ‘I think we should call it,’ and Kuroo not saying no.

Getting over someone as brilliant as Tsukishima didn’t happen overnight. It didn’t happen in a few weeks, or even a few months either. But Kuroo threw himself into his work, logged more hours than anyone else in his program, and kept his mind busy with anything other than images of pretty honeycomb eyes blinking up at him from below blonde lashes, and long, pale legs wrapped around his waist, and lips that tasted like artificial strawberries pressed to the corners of his mouth, breathing quiet laughter into his lungs.

Instead, he focused on frogs. Lots and lots of frogs, until the memories of Tsukishima Kei were pushed so far back into his subconscious, he could breathe again.

He knew that Akaashi was still in contact with Tsukishima pretty regularly, so whenever he video chatted with him and Bokuto, he tried to casually bring up the blonde in conversation, just to get a little hint on how he was doing. But Akaashi was unfortunately a very good friend, which made getting any information about Tsukishima out of him like trying to crack a steel vault.

Seeing him in person again today, Kuroo can confidently say that Tsukishima has been doing just fine for himself. His cheeks are flushed a healthy pink from the cold, blonde curls ruffled by the wind, and long legs as endless as ever in his fitted jeans. And is that…an earring?

Holy shit, Tsukishima Kei has a goddamned earring. A little crescent moon stud, stuck right there in the middle of his earlobe, for all the world to see.

It looks pretty, a delicate gold that glints in the morning sunlight and matches his warm eyes.

Shit, no. Bad Kuroo. Don’t stare into your ex’s eyes like a total creep.

Though, staring in his eyes is probably better than staring at his ass. Kuroo has to actually push past Tsukishima in the stairwell so that he’s in front and doesn’t have to deal with the temptation any longer. Seriously, what were they feeding that guy? Did he start doing squats?

Tsukishima makes a small, affronted noise, but doesn’t comment any further on Kuroo’s strange behavior, luckily.

“Bro!” Bokuto swings the door open, clearly only expecting Kuroo. “Oh.” His eyes go comically round when they land on Tsukishima, tall and surly at Kuroo’s side. “Tsukki! You’re here, too! You’re both here!” He repeats, louder and more pointed.

“Come on in, guys,” Akaashi’s head pokes out from the kitchen. “Just drop your bags at the door.”

It’s the first time the four of them have been all together since the break up and Kuroo’s departure for Costa Rica, and he can’t help the rush of nostalgia and familiarity he feels when they all crowd into the small kitchen together. Memories of all the nights the two of them spent sitting at that very kitchen table with Bokuto and Akaashi, drinking wine and playing footsies under the table until Akaashi very calmly pointed out, ‘I can see you, you know,’ and Tsukishima would blush redder than the wine and Kuroo would just laugh and pelt Bokuto with breadsticks while he made fake-gagging noises.

“So, as you can see, there was a bit of a miscommunication,” Akaashi starts, bringing Kuroo crashing back to the present.

“You don’t say,” Tsukishima drawls.

Akaashi winces apologetically. “When I told you that I could take you to the train station, I didn’t realize that Bokuto had already promised to drive Kuroo at the same time.”

“At least you guys are going to the same place, right?” Bokuto jumps in. “We can still take you both!”

“If that’s alright with you guys, that is,” Akaashi says, giving Tsukishima a careful look. “We can always take turns if one of you doesn’t mind catching a later train.”

It feels like the entire universe holds its breath as Tsukishima purses his lips and slowly looks at Kuroo out of the corner of his eye. Kuroo doesn’t really know how to react, being the subject of such a contemplative look, so he raises his hand in a lame wave. The corner of Tsukishima’s mouth turns up, just the slightest bit, before he quickly flattens it out again.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he finally says. “That would be a waste of gas.”

Akaashi and Bokuto share a strange look with hints of smiles that make Kuroo afraid, though he can’t put his finger on why.

“Great!” Bokuto bounces on the balls of his feet. “Just wait here while we grab our coats, and then we can all hit the road together!”

“We’ll be right back,” Akaashi promises, grabbing Bokuto by the sleeve and hauling him out of the room. Kuroo thinks he catches a glimpse of him raising his phone to his ear as they go, but he can’t be sure.

And then, it’s just him and Tsukishima.

He starts drumming his fingers on the table just to fill the silence, but Tsukishima suddenly speaks and interrupts his Cardi B medley.

“That was weird, right? Like, they were definitely being weird?”

“You noticed, too?” Kuroo exhales, relieved. “I thought it was just me, but that was definitely weird, yeah. Do you think something’s wrong?”

Tsukishima frowns and begins tapping his own fingers on the table. Both of them had a habit of doing it when they were bored or thinking, though Kuroo doesn’t know if they just developed it on their own, or one of them picked it up from the other. Whatever the case, their apartment used to sound like the drum line section of a high school band when they were both deep in thought.

“No, I don’t think that’s it. They both seemed almost…too happy. Don’t you think?” He cocks his head to the side and regards Kuroo with that same innocent, inquisitive look that had roped him in, hook, line, and sinker ten years ago.

“Yeah,” Kuroo swallows his heart back into his chest. “That’s exactly it.”

Tsukishima hums to himself before pushing himself off of where he was leaning against the counter. “I’m just going to ask Akaashi about it. I have to talk to him about something else, anyways.”

Kuroo hears Tsukishima’s footsteps down the hall, and a few doors opening and closing. He hears Tsukishima’s voice calling, “Akaashi? Bokuto?” a few times, but doesn’t hear a response.

“Kuroo!” Tsukishima calls from the other room after a couple more minutes of radio silence. “They’re - They’re gone? They’re both gone!”

Following some blind suspicion, Kuroo pokes his head into the foyer and groans. Well, that answers that.

“Yeah, get this,” he shouts back. “So is our luggage.”

“What?” Tsukishima is back in an instant. “What - Why would they - All my gifts for my family were in there!”

“Mine, too,” Kuroo laments. Shit, and he had done so well this year, too. His older sister was absolutely going to die for the new motorcycle helmet he got her.

Tsukishima starts to pace, which Kuroo knows is never a good sign. One hand is tugging at his hair while his other furiously punches at his phone screen before lifting it to his ear, muttering to himself under his breath. He curses Akaashi loudly when there’s no answer, and the cycle repeats again, probably with Bokuto’s phone number this time.

While he’s busy doing that, Kuroo wanders over to the front door and tries the handle a few times, genuinely curious as to how they had snuck out without either of them hearing a thing. It was pretty impressive, honestly.

That’s when he notices the post-it note stuck to the door.

“Um, Tsukki?” He plucks the note off the door. “You might want to see this.”

“What?” Tsukishima snaps, wheeling on him with eyes narrowed dangerously. It’s unfortunately very much turning Kuroo on, even though he knows Tsukishima is a hazard to everyone within a hundred mile radius of him when he’s this pissed off. “What the hell is that?

“If I had to guess… I would say it’s a riddle. Or maybe a clue?”

“A clue?” Tsukishima repeats incredulously. “What exactly does it say? Read it to me.”

Kuroo chuckles awkwardly. “You’ve heard that saying about not shooting the messenger, right?” Tsukishima’s eyes narrow further. Kuroo gulps. “Alright, it, uh, says…

I’m sure you’re both wondering where your bags have ran
If you want to get them back, go to the place where it all began.

Tsukishima blinks at him, most of his rage dissipated now to make way for utter disbelief and confusion. Kuroo doesn’t blame him, this is definitely not how he planned on spending his day.

“Is that all it says?”

“Bay.”

“Bay?” Tsukishima repeats, nose scrunched up cutely.

“Here, at the bottom.” Kuroo holds over the note so Tsukishima can read it himself. The blonde’s expression darkens immediately.

“It doesn’t say ‘bay’, Kuroo. It says ‘B-A-Y’. It’s a sign-off.”

“Oh,” Kuroo nods like he completely understands, even though he’s at maybe sixty-percent comprehension of the situation at this point. “So it stands for Bokuto, Akaashi, and…?”

Tsukishima crumples the note in his hand. “Yamaguchi,” he grits out.

Kuroo has never been so happy to not be Yamaguchi Tadashi in his entire life. Tsukishima’s fingers fly across the screen of his phone furiously, too fast for Kuroo’s eyes to keep track of. It seems he’s given up on hoping for someone to answer his calls, and has resorted to rapid-fire, all caps texts, surely full of a litany of curses and creative threats to their lives.

No one is going to respond. Kuroo knows that, and he’s sure Tsukishima does, too, so he doesn’t mention it. Just lets Tsukishima blow off some steam for a few more minutes. Eventually he jams his phone back into his pocket, letting out a heavy exhale and dropping onto the couch. Following his lead, Kuroo takes the spot next to him, making sure to leave a respectable distance between them.

“They set us up.”

“Yeah.” Kuroo nods.

“You realize why, don’t you?”

Kuroo feels his face heat up and tries for a smile, though it feels like a grimace. “They’re trying to get us back together.”

“Stupid,” Tsukishima scoffs quietly.

“Totally,” Kuroo agrees, squashing down the tiny geyser of hope bubbling up inside of him.

“Are we really going to play along with this stupid scheme?”

“I don’t really see what other choice we have, if either of us wants to get home to see our families for the holidays,” Kuroo admits.

Tsukishima purses his lips, obviously finding no other solution. “Fine. Let’s get this over with, then.”

“Aw, come on! Don’t look at it that way. Maybe it’ll be fun.”

“And maybe I’ll win the lottery tomorrow.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t even enter,” Kuroo says sagely. Tsukishima’s lips twitch at the corners again. For some reason, Kuroo is more determined to get him to smile at least once today than he has been about anything in a long time.

“How do you propose we get to Shinzen High, then?”

Kuroo blinks at him. “What?”

Tsukishima rolls his eyes and gestures to the note in Kuroo’s hand. “You want to play along, I’m playing along. This whole scavenger hunt is clearly based on our relationship, and you and I first got together at -”

“The summer Tokyo training camp,” Kuroo realizes. “But wait, we didn’t start dating until like two years after that?”

The tips of Tsukishima’s ears turn red. “True, but the Tokyo training camp was where the first, ah, incident took place.”

“Ooooh,” Kuroo smirks. “You mean because you kissed me?”

It was a reach to call what happened that day a kiss. Just the softest brush of Tsukishima’s lips against his before the blonde pulled away with his cheeks flaming, but it was more than enough to leave Kuroo’s heart in a state of disarray. The most important part was the intention behind it rather than the actual kiss itself.

“Only because you obviously wanted to kiss me but were too much of a coward to do it!”

Kuroo laughs at the indignant look on Tsukishima’s face. “Yeah, you got me there. And then you told me that I was the most infuriating person you had ever met in your life, and that I better keep in touch. Honestly, it was more threatening than flirting.”

“Well, it clearly worked, because you gave me your number and you said -” Tsukishima falters very slightly, eyes darting away. “You said that you would wait for me.”

“That I did,” Kuroo agrees softly. And that was exactly what he had done. Tsukishima had only been fifteen at the time, but they texted every day and even talked on the phone a few times a week after that, and Kuroo was perfectly content to wait as long as he needed to for Tsukishima to be ready. The day they finally did get together officially was perhaps the best day of his life.

“So,” Tsukishima continues, “if we had never gone to that training camp together, we very well may have never ended up dating. By that logic, Shinzen High is where it all technically began.”

“Tsukki,” Kuroo grabs his shoulders excitedly. “You’re brilliant!”

Tsukishima flushes at the praise, and Kuroo has missed that very specific shade of pink more than he cares to admit. “I’ve only solved half the problem, don’t get too far ahead of yourself. Neither of us has a car, and the trains probably won’t have any last minute tickets since it’s a holiday.”

“Maybe they left us some tickets or something?” Kuroo suggests. “Let’s check the kitchen.”

They don’t find any train tickets in the kitchen. What they do find, however, is a set of cars keys.

“Yamaguchi must have picked them up,” Tsukishima says, dangling the keys from his fingertips. “How thoughtful,” he adds drily.

“Perfect! We can easily drive out to Shinzen and back with plenty of time to catch our trains home.” Kuroo reaches to take the keys from Tsukishima’s outstretched fingertips. The blonde snatches them away.

“Why do you have to drive?” Tsukishima sharply raises a brow.

“Um, because I want to make it there in one piece?”

Tsukishima’s jaw drops. “Are you saying I’m a bad driver?”

“No, not all,” Kuroo says and Tsukishima’s anger visibly deflates. “What you do behind the wheel of a car can’t even be considered driving.”

A lovely red hue suffuses Tsukishima’s cheeks. “There’s nothing wrong with my driving!”

“Yeah,” Kuroo snorts. “If you’re a hundred year old blind dog. Why do you think I always insisted on driving when we borrowed Bokuto and Akaashi’s car for date nights?”

“I thought -!” Tsukishima cuts himself off too quickly to not be suspicious. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. You can drive.”

“You just thought what?” Kuroo presses, curious at how easily Tsukishima had given in.

“Nothing.”

“Didn’t sound like nothing.”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Ah, so there is business, though?”

“There’s no business!”

“How bad can it be, huh?” Kuroo needles. “What’s a few embarrassing secrets between exes?”

The moment the ugly word leaves his mouth, the joke falls flat. Tsukishima’s expression remains carefully unchanged, but Kuroo notices his lip curl the slightest bit at the reminder. Exes.

“I thought,” Tsukishima starts again, more slowly and refusing to meet Kuroo’s eye, “that you just liked getting to drive around the city with one hand on the wheel and the other…”

Subconsciously, Kuroo’s eyes drift down Tsukishima’s body to his mile-long legs. His fingers twitch with the phantom warmth of Tsukishima’s thigh beneath his hand, squeezing the lean muscle and grinning at him over the center console, watching the city lights play across his face in reds and yellows and blues.

His gaze snaps back up to Tsukishima’s face guiltily. “While that was definitely a perk, I was mostly thinking about keeping all of my vertebrae in their proper positions.”

Tsukishima snorts something close to a laugh, eyes finally meeting Kuroo’s again, and for a moment Kuroo swears he can see vibrant reds and yellows and blues reflected back at him in them. But then he blinks again, and they’re back to their usual honeycomb gold.

“I’m driving,” Tsukishima says decisively. Kuroo knows it’s hopeless to try and change his mind.

“Tsukki, slow - Tsukki! That light was red!”

“It was yellow!”

“Yeah, like, five minutes ago!”

Tsukishima growls under his breath, white-knuckling his grip on the steering wheel. They were barely even out of the city yet, and he was surprised Kuroo still had any oxygen left in his lungs with the way he had been non-stop criticizing his driving since the moment his foot touched the gas pedal. He doesn’t remember the last time he drove with Kuroo in the passenger seat, which he realizes now was entirely purposeful on Kuroo’s part, but he definitely does not remember him being such a nagging co-pilot.

“I’m going to abandon you on the side of the road if you say one more word.”

“You -”

Tsukishima jerks the wheel to the side, almost throwing the car onto the shoulder, and Kuroo lets out a shriek that makes him almost want to laugh, if he wasn’t so annoyed.

“That was a word.” He sees Kuroo scowl and cross his arms out of his peripheral, settling back into his seat like a petulant child.

Tsukishima takes a deep inhale and lets it out slowly, loosening his grip on the wheel. Kuroo’s nerves are making him nervous now, and he’s…admittedly not that great of a driver in the first place.

Kuroo was always the better driver, but what Tsukishima hadn’t admitted earlier was that he never fought Kuroo’s decision to drive because he loved watching Kuroo drive - probably more than the other man enjoyed doing it himself. He always looked so confident and cool behind the wheel of a car, like the roguishly handsome lead in some blockbuster action movie.

(And maybe Kuroo wasn’t the only one who enjoyed when he was steering with one hand and keeping the other one firmly on Tsukishima’s thigh.)

It’s only about thirty minutes to Shinzen High, but Kuroo seems intent on taking Tsukishima’s advice and doesn’t say another word for the next ten minutes. He plays with the volume on the radio and makes a few muffled noises of terror when Tsukishima turns too sharply or forgets to check his rearview mirror before merging into another lane. What a baby.

Finally, Tsukishima can’t stand the silence anymore.

“How was your trip?”

“Oh? Am I allowed to say another word now?”

“Forget it, I don’t care anymore.”

“I’m only teasing, Tsukki, don’t get so wound up.” Kuroo folds his hands behind his head and kicks his feet up onto the dashboard. Tsukishima has half a mind to reprimand him, but then he remembers that this isn’t his car, and that the owner of this car is the entire reason he’s in this situation in the first place. “The trip was really great, actually. My team had a lot of really cool people on it, the beaches were beautiful, and we learned a lot about the native species. Did you know there’s this thing called a strawberry poison-dart frog? It’s this little red frog with spots that look like seeds, but it’s toxin is strong enough to paralyze a grown man! Cute, but very deadly.” He smirks over at Tsukishima. “They kinda remind me of you, actually.”

No. No, no, no there is no way Tsukishima actually finds that kind of sweet, in a tragic, dorky way.

But alas, his cheeks definitely feel a little warmer than they did before, and apparently three years is not long enough to become fully immune to Kuroo Tetsurou’s brand of charm that seems to be specifically catered to poor losers like him.

“Was that supposed to be romantic or something?”

“I don’t know,” Kuroo grins like satisfied big cat. “Is it working?”

“No,” Tsukishima says, like a liar.

“Guess I’ll have to try harder then.” Kuroo winks.

“Your talking privileges are revoked again,” Tsukishima grumbles.

I am so screwed, he thinks.

Tsukishima was expecting Shinzen High to be abandoned. Schools were out for winter break, and there was no reason for anyone to be hanging around the day before Christmas.

The place is packed.

There are strings of lights and garland strung up along the roofs of the buildings and giant inflatable snowmen at the entrance. The ground are overrun with children, and families, and what look to be people in elf costumes working whatever event was taking place.

“This can’t be right,” Tsukishima says as he and Kuroo exit the car and walk up to the school. A pair of little boys giggling wildly go racing between their legs, and Kuroo grabs Tsukishima by the arm to steady him, warm and firm. “How are we supposed to find them in this crowd?”

“Uh,” Kuroo says with an odd smile on his face. “Maybe our friends aren’t the ones we’re supposed to find?” Tsukishima follows his gaze and has to blink a few times to make sure he’s not seeing things.

“Is that… Ushijima Wakatoshi?” It’s been a few years since Tsukishima has seen him in person, but he doesn’t look all that different than he did the last time Tsukishima caught an Adlers game.

“Yup,” Kuroo confirms.

“In a Santa costume?”

“Looks that way.”

“And… Tendou?” Tsukishima places him easily as well, with his unmistakable bright red hair and towering lanky build.

“Mhm.”

“Dressed as Rudolph?”

Instead of answering his question, Kuroo raises his hand in a wave and shouts a very loud greeting. Ushijima looks up at the call and gives them a succinct nod of acknowledgement, a very serious gesture from a man in a fluffy white beard. Tendou’s face splits into a maniacal grin, made even crazier looking by the red ball stuck on his nose. He waves them over excitedly, and Kuroo must sense Tsukishima planning his escape, because he grabs him by the sleeve and drags him over to the pair, standing at what looks to be the welcome table.

“Hey, guys,” Kuroo greets again when they’re closer. “What is all this? I dig the get-ups.”

“It is a charity gift drive and free volleyball clinic,” Ushijima informs them. “And thank you.”

“They asked Wakatoshi-kun to put on the clinic this year because they thought having a professional player would draw in a bigger crowd,” Tendou adds, throwing an arm around Ushijima’s shoulders. “And they were right! The school told us it’s the biggest turn out they’ve ever had.”

Ushijima hums. “I am pleased,” he says. He doesn’t really look it, but Tsukishima takes his word for it.

“Ah, sorry guys.” Kuroo shows his empty hands sheepishly. “We didn’t bring any gifts. We had no idea we were even coming here.”

“It was obviously our mistake.” Tsukishima sighs. How had he gotten a trivia question about his own relationship wrong? “Good luck with all of this, but we really have to go now.”

“Ah, ah, ah!” Tendou sings, grabbing Tsukishima’s wrist and turning him in a clumsy spin that almost knocks him off his feet, stopping him from leaving. “You two are exactly where you’re supposed to be!” There’s a knowing glint in his eyes that stops Tsukishima from writing his statement off as just another weird Tendou-ism.

“What does that mean?”

“It means,” Tendou squishes Tsukishima’s cheeks between his palms. “This is the first stop on your scavenger hunt of loooooove.”

Tsukishima bats his hands away, glaring. “Our friends put you up to this?” Tendou nods excitedly while Ushijima agrees, much more resignedly. “Wait, what do you mean by ‘first stop’?”

“You didn’t think it would end here, did you?” Tendou looks downright gleeful now.

Kuroo groans. “So you guys don’t have our stuff?” Ushijima shakes his head.

“Regrettably, no. But we do have a message that we were told to pass onto you.”

“Can we have it?”

“Regrettably, no.”

“Why not?” Tsukishima explodes, throwing his hands up in frustration. A few moms in the area give him concerned looks, but Kuroo flashes them all a charming smile and tucks Tsukishima under his arm as if to show them, I have him under control.

Tsukishima shrugs him off and steps on his toes. Kuroo winces and mutters, “Strawberry poison-dart frog,” under his breath. Tsukishima has to bite down a grin.

“We were very explicitly directed not to give you the clue to the next location before the conclusion of the event,” Ushijima explains.

“Should we go out and buy a gift or something?”

“I’m afraid you misunderstand.”

“You two are signed up to help teach the volleyball clinic!” Tendou finishes grandly, arms spread wide like he’s presenting a prize they won on the world’s worst gameshow.

Tsukishima seethes, hands balling into fists. He wonders how scarred for life these children would be if he broke Rudolph’s shiny red nose. As if he can read Tsukishima’s mind, Kuroo takes one of Tsukishima’s hands in his, forcing him to unclench his fingers so he can intertwine them together. Tsukishima is so surprised by it, he goes still, all of the tension draining from his body. Kuroo squeezes his hand, as if in reward, and Tsukishima definitely doesn’t feel a pleased warmth bloom in his chest.

The only reason he doesn’t immediately snatch his hand away is because Kuroo’s hands are very big and very warm and he has poor circulation and cold fingers. That is all.

“So, we teach a few kids some volleyball for the next hour, and you guys tell us where we can find our stuff?” Kuroo clarifies, still keeping Tsukishima’s hand in his.

“Nope,” Tendou informs him cheerfully. “But we’ll give you the clue that you have to solve yourselves to find the next stop on the way to get your stuff!”

“Great.” Kuroo sighs, running his free hand through his hair. “Where do you want us?”

Ushijima consults the clipboard in his hand.

“You two will be teaching blocking in the third gymnasium.”

His life is some kind of cosmic joke. That is the only logical conclusion Kuroo can come to, standing with his ex-boyfriend in the doorway of the place where they first fell in love.

“Well, this is weird,” he can’t help but muse aloud. Tsukishima lets out an amused puff of breath.

“I’m not used to seeing such short people in this gym.”

“Except for Yaku,” Kuroo points out.

“Except for Yaku,” Tsukishima amends. They share a look out of the corners of their eyes and Kuroo swears his heart stops when Tsukishima smiles at him. It must be this place. It’s making him a stupid teenager with a crush again.

Experts would all probably agree that your ex is the worst possible person to have a crush on, but once they enter the gym and the kids start swarming, Kuroo finds that his only gets worse.

He was always good with kids, probably because he was still a kid himself at heart. But even though he and Tsukishima dated for years, he can’t recall a single time he ever saw his boyfriend interact with a child. Like, on purpose.

Which is a good thing, because he’s not sure his heart would have been able to take it.

They split the kids into two even groups and each took a side of the net, practicing blocking drills amongst themselves, but Kuroo couldn’t help the way his attention was constantly on the wrong side of the net. (It earned him a few volleyballs to the head, but it was totally worth it.)

Tsukishima was just so…soft right now. All kind smiles as he carefully adjusted the kids’ positions and wiped tears from their chubby cheeks when they fell and skinned their knees on the gymnasium floor. Tsukishima was gentle and patient with the children, no matter how rowdy and loud they got, and Kuroo honestly was not sure he recognized this version of his ex-boyfriend, but hell was it a problem how much he liked it.

It also didn’t help that the only gym clothes Ushijima could offer them were some practice shorts left in the lockers for the high school students. Tsukishima was far above the height of the average Japanese high school student, and as a result, his shorts rode shockingly high on his pale thighs. One little girl happily informed Kuroo that he was “drooling” while Tsukishima led his kids through some very thorough stretches.

“Want to play a practice match?” Tsukishima called over to him when there were twenty minutes left in the hour. Kuroo met his eyes through the criss-crossing strings of the net, and the sight of Tsukishima’s competitive smirk was so familiar that for a moment he forgot that any time had passed at all since they were first here.

“You’re on, Glasses.”

The game was about as chaotic as one would expect from a group of seven and eight year olds trying to play an organized sport. The kids quickly appeared to forget just about every instruction they had been given, and were just smacking the volleyball around with reckless abandon. Kuroo would have been more annoyed at the fact that he just wasted the past forty minutes of his life, if it wasn’t for the way Tsukishima was laughing.

The two of them were on the court with their respective teams, running around and trying to keep the ball in the air as much as possible for the kids. Kuroo was mostly just taking kicks to the shins if he was being honest, but Tsukishima looked like he was having the time of his life, lifting his kids into the air and directing them to spike the ball directly at Kuroo’s head. His cheeks were flushed from the exertion and the laughter, eyes crinkled up adorably at the corners, and lips stretched wide.

Fuck. Kuroo totally has a crush on his ex. Again.

He was actually kind of disappointed when the first of the parents started showing up and taking their little players away, signaling that the event was coming to a close.

“Good game, coach,” Kuroo says with a grin once all of the kids are gone and it’s just him and Tsukishima left, sitting against the wall with their sweaty knees knocking and passing a water bottle between them. Tsukishima snorts and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, which should be gross, but Kuroo finds it tragically cute.

“I haven’t done this much physical activity since -” Tsukishima’s ears turn pink. “Uh.”

Kuroo doesn’t understand right away, but when he does, his brain can’t fight off images of Tsukishima, equally flushed and sweaty and out of breath, but under very different circumstances. Like, Kuroo’s tongue in his ass circumstances.

“Yeah, you were pretty good at…‘uh.’” Kuroo can’t help but tease. Tsukishima rolls his eyes and punches him in the bicep, but it’s totally worth it.

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious, Tsukki, I think you could’ve gone pro if you really dedicated yourself to it.”

“Shut up!” Tsukishima says again, but he’s laughing a little this time. He pulls his knees to his chest and Kuroo forces his eyes away from the way it makes his shorts ride even higher up his thighs. “I can’t believe there’s still more to this stupid scavenger hunt after this,” he groans. “I think my legs are jelly. I don’t know if I can get off this floor.”

“We could always just spend Christmas here,” Kuroo offers.

“On the floor of some smelly high school gym?” Tsukishima grins and Kuroo’s chest aches, looking around the familiar third gymnasium with a rush of nostalgia. Tsukishima follows his gaze and his grin softens. “I mean, I guess if I had to choose a smelly high school gym, I would choose this one.”

“This is my favorite smelly high school gym,” Kuroo admits.

“Yeah.” Tsukishima’s eyes flutter closed, a hint of a smile still playing at his lips. “Mine, too.”

It’s not a confession or anything, but it kind of feels like one.

Kuroo knows he shouldn’t, but he stares. Eyes tracing the familiar profile, from the pout of Tsukishima’s lips to the gentle little slope of his nose, and the way his blonde eyelashes cling to the tops of his cheekbones with sweat. Turns out, getting broken up with by someone doesn’t make them any less pretty. He wonders how mad Tsukishima would be if Kuroo just reached out and -

The doors to the gym go flying open. “Break it up lovebirds, this is a family event!”

Kuroo snatches his hand away guiltily a millisecond before Tsukishima cracks one eye open to glare at Tendou with.

“Just give us the damn clue,” Tsukishima says petulantly with his hand outstretched expectantly.

“Sure,” Tendou crooks a finger. “You just gotta come and get it!”

There’s something definitely suspicious about the way the Tendou waits for them, nearly vibrating with excitement, just outside of the gymnasium doors, but Kuroo is too tired to try and figure out what it is. He stands first, stretching his arms over his head and feeling the joints in his shoulders pop, then offers his hand to help pull Tsukishima to his feet. Tsukishima, whose cheeks are now curiously pinker.

They’re about to take the last step out of the gym when Tendou suddenly shouts, “STOP!” Instinctively, they both stop dead in their tracks. Tendou claps his hands together happily and points to the spot just above their heads.

Kuroo does’t have to look up to know what he’s going to find there. It was a classic mistletoe ambush, and they had fallen for it like total chumps. Still, he looks up anyways, at the little green and red sprig hanging damningly over the doorway. It definitely hadn’t been there before, which means that Tendou must have hung it after all the kids and their parents had left.

Damn sneaky bastard.

“It’s one hundred years of bad luck if you don’t kiss under the mistletoe,” Tendou says sagely.

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes it is, Wakatoshi! It’s a Christmas curse, everybody knows that!”

“Hm. Alright, then.”

“He’s making that up,” Tsukishima huffs. Ushijima looks distinctly betrayed, but Tendou’s smile just grows wider. “I’m not kissing anyone just because you and your weird pervert plant say I have to,” Tsukishima declares firmly.

Kuroo tries not to take Tsukishima’s vehemence about not kissing him too personally, but ouch.

“Okay,” Tendou shrugs. “So you don’t need this anymore, I guess?” He pulls a folded up piece of paper from his pocket with a flourish.

Tsukishima’s eyes narrow. “Give that to me.”

“Kiss!”

“No!”

“Fair enough.” Tendou raises the paper to his open mouth. Kuroo has to give it to him, the man knows how to leverage his assets.

“Don’t - Don’t eat it!” Tsukishima’s eyes widen in horror. Tendou pauses with the note dangling over his open mouth. He doesn’t say anything else, but he’s made his demands pretty clear at this point.

Kuroo doesn’t know whose side he’s on right now. On one hand, he wants to give Tendou a high-five for orchestrating this whole thing so beautifully (and possibly getting him a kiss from Tsukishima, who is his ex, but is still very pretty and probably still a very good kisser). On the other hand, he is very in favor of Tsukishima’s decision to not kiss him, because Tsukishima is his ex, and he’s not sure he’s going to be able to stop after just one kiss.

It’s really a moral dilemma.

The stalemate continues for a few more seconds before Tsukishima shouts, “Fine!” and grabs Kuroo by the lapels of his jackets, hauling him in.

The first press of Tsukishima’s lips against his after so long have his brain fizzling out in shock and pleasure. He can tell that Tsukishima tries to pull away immediately after, but all of Kuroo’s brain functions go completely offline and his instincts take over, arms going around Tsukishima’s waist to hold him closer, mouth chasing after his like a man starved.

Tsukishima makes a tiny, surprised noise into his mouth and it only spurs Kuroo on more. He knows he put on some muscle in Costa Rica, with all the field work he was doing, lugging around equipment every day, but it’s one thing to know it, and another thing to know it in the way that Tsukishima’s body feels pressed against his. Tsukishima might still be a centimeter or two taller than him, but when Kuroo fits his arms around him, he feels impossibly smaller.

Kuroo is addicted to it. He thinks he would have stayed right here, kissing Tsukishima until New Years, if it hadn’t been for the loud applause and cheering that tore him back into reality. Tendou was whooping and wolf-whistling and probably taking pictures with his phone, but when Kuroo pulled back, startled, the only things he could pay attention to were Tsukishima’s kiss-swollen lips and slightly glazed over eyes.

“What…” he whispers, blinking rapidly a few times until the haze of fog clears. Kuroo slowly lets him go and takes a step back, even though it pains him to do so.

“Sorry, uh. Muscle memory.” He cringes at his own excuse, but Tsukishima just nods quickly, as if that makes all the sense in the world. He’s obviously just playing along for Kuroo’s sake, so they can forget this happened and get through the rest of the day with minimal awkwardness. Shit, he probably totally knows Kuroo is still into him now.

“I should have asked you first. It was my fault.” Tsukishima says calmly, before turning on Tendou with a savage growl. “Stop taking pictures and give me the stupid note so I don’t have to look at your stupid face anymore!”

“Alright, alright,” Tendou holds up his hands placatingly. “You certainly earned it. Here you go, you crazy kids.”

Tsukishima snatches the note out of his hand before Tendou can change his mind and Tendou pinches his cheeks. “See you for our video call next week!” He coos, releasing Tsukishima and quickly dancing away before the blonde can retaliate. Ushijima raises a single hand in farewell before starting after him. Kuroo and Tsukishima watch until they make it to their car and Tendou darts around to the driver side to give Ushijima a peck on the lips before climbing in his own side.

“Gross,” Tsukishima mutters, but there’s an almost-smile tugging at his lips.

“What did he mean by your video call next week?”

“Hm?” Tsukishima tugs his jacket tighter around him as they make their way to their own car. “Oh, Tendou makes chocolates in Paris. Sometimes he sends me samples and I make suggestions.”

Kuroo laughs incredulously. “I always knew your sweet tooth was gonna do big things for you one day.”

“You’re just jealous I get free candy.” Tsukishima elbows him, but there’s not a lot of force behind it.

Kuroo grins easily in return with a noncommittal hum, but there’s a bitter tinge of truth to Tsukishima’s words. He is jealous, but not because of the chocolate. Because Tsukishima clearly had no problem making weekly video call appointments with Tendou, who lives all the way in Paris, but never once called Kuroo in the three years that he was in Costa Rica.

Maybe he should have sent chocolates?

Kuroo offers to drive next. He says it’s only so that Tsukishima can read the note while he’s driving and figure out where they’re supposed to be going next, since Tsukishima is the brains of the operation and all. Tsukishima fully realizes that it’s a cheap ploy to compliment him into doing what Kuroo wants (a tactic he has fallen victim to many times before), but he’s still pretty tired from wrangling demon volleyball children all morning, so he agrees.

“So, what’s our next stop?” Kuroo asks, pulling onto the highway. “Read it out loud so I can help, too.”

Tsukishima unfolds the note and turns down the radio so he can read the clue to Kuroo.

To make Tsukki sing along, make his drink a double
Head next to your haven where you once had car trouble

Kuroo starts laughing before Tsukishima even finishes reading the note. He frowns, folding the note back up and looking at Kuroo curiously.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh - Oh, Tsukki you don’t even remember!” This makes Kuroo start laughing even harder.

“I will if you tell me what the hell you’re talking about,” Tsukishima snaps.

It takes a few more seconds for Kuroo to fully calm down, during which Tsukishima’s annoyance only grows. Ever since that stupid kiss, his skin feels itchy and too tight, and when Kuroo smiles like that… It only gets worse.

“Do you remember when I took you on that weekend spa retreat a few years ago?”

Tsukishima’s frown deepens. “I remember when you tried to take me on a weekend spa retreat, but Bokuto’s piece of junk car broke down…before we even got out of the city…” He trails off in horror.

“We ended up at some hole-in-the-wall karaoke bar, and you were so mad, Tsukki, you were driving me absolutely crazy! I had already called for a tow truck, so there was nothing else to do but wait, but you just kept whining and complaining. After about the first twenty minutes, your cuteness kind of wore off.”

The back of Tsukishima’s neck prickles hotly, embarrassment rolling through him in waves. No wonder Kuroo hadn’t put up a fight when he ended things. He probably thought Tsukishima was a total nightmare, and was just waiting for him to set him free.

“So,” Kuroo continues, breaking Tsukishima out of his inner thoughts. “I bought you a few drinks until you finally calmed down.”

“You got me drunk?” Tsukishima accuses.

“Oh, absolutely,” Kuroo agrees shamelessly. “You needed to loosen the hell up. Turned out to be one of the best decisions ever, because after a few drinks I went to the bathroom, and when I came back you were on the stage! Singing!” Kuroo laughs. “It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“No,” Tsukishima groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Yes! And when you saw me in the crowd, you refused to keep singing unless I got up there with you.” Kuroo’s smile is nostalgic and indulgent, and Tsukishima can so easily imagine him looking just like that in his memory, too. “Oh, we brought the house down. I don’t think those people have ever seen Sonny and Cher done like that.”

“Please tell me I was at least Sonny.” Kuroo gives him a pitying look and Tsukishima wants to disappear into the car’s upholstery. He’s almost glad he has no other memories of that night, because if he did he’s pretty sure he would never be able to step foot in that bar again.

But something else Kuroo said registers in his mind, cutting through all the embarrassment…

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Kuroo shrugs. “I don’t have the range to be Cher anyways.”

“No,” Tsukishima huffs a laugh. “I mean… I’m sorry for the way I acted that day. You were just trying to do something nice for me, and you - you didn’t deserve that.”

Kuroo’s eyebrows nearly jump off his face in surprise. “Oh. Oh, uh. That’s okay?”

Tsukishima nods, satisfied, and settles back in his seat. He pretends he doesn’t catch Kuroo glancing over at him about seven times per second with a dumbstruck little grin on his face.

The karaoke bar is even more crowded than Shinzen High, and Tsukishima bitterly wonders why their friends couldn’t have send them on a scavenger hunt to some quiet, deserted bookstore or something. Before they even walk in the door, they can already hear some guy on the mic absolutely butchering Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want for Christmas’.

There’s a giant sign announcing their ‘Holiday Themed’ karaoke series, being hosted this evening by some ‘Special Celebrity Guest’. They get jostled past the sign too quickly for Tsukishima to read the rest of it.

“Why do you think they sent us here?” Tsukishima has to grab Kuroo by the collar and tug him close to be heard over the singing - if it can even be called that. Kuroo shrugs and nods towards the bar.

“Maybe they want us to get drunk?”

“It’s not even five o’clock yet.”

Kuroo gestures to the rest of the room. “Doesn’t seem to be bothering anyone else. Besides, it’s a holiday! That means you can drink all day and nobody can judge you for it. I’m pretty sure it’s an international law.”

Biting his lip, Tsukishima glances around the bar and realizes that yes, all of these grown ass adults are drunk in the middle of the day, and not a single one of them seems to give a shit. Kuroo’s eyes are shining excitedly, head bobbing along to the music, and. Well. Tsukishima already ruined one trip here for him.

“One drink.”

By the time they get through the crowd and to the bar, the man on stage is thankfully finishing up his song. The bartender hands Tsukishima and Kuroo their drinks - a White Russian for Tsukishima and a Manhattan for Kuroo.

“Do you know anything about a scavenger hunt?” Tsukishima asks before the bartender can walk away. The guy just gives him a weird look and shakes his head. Tsukishima settles into a seat with a sigh. “No, of course you don’t.”

“Don’t get discouraged.” Kuroo nudges his shoulder. “There’s gotta be a clue around here somewhere, we just have to find out who -”

“Wow, what a riveting performance, Rob! I think the rest of the crowd will join me in thanking you for finally stopping!” The audience laughs as a new voice rings out over the microphone and someone different takes the stage.

Someone with a horribly familiar voice.

Tsukishima thunks his head onto the sticky bar counter. “Please, no,” he groans. “What did I do in my lifetime to deserve this?” But there’s no denying who they’re here for as Kuroo chuckles and pats him on the back and the MC keeps entertaining the crowd in that stupid, obnoxiously charming way of his.

The ‘Special Celebrity Guest’ just had to be Miya Atsumu, didn’t it?

As if he could hear Tsukishima thinking about him across the room, Atsumu’s eyes zero in on him and Kuroo sitting at the bar. Tsukishima tries to duck behind a large man wearing a string of Christmas lights around his neck, but he knows it’s too late.

“Aha, there you two are!” Atsumu’s voice rings out like an accusation and Tsukishima can feel people’s eyes on them now. “Jeez, took you long enough. Alright, ladies and gentlemen, get ready for a very special performance from two of my closest friends-of-a-friend, Kuroo Tetsurou and Tsukishima Kei!”

The crowd cheers and Tsukishima buries his face in his hands. He imagines that if he can’t see anyone else, they can’t see him either. Maybe he could claim that he accidentally sat in wet cement and was now permanently stuck to this chair.

Kuroo’s hand tightens around the back of his neck comfortingly and he leans in close so that Tsukishima can feel his lips ghosting across the shell of his hear. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this, yeah?”

Almost against his will, Tsukishima feels himself calming down, the erratic racing of his heart slowing to a steady jog. If there’s one thing Kuroo is, it’s dependable. Tsukishima always knew when he said he was going to take care of something, everything was going to be okay. He peeks out from behind his hands and Kuroo gives him a winning smile that makes all of his insides turn into molten lava.

“Trust me?” Kuroo offers his hand. Tsukishima stares it, even as he already knows the answer. He throws back his White Russian and takes Kuroo’s hand firmly.

“I’m Sonny this time.”

Kuroo laughs, and it’s a wondrous thing, tipping his head back so that the cheap bar lights make his lashes cast spidery shadows down his face. He throws back his drink as well, and the crowd parts for them as they make their way to the stage.

“Get your asses up here!” Atsumu grins, waving them up with big arm gestures. He claps Kuroo on the shoulder and winks exaggeratedly at Tsukishima when they join him. Tsukishima squints out into the crowd, the hot stage lights already making him break out into a sweat. The only saving grace is that the lights are so blinding, he can barely see any of the drunk people sitting in the audience. All except for the front row, where he swears he catches a glimpse of another familiar face.

“So Bokuto roped you into all this, huh?” Kuroo is asking Atsumu.

“Oh, I was happy to help out.” Atsumu grins mischievously. “Any opportunity to embarrass Mister Stoic here.”

Tsukishima starts to feel too hot, and his clothes too tight. God, he hates crowds. And attention. And being looked at. Oh, and singing in public.

Kuroo throws an arm around him, bodily putting himself between Tsukishima and Atsumu with his own polite smile. “Actually, I’ll be doing the singing for the two of us. And then you’ll give us the next clue, right?”

Atsumu pouts in mock sympathy. “Aw man, you know, I really wish I could. But I received very specific instructions to not give you the clue unless both of you sing.”

Kuroo frowns. “Well nobody is here to check, so why don’t you just make an exception for us, huh?”

“Why doesn’t Tsukki just sing?” Atsumu counters innocently. Kuroo steps forward, jabbing a threatening finger in Atsumu’s face, but Tsukishima quickly tugs him back.

“It’s fine!” He blurts out. Kuroo looks back at him in surprise.

“It is?”

“Yeah.” Tsukishima swallows hard, feeling a lump forming in the back of his throat. “Let’s just sing ‘Happy Birthday’ or something and be done with it.”

“Actually,” Atsumu interjects. “A song has already been chosen for you.”

Both of them turn twin glares on him. The blonde throws his hands up in mock innocence and very wisely makes his way off the stage, joining the other familiar person Tsukishima had seen sitting in the front row, who he can now confidently identify as Sakusa Kiyoomi. Atsumu leans over and whispers something in Sakusa’s ear with a bright grin, and the other man responds by shoving him away with a hand in the middle of his face.

“Are you sure about this, Tsukki?” Kuroo asks, bringing his attention back to the stage. There are two microphones on stands set up in front of them, and Kuroo has already pulled his free, looking at Tsukishima was an amount of concern that makes his chest loosen just the slightest bit.

“No,” Tsukishima says honestly. Kuroo cracks a small grin and grabs Tsukishima by the wrist, tugging him until they’re facing each other fully.

“Just focus on me, okay? Forget that everyone else is here, and I’ll get you through it.”

Tsukishima stares into Kuroo’s golden eyes, piercing under the stage lights, and the soft curve to his lips, and thinks that focusing on him might just make this a hundred times harder. He nods, and Kuroo’s hand slips down to intertwine their fingers just as the music starts. Tsukishima fumbles to pull his own mic free of the stand with his sweaty hands.

Kuroo takes the first few lines, and Tsukishima groans when he recognizes the song. Which one of his idiot friends chose ‘Santa Baby’? He just wants to have a few words with that person.

Tsukishima’s always liked Kuroo’s singing voice. It’s not perfect and it’s certainly not polished, but it’s low and raspy and Tsukishima finds it pleasant to listen to. He doesn’t look nervous at all, either. Grinning through the lyrics, swinging their arms together gently in a silly little dance, and swaying his hips from side to side. He’s a natural at it, like he always was at everything he did, where Tsukishima was awkward and uncertain.

It was always easier to fit into his skin with Kuroo at his side, though. One more time couldn’t hurt, could it?

When Tsukishima’s turn comes, Kuroo’s squeezes his hand. He takes a deep breath, and quietly sings his verse. Kuroo was right, it is easier when he doesn’t face the audience and drowns out the rest of the world by letting Kuroo take up all of his senses. He’s actually kind of enjoying himself, losing his inhibitions and letting himself get pulled into Kuroo’s little dance.

He’s actually surprised when he realizes they’re on the last of the song’s verses, the final notes of the music starting to fade away.

“Santa baby, and hurry down the chimney tonight,” Tsukishima sings.

“Hurry down the chimney tonight,” Kuroo picks up the next line.

“Hurry tonight,” they both finish together, standing so close now that their foreheads are practically pressed together. Distantly, Tsukishima can hear the audience cheering, but it’s all just background noise to Kuroo’s hand sliding into the hairs on the back of his neck, pressing their foreheads flush together, and his bright laughter being breathed against Tsukishima’s lips.

And Kuroo whispering quiet enough for only him to hear, “I’m so proud of you, Kei.”

As soon as the song finishes, Tsukishima mutters something about needing to use the bathroom and ducks away before Kuroo can get a word in.

Not that he has any fucking idea what he would have said anyways. “Hey, Tsukki, great job out there! You have the voice of an angel! Also, did you ever miss me while I was gone because I missed you like a goddamn limb, haha!”

Yeah, maybe not.

Atsumu re-took the stage and Kuroo dropped into his now empty seat beside Sakusa Kiyoomi. He couldn’t stop glancing over his shoulder towards the bathroom, waiting for Tsukishima to return. Funny how after surviving three years without him, three minutes now made him itch to have the blonde at his side again.

“Do you know why I’m with Atsumu?” Sakusa suddenly asks, catching Kuroo completely off-guard. His eyes are still trained on the stage, where Atsumu is now apparently doing an improvised stand-up comedy set. Kuroo might have been able to misinterpret the meaning of Sakusa’s words, if it wasn’t for the near stars in his eyes as he looked at the other man.

“I didn’t know you even were with Atsumu,” Kuroo admits.

“I don’t exactly try to broadcast it.”

“Understandable.”

“It’s because,” Sakusa’s mask shifts and Kuroo imagines he’s smiling under there, “I’d rather be annoyed and with him than with anyone else in the world.”

“That was…weirdly sweet?” Kuroo squints at him. “Hold on, are you trying to say that I annoy Tsukki?”

“Probably,” Sakusa shrugs.

“This was very helpful, thank you.”

Sakusa huffs. “I’m just saying you still have a chance. Even though all logic says otherwise -”

“Hey!”

“- Tsukishima loves you.”

Kuroo’s brain stalls out. “He - What?”

“You didn’t know?” Sakusa frowns, crinkling the little moles on his forehead. “But Bokuto told Atsumu - Oh dear.”

“Bokuto told Atsumu what? What did he tell him?” Kuroo isn’t proud of how desperate his voice gets, but, well, yeah. He’s desperate. Kuroo clasps his hands together and begs. “Please, Sakusa, come on, man. You can’t play with my emotions like that and then just leave me hanging!”

“I really don’t want to get involved in -”

“Oh no you don’t, you are so in this now.”

Sakusa glances around warily and narrows his eyes. “You can’t tell anyone that I told you.”

“Promise.” Kuroo crosses his heart.

Apparently appeased, Sakusa sighs and lifts his mask to take a sip of the dark drink on the table in front of him. “When Bokuto came to drop off the note, he told Atsumu they were putting together the whole scavenger hunt because you were both pining idiots too stubborn for your own good.”

Kuroo’s heart swells like a balloon. “Tsukki…missed me, too? But wait, then why did he never call? Or why wouldn’t he at least -”

“I really don’t think I’m the person you should be asking all these questions to,” Sakusa interrupts him drily. He raises his eyebrows over Kuroo’s shoulder where Tsukishima has finally reemerged. Kuroo waves and Tsukishima flips him off casually, expression going sour when a very drunk woman tries to slap a pair of reindeer antlers on his head. Kuroo laughs, helplessly endeared.

“I love him, too.” The moment the words leave his mouth, he knows without a doubt that he never once stopped.

“I know.” Sakusa rolls his eyes and drops a folded up slip of paper onto the table in front of him. “Now please, will you get out of here and make your move already?”

“You -” Kuroo’s jaw drops. “You were the one with the clue the whole time?”

“Of course I was. Bokuto was perfectly comfortable with trusting it to Atsumu, but Akaashi made him give it to me instead.”

“That - Yeah, that tracks.”

“Just go already,” Sakusa huffs, but his mask is moving like he’s smiling again. Kuroo takes one more look at Tsukishima waiting for him under a string of fairy lights, making his blonde curls glow like there’s a halo around them, and couldn’t stop himself from following Sakusa’s advice if he wanted to.

“Kuroo,” Sakusa stops him suddenly, voice gone serious. “I probably shouldn't be telling you this either, but the next location is the last one, so -”

“I’m running out of time.”

Tsukishima tries to make it a point not to have full on mental break downs in public restrooms, but he thinks accidentally bearing his entire heart to his ex-boyfriend in front of a crowd full of drunk elves is a fair exception.

He did his best to keep any tears from falling, but a few still got loose. He’s not sure why he was even crying. He’s not sad, at least he doesn’t think he is. He and Kuroo broke up years ago, and he’s already cried all his tears over it. Came to terms with it and moved on with his life.

He did…right?

Breaking up was the right decision for the both of them. When Kuroo was offered the research position in Costa Rica, they had no idea how long he would be gone. It could have been six months, and it could have been ten years. And it was his dream. Tsukishima would never ask him to stay, which meant that Tsukishima had to let him go.

The distance would only hurt more, and Tsukishima was already hurting enough before Kuroo even left. It was better to cut things off while they could still do it face to face, instead of risking falling apart from across the world. They deserved better than that. It was the logical and responsible thing to do.

After a few months, things even started getting better. Tsukishima didn’t cry first thing when he woke up every morning, and was able to stomach regular meals again. He went out with his friends and got a promotion at the museum. Life went on, without Kuroo.

He still loved him. Tsukishima never tried to fool himself into thinking otherwise, he knew that deep down he would always love Kuroo like he was a goddamn extension of his own soul, but that’s why he had to let him go. So that he could tie that love up in a neat little box and shove it deep down inside of him. To get over it.

But when he first saw Kuroo standing in front of Akaashi and Bokuto’s apartment today, it didn’t feel like he was over it.

And when Kuroo kissed him, it definitely didn’t feel like he was over it.

And when Kuroo called him ‘Kei’, it felt like… Fuck. Like magic, or some cheesy crap like that.

It was a terrifying and thrilling thought, that maybe his and Kuroo’s chapter wasn’t finished being written yet - that maybe they could still have an entire novel left with each other.

But would Kuroo even want that? It has been three years, after all, and just because Tsukishima could never let it go doesn’t mean that Kuroo isn’t capable of fully moving on. He seemed to have a great time in Costa Rica. He probably didn’t miss Tsukishima at all.

Just because he’s back in Tokyo now doesn’t automatically mean he wants to get back together. A lot can change in three years - they’ve changed over the last three years. But couldn’t that also be a good thing?

Shit. Tsukishima has no idea what to do, but he does know that he needs to get out of this disgusting bathroom ASAP.

Kuroo is talking with Sakusa while he waits for him, and when he sees Tsukishima his entire face lights up in a way that is not at all good for Tsukishima’s heart. He exchanges a few more quick words with Sakusa before he’s making his way through the crowd to Tsukishima’s side.

“Ready to get out of here?” He grins, gallantly offering his hand like a Prince Charming who’s clearly up to no good. Tsukishima rolls his eyes to make up for the way his stomach erupts into butterflies, delicately placing his hand in Kuroo’s.

“God, please.”

Something is different with Kuroo after that. Tsukishima doesn’t know if it’s because of their little Moment on stage, or if Sakusa said something to him, but he hasn’t stopped smiling once since they left the bar.

“What?” Tsukishima asks when the curiosity is killing him.

“What?” Kuroo parrots, one hand on the back of Tsukishima’s seat as he turns to check behind the car so he can pull out of their parking spot. It’s so attractive that for a moment, Tsukishima forgets what they were even talking about.

“You’re in a suspiciously good mood and it’s freaking me out.”

Kuroo just laughs, clearly not at all offended. “I’m having fun, Tsukki. Aren’t you?”

Tsukishima bites the inside of his cheek and shrugs. “I’ve had worse days.” I haven’t had a better one since you left.

Kuroo hums, satisfied with his answer. “Alright, last clue. Let’s hear it.”

Tsukishima starts to unfold the note, and stops. “Wait, did you say last one? How do you know?”

With a wince, Kuroo admits, “Sakusa let it slip. The next stop should be where we find our luggage,” he checks the time on the dashboard, “just in time to make the last trains of the night!”

“Oh. Great.” Tsukishima picks at the corner of the paper. He should be happy, he knows. Once they finish the scavenger hunt and get their luggage back, he can finally go home to see his family for Christmas. It’s the entire reason he went through with this whole thing. But.. He’s undeniably disappointed at the idea of this day being over.

I’m having fun, too, he realizes. Because I’m with you.

“Hey,” Kuroo says gently, reaching over to give Tsukishima thigh a light squeeze. “Everything okay?”

Tsukishima’s heart stutters, entire body flushing hot, nearly unbearably so where Kuroo had touched his leg. He manages a jerky nod, not trusting his voice to work quite yet. He clears his throat a few times just to be sure before finally reading the last clue.

The game is nearly over, have you kissed and made up?
Go now to the date spot where one of you blew up

“They rhymed ‘up’ with ‘up’,” Tsukishima complains. He frowns down at the paper, and when he looks up, he finds Kuroo watching him with an indescribable expression. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Huh?” Kuroo blinks as if startled. “Like what? I’m not - So what do you think this clue means?”

Tsukishima shrugs, ignoring the sudden change of topic. “I don’t know, I can’t remember us getting into any big fights on one of our dates. Can you?”

“Nothing comes to mind, I think all of our dates went pretty damn good. Well, except for - Oh no,” Kuroo groans.

“Except for what?”

“The clue isn’t referring to a fight,” Kuroo says miserably.

“What else could ‘blew up’ - Oh.” Tsukishima has to fight back laughter when he realizes the same thing Kuroo had.

“Don’t laugh,” Kuroo warns him.

“I’m not!” Tsukishima lies. It’s kind of hard not to, though. It is only fair, since their last stop was a place where Tsukishima embarrassed himself, that the next one would be the very fancy five-star restaurant where Kuroo came down with the flu and spent two hours throwing up all over the white porcelain bathroom.

“I don’t even know if they’ll let me back in.” Kuroo shudders. “I’m probably blacklisted from that place now.”

“You’ll never know if you won the lottery if you don’t even enter,” Tsukishima smirks. “It was something like that, right?”

Kuroo barks out a surprised laugh, and that same look from before is back in his eyes. It makes Tsukishima warm when he looks at him like that, fuzzy and pleased from his head to his toes.

“Yeah, yeah. You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

“I think I’m at least the most clever person in this car.”

Kuroo laughs again and Tsukishima wishes he would never stop. “Well I think that our friends better be paying for our dinner if they’re sending us back to such an expensive place.”

“Ditto,” Tsukishima agrees.

Tsukishima finally gets his wish to get away from all the crowds. The restaurant is a ghost-town - not a single person in sight.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Tsukishima frowns as they make they way across the empty parking lot to the entrance under the big awning covered in twinkling lights. “It’s Christmas Eve, this place should be packed. It’s probably their busiest night of the year.”

“Maybe there was a rat infestation and they had to shut down on short notice,” Kuroo suggests.

“Lovely,” Tsukishima deadpans. He worries for a moment that the doors will all be locked and they won’t even be able to get in, but as they approach the restaurant, a maître d’ in an immaculate tux with a white towel over his forearm opens it for them with a deep bow. Tsukishima and Kuroo exchange looks before walking inside.

The inside of the restaurant is no less deserted than the outside. Every table is empty, and the man in front of them is the only staff member in sight.

“Um, sorry to barge in without a reservation.” Kuroo darts a quick glance around the vacant room. “But we were hoping you could help us with -”

“Kuroo-san and Tsukishima-san?” The maître d’ interrupts.

“Oh, uh, yes, that’s -”

“Follow me,” the man says curtly. “Your table is all ready for you.”

“Our table?” Kuroo’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, but the man is already walking away. With no other choice, they follow him into the restaurant. He takes them past all of the empty tables, and up the grand staircase in the middle of the floor. Tsukishima thinks they’ll stop on the second floor, but the man leads them up another set of stairs and out a door to an outdoor rooftop patio.

Tsukishima isn’t usually one to get too impressed over decadence, but his breath catches in his throat at the view that greets them. There are twinkling fairy lights strung up through the rafters and winding around each column and pillar. Candles are set up around the entire area, bathing it in a warmth and a soft golden glow. Deep red bows are tied to the backs of the two chair set up at the only table on the entire patio, right in the middle and draped in a matching red tablecloth.

He startles when the maître d’ goes to take his jacket from him, sliding it off his shoulders, then going to Kuroo to collect his as well. “Your server will be with you shortly, gentlemen.” He bows deeply, then leaves them alone. Tsukishima is still standing in a daze, looking around in shock. Kuroo just grins and pulls out a chair for him.

“After you.”

Tsukishima’s mind is still reeling when they sit across the table from each other, the candle in the middle casting dancing shadows across their faces. “Who - How did they do this? They rented out the entire place for us? That must have cost a fortune! We don’t know anyone with that kind of -”

“Yes we do!” Kuroo interrupts him with a laugh, realization lighting up his eyes. “They must have gotten Kenma in on all of this!”

Tsukishima’s jaw drops, looking around the rooftop again. There’s a little gazebo set up in the corner, also strung up with glowing fairy lights. “What did you say he does again?”

“I try not to ask too many questions, honestly.”

Tsukishima grins but before he can respond, a woman with sharp eyeliner and a long, tight ponytail clears her throat lightly and walks up to their table. Her button down is crisp and white, her pants a fitted black, with a matching black tie around her neck.

“Good evening gentlemen, my name is Mibuki and I’ll be taking care of all your needs this evening.”

“I don’t suppose that means you’ll be giving us our bags back right away?” Tsukishima asks, even though most of the urgency he had the rest of the day is gone now.

Mibuki smiles apologetically. “Kozume-san instructed us not to return your things until the conclusion of the five courses.”

“And I presume Kozume-san will be footing the bill for all of this?” Kuroo raises a brow with a dangerous smile. Mibuki laughs lightly.

“That is correct, sir.”

“In that case, we’ll start with a bottle of wine.”

“Red,” Tsukishima adds.

“Your finest!” Kuroo grins over at him and Tsukishima blushes and returns it.

“Right away, sirs,” Mibuki says, looking between them with a knowing smile. Once she leaves, they fall into a familiar and comfortable silence, nothing but the tinny sounds of old jazzy love songs coming from the speakers. It’s like something out of a movie, Tsukishima thinks a little hysterically.

Kuroo’s hand lays on the table between them, and Tsukishima has the craziest urge to reach out and take it. He doesn’t, but he does place his own on the table, too, close enough that their pinkies brush. Kuroo looks up at him in surprise, and Tsukishima stares down at the table, feeling his cheeks heat. Neither of them moves away.

“I feel like we’ve been so busy running around all day,” Kuroo breaks the silence quietly, “that I haven’t even gotten the chance to say that it’s - it’s really good to see you again.”

Now it’s Tsukishima’s turn to look up in surprise. “Oh, I - You, too,” he finishes lamely instead of the hundreds of other things he feels about seeing Kuroo again. Kuroo doesn’t seem to mind though, only breaking Tsukishima’s gaze when Milbuki returns to place two wine glasses in front of them, filling each and leaving the bottle in the middle of the table before ducking away again.

Kuroo raises his glass and the fairy lights twinkle in his eyes. “Well, cheers.” Tsukishima touches his glass lightly against Kuroo’s and they each take a sip.

“So,” Kuroo settles back in his seat, placing his glass on the table. “Catch me up. Tell me everything you’ve been up to since I left. I wanna know it all.”

As the candle between them melts down until it’s nearly half of its original size, Tsukishima does. He leaves out the parts about the crying and the heartache, and the one or two failures of first dates he attempted to go on, but he tells him about everything else. Finishing up his degree, getting a permanent job at the city museum, his brother’s wedding, and the pro volleyball league fundraiser he went to last year where Hinata and Kageyama threw up on stage because they had a contest to see who could eat the most mini-quiches five minutes before they were supposed to give speeches.

Kuroo takes it all in like he’s a man lost in the desert and Tsukishima’s words are cool drinks of water. He doesn’t look bored lose interest once the entire time, laughing and nodding and asking questions in all the right places until the conversation between them flows as easily as it did before Kuroo left.

Kuroo tells a few stories of his own, about all of the interesting people on his trip and what the Costa Rica beaches look like and how he tried surfing once and almost broke his collarbone. Tsukishima finds himself just as interested in what Kuroo has to say as he seemed to be in Tsukishima, and he gets it. It really is like he’s been starving for all of this information on Kuroo these past three years, and he’s finally getting a taste of what his life was like while Tsukishima was stuck here wondering about him.

The five courses go by too quickly. By the time they’ve finished their dessert, Tsukishima feels in impeding sense of dread in the pit of his stomach.

“Your bags are waiting for you downstairs by the front door,” Mibuki informs them both before giving them a final bow and leaving them.

Tsukishima tips back his wine glass to catch the last few drops on his tongue, but the bottle is all gone, and there’s no reason for them to hang around anymore. His heart falls to his feet and he’s about to suggest they head out when Kuroo suddenly stands and offers Tsukishima his hand, much like he had back at the bar.

“We still have some time to get to the train station before the last trains come.” Kuroo nods towards the gazebo in the corner. “Dance with me? Just for a few minutes. We can consider it my Christmas present.”

“You didn’t get me anything,” Tsukishima mutters. Kuroo laughs, eyes crinkling up, and tips his head to the side expectantly. Oh. Yes you did.

Tsukishima bites his lip and hesitates for only a second before he takes Kuroo’s hand.

It has to be now, Kuroo tells himself. If you can’t do it now, when will you ever?

The scene is perfect for a romantic confession. The twinkling lights and glowing candles, the old love songs crooning through the air, Tsukishima wrapped in his arms, swaying together slowly under the gazebo.

He opens his mouth to say the words, the simple, inevitable truth that Kuroo loves him and Kuroo will always love him, but they’re so big, they get caught in his throat. Tsukishima’s head, tucked into his neck, presses closer to him, blonde hair tickling the underside of his jaw, and Kuroo’s heart feels too large for his chest. It’s hard to breathe, let alone speak, with how much he loves the man in his arms.

“Tell me more about it,” Tsukishima requests quietly. Kuroo forces his heart not to leap out of his throat, and responds in as steady a voice as he can manage.

“About what?”

“The frog. The stupid strawberry frog,” Tsukishima mumbles and oh, Kuroo loves him so much.

“The strawberry poison-dart frog,” Kuroo corrects him.

“Yeah, that one.”

Kuroo hums and spins them both in a slow turn. “The strawberry poison-dart frog is part of a species of small, brightly colored frogs that secrete toxins that can cause all sorts nasty side-effects - swelling, nausea, paralysis. They won’t kill a human, though their toxin is strong enough to kill some of their natural predators in the wild.”

“They sound cool.” Tsukishima’s voice is slightly muffled by Kuroo’s neck and Kuroo’s chest aches.

“Yeah,” he says quietly. “Yeah, they’re really cool. They’re actually my favorite out of all the hundreds of frog species we found in Costa Rica.”

“Really?” Tsukishima asks curiously. “How come?”

Kuroo’s hands tighten involuntarily around Tsukishima’s waist, throat threatening to close up again. You’re running out of time, he thinks frantically. Just do it. Nothing can be worse than spending the last three years without him. You love him, just do it.

“Because they always made me think of you.”

He can feel Tsukishima’s sharp intake of breath against his skin, his arms involuntarily wrapping them tighter together. Kuroo wishes he could see his face so badly right now, but he’s afraid if they move from this position the entire spell would be broken.

“We did the right thing, didn’t we?” Tsukishima asks in a shaky voice. “Ending things before you left. We were - We had no idea how long you would be gone for, and I was barely twenty-two back then. I was barely twenty-two and - and you weren’t even gone yet, but I missed you so badly I couldn't breathe. There was no way we were going to last three years like that, right?”

“I don’t know,” Kuroo admits, resting his chin on top of Tsukishima’s head. “It felt like it at the time.”

“I missed you,” Tsukishima whispers. “I missed you so -” his voice breaks. “So much.”

“I missed you, too,” Kuroo breathes in a rush. “You have no idea, Kei, leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

Tsukishima makes a sound suspiciously close to a sob, fingers knotting themselves in the back of Kuroo’s hair. “Letting you go was harder.”

“It’s not a competition,” Kuroo chides lightly. Tsukishima laughs, wet and choked.

“You’re just a sore loser.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo agrees. “I love you.”

Tsukishima finally pulls back so Kuroo can see his face, cheeks wet with tears and eyes shiny and wide. A brilliant smile stretches across his lips.

“I love you more.”

“I just said it’s not a comp - mph!”

Tsukishima shuts him up just about the most effective way anyone has ever shut Kuroo up in his life and seals their lips together. There are no accidents or mistaking of intentions or Tendou with a camera phone this time. It’s like their first kiss at that Tokyo training camp all over: a confession.

Tsukishima’s nose is cold and his lips are a little salty from his tears and when he tries to get closer to Kuroo he steps on his toes. It’s the best kiss Kuroo’s ever had in his life

His hand comes up in instinct to cradle Tsukishima’s cheek and tilt their heads just right for their lips to slot perfectly together, so that Kuroo can tease his tongue against the seam of Tsukishima’s lips and feel the full-bodied shiver it earns him. Before the kiss can get any further than that, Tsukishima pulls away, just as dazed as he was the first time, but this time with a smile.

“We’re going to miss our trains,” he says sadly. Kuroo rubs his thumb across Tsukishima’s cheekbone and kisses him once more, on the forehead, before painfully pulling away.

“Let’s hit the road, then. One last stop of the day.”

Kuroo’s family lives in the opposite direction of Sendai, so he and Tsukishima part at the gates and go down to their own separate sides of the platform with a final kiss and a promise to talk soon. Even though he knows it’s not forever, Kuroo still feels a sense of intense longing as he watches Tsukishima walk away, the feeling only growing stronger the further he gets. Eventually, the announcer says the last trains will be arriving soon, and he has to go down to his own platform.

From across the rows of tracks, Kuroo can see Tsukishima standing at his own platform, a head above most of the other patrons, blonde curls like a beacon in the crowd. Kuroo aches, and Tsukishima looks up and meets his eyes across the way just as his train pulls up, breaking their gaze.

Kuroo’s train pulls up at the same time.

He doesn’t get on it.

The last of the trains pull out of the station, leaving Kuroo standing alone on an empty platform.

He looks up, and Tsukishima is still standing on his platform, too.

Neither of them left.

Tsukishima’s shoulders lift in a helpless shrug and Kuroo smiles so wide it hurts his cheeks.

“Merry Christmas,” Tsukishima whispers, voice hoarse with sleep, one leg flung over Kuroo’s waist and an arm thrown across his chest. Kuroo rumbles a laugh in his chest and kisses the top of Tsukishima’s head.

“Merry Christmas, baby. We better get moving if we wanna catch the early trains and make it to our families by lunchtime.”

Tsukishima groans and buries his face in Kuroo’s chest. “D’n wanna move,” he whines.

“I know,” Kuroo sighs, scratching blunt nails through Tsukishima’s soft hair and making the other man hum contently. “But we promised our parents we’d take the first trains of the day.”

“Fine,” Tsukishima grumbles, heaving himself into an upright position with a dramatic and laborious flair. He stretches his arms up over his head, muscles of his long torso flexing and rippling beneath pale skin, causing Kuroo’s mouth to go a little dry. He suddenly stills, gaze somewhere out the window. “Oh, Tetsurou, look. It’s snowing.”

Kuroo follows him into a sitting position, wrapping his arms around Tsukishima’s bare waist, resting his head on his shoulder. “Huh, would you look at that. Sure is gonna be a pain to walk all the way to the train station in that,” he muses with a sly grin.

Tsukishima smirks at him over his shoulder. “Do you think Bokuto and Akaashi will drive us?”

Their laughter is like an old love song, filling Kuroo’s apartment with warmth and cheer and all that other cheesy holiday crap.