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Seven times the sin

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His begins with,




He's too lazy to do anything about it. Thinking he has time. Means. Looks. Brains. Game play. Wits. You name it, he's probably got it.

After all, they've been friends long enough. He knew him in and out. They way he thought. They way he functioned. The way his blood circulated in his veins, if he had to be that precise. They were both newly appointed captains, new to the position and the view of the court.

To say that he was floored by their first encounter, it'd be a bit of an understatement.

They became friends, easily.

Two of a kind, a perfect pair.

But he got too secure.


And then,


that setter arrived.





He had eyes as green as Kuroo thought his would become on occasions – mostly seeing what he opted to ignore and not to see.

His friend's eyes following that setter of his longer than necessary – he thought nothing of it.

That smile falling into something discreet and intimate when no one was supposed to be there – nope, nothing to be worried about.

Him calling at some God forsaken hour to ask about dating advice – okay, so he couldn't ignore it any more.

He'd listen to his friend, to the tone of that booming voice fall just a bit quieter and genuinely happy when he'd share that happiness with him, babbling about everything that came to his mind, with Kuroo playing the part of good best friend, not at all regretting his own existence time and time again, fighting a futile war with himself and this ugly feeling clawing at his soul.


He could do little at the moment, save simmer quietly.





For every lie and half truth he told himself, his team found it a bit odd that he'd spend a really long time hanging around Bokuto and his team, no matter how many times he'd say it was for strategic purposes and he'd really hate to lose that game in particular.

Half of it was true.

The part where he'd hate to lose, that is.

It was silly, he knows, juvenile and idiotic, but he couldn't help but feel a bit happy every time they would score a point and ultimately make Bokuto's team lose.

Bokuto would complain about it, sure, but it wasn't him Kuroo wanted to beat.

After every game, Bokuto would wipe that scowl of his face and drag Kuroo to something to celebrate yet another game.


That ice cream could barely keep that hunger satiated, though.





He could do little save rip his own skin off later that evening, under the coldest shower he could bear.

Sadly for him, the cold drops might as well be ice cubes, it wouldn't help the fire burning beneath his skin. Restless fingers twitching could only find some peace when he'd bury then in his own hair, wishing it was someone else's.

Head spinning, breath heavy, slight shivers passing through him and none of that cold water is responsible for that.

If anything, it helps him calm down a notch.

Until he closes his bedroom door for the night and his mind keeps him awake.


He's not quite happy with the turn of events, but it helps him get some sleep, despite having to take yet another shower.





Nightly fantasies and his trusted box of tissues can only do so much for a healthy young man in denial and Kuroo learns pretty fast that it won't be enough. Especially when certain events come to pass and he finds himself with his team on a training camp.

A joint training camp.

With Fukurodani.

He has a hunch there is a number of people involved in this sudden turn of events.

First of all, if there was a training camp scheduled, it wasn't with Fukurodani, because he knows for a fact and because Bokuto told him that they had other plans that particular week.

Second of all, it was more than obvious the little traitors in his own team had something to do with it because who sends their captain a message informing him to pack for a week away from Tokyo?

They were guilty, no doubt about it.

Also, they didn't even try to deny it.


Traitors, all of them.


Alas, he could only make those accusations in his head, so not to give away some things and more importantly, not to give the idiots the satisfaction.

It would backfire spectacularly.

He'd become so devoted to those training hours, word was even Karasuno's setter was curious.

Bokuto would laugh, all fired up to see him eager to do this or do that, have an astounding spur of inspiration that the captain of Fukurodani would be happy to try out.


And with every smile, fire in his eyes and willingness to participate, Kuroo's wanted more.





In the end, he's played, he knows he is.

He's no idiot. He's missed something, he can see it in those green eyes of Bokuto's setter and love of his life. He's too clever for his own good, that green eyed little owl. By all accounts, he should have been a cat. In Kuroo's humble opinion.

Still, that doesn't soothe the momentary flame of wrath consuming him.





Kuroo Tetsurou could deal with a lot of things. His tolerance for bull shit was enormous.

Akaashi's silent teasing, he got that.

His own team's open teases, bring it on.

His setter's rolling eyes at that, yes, why not.

He could deal with a lot of that.

But what surprised him was that a single thing he's witnessed by chance would prick his pride so much.


Nothing much, really, barely of any significance, but there it was.

That snappy little bird of Karasuno he dubbed once upon a time his kouhai which the bird never liked to begin with, approaching the little genius bird.

It looked like nothing of significance, a few words exchanged, very team mate like.

And then that hand.

Resting so intimately on that shoulder.

(Not really, at that time, but Kuroo's perceptive and he would to this day put a hand in a raging fire and stick to his claims that there was something between them.)

(His claim is that Tsukishima wouldn't be caught dead doing such a thing.)

(He was right about it about a year or so later.)

Be it as it may, it certainly made a few strings snap.


If Tsukishima had the guts to do something, no matter how wobbly it was and perhaps bordering on insane, at the time, he'd be damned if he didn't-


-stare wide eyed at Bokuto whom he just kissed in an act of desperation, retaliation, hopelessness and shit he really wanted to.


...well shit.

...apparently, he wasn't all that clever, in the end.


(Bokuto merely laughed.)


Took you long enough.” The owl says, with that wide grin and gleaming eyes.