"wait, your boss didn't even let you tell your side of the story?" iwaizumi spoke, looking back over at me from his position on the couch.
i nodded, stirring the noodles and water in the pot. i don't want to brag, but i am a pretty good chef. it's been a while since i made my famous pasta dish as lev was out of the country, but i knew if anyone could appreciate it, it would be my childhood crush. scooping out a thin spaghettum (one noodle), i threw it against the side of the refrigerator. when it stuck, i hummed in satisfaction and pulled the pot off the stove.
"so what now?" iwaizumi questioned, resting his cheek against the top of the couch cushions.
i leaned forward on the counter, staring a little longer at him than i intended. but he looked so incredibly attractive in his simple outfit, sitting on my simple couch. compared to me in a pair of old sweatpants and lev's oversized shirt, he was dressed to the metaphorical nines in his khaki pants and navy polo. it was like he was meant to be in my apartment, maybe even inside–i mean, instead!–of me.
"suspended from work for two weeks until they conclude the investigation. so a whole lot of...this," i answered, gesturing vaguely between us.
"well, you can just call me whenever you want company. your place or mine, i'm not picky," he grinned at me.
a smile tugged at my lips, and i turned back to the stove before it could completely overtake my features. adding sauce and some basil to the pasta, i carried the two dishes over to the coffee table.
i set one dish in front of iwaizumi, but as i reached across him to place the other one, i tripped over the edge of the rug. the sauce and noodles slipped from the plate, creating a mess across his immaculate khakis. i gasped in horror before profusely apologizing. i reached for some napkins, trying to dab off as much as i could. at least i remembered how to prevent stains from setting even if i couldn't remember my workplace's emergency evacuation.
my hands moved without conscious thought, pressing atop his thighs firmly. until the fifth napkin, i was solely focused on the stain. until the fifth napkin, i didn't realize i was essentially feeling up iwaizumi. i paused in my ministrations, gnawing at my bottom lip. i looked up, and our eyes met.
we were so physically close.
"i think lev has some old pants around somewhere, if you want to see if they fit," i offered.
"okay. i'll...go throw these in the washing machine," he replied reluctantly, finally breaking eye contact to look over my shoulder at the small laundry room.
moving away from his form hurriedly, i rushed to lev's bedroom to grab some old sweats. i yanked open the first drawer, finding only underwear and a well-worn clown costume. 'i'll have to ask lev about that,' i noted before moving to the second drawer where i found what i was looking for.
returning to the living room, i found iwaizumi standing by the coffee table in his boxers and a plain white t-shirt. some of the sauce must have also spilled on his polo, but i certainly wasn't complaining at the image. i took in his sculpted form, almost getting drunk off the sight of his thicc thighs and firm butt.
taking a mental photograph, i announced my presence. "here," i held out the pants. as he reached out for them, his shirt tightened across his torso and muscular arms. i let out a near-inaudible whimpering moan, weak at his handsomeness.
'maybe the pants won't fit. maybe they will but he'll say they didn't. maybe he'll stay like that,' i shot off a quick prayer before a stern knock at the apartment door interrupted.
kuroo pov.
this morning, she was my secretary.
now...now, she was sitting at home, not working. all because my boss couldn't take five minutes to listen to her side of the story. all the electronics of the office–copiers, printers, phones, elevators, coffee machines–posed a hazard at any given time. having so much equipment going at once was bound to cause a fire at some point, especially if there was a missed memo or something about a faulty machine. if it wasn't today, it could've been tomorrow or next week. and if it wasn't her, it could've been me, or hell, even my boss himself.
she didn't even have a chance to grab her things before she left.
i stood in front of her apartment door, having triple-checked the address in her paperwork and with lev. i rocked back and forth on my heels, looking around the complex floor. a few noises came from inside the apartment, but none signaled that she was moving toward the door. hell, i couldn't even be sure that it was from behind this door.
'was she even home? should i knock again?' i wondered as another minute passed. a more pressing question i should have asked myself was: what the hell was i even doing here?
i should have at least texted her to let her know that i was stopping by. i had her number. i had her email address. i could've used either of these to let her know. instead, the moment the clock struck five, i grabbed her things along with mine and rushed over here.
'what if she had company over?'
what if her friends were over, consoling her about what happened today? i let out a noise of worry, quickly running a hand through my hair in a futile effort of fixing it. i had to put my best foot forward. what would her friends think if they saw a slob for her boss? i couldn't let that ruin my reputation.
it was a small world after all.
two minutes later–finally–she huffed as she threw open the door, slamming it against the wall with the sheer amount of force. pulling it back nearly-shut, she leaned against the doorway, using her arm to block a further look into the apartment. she grinned, trying to fix her messy hair as i glanced down at her.
and what a sight. she had no pants on. my eyes widened before i covered them, turning around to look away. i mean, i am a true gentleman.
"(y/n)," a male voice called out. "how do i look?"
she looked back at the voice, giving it a thumbs up.
"you can put your pants back on, you know. these fit fine, so no need to worry about me."
my brow furrowed. 'who was she pantless with? why wasn't it me?'
the door drifted open to reveal iwaizumi hajime, the ace from aoba johsai. why the hell was she with this guy? shouldn't oikawa be here to cockblock this?
"okay!" she grinned, taking the proffered pants and quickly pulling them on.
"um," i hesitated, "you forgot this." i held out her bag.
"oh, thanks!" her hand brushed against mine briefly as she reached for her purse. after another wide grin with her eyes pulling into half-crescents, she shut the door in my face.
i stood there in shock. this...wasn't what i was expecting to happen. i had hoped for an invite in, maybe a talk over some drinks. i would offer her my shoulder if she needed to cry about the events of the day. things would progress naturally and–
the door opened again.
"we were about to watch a movie; do you want to come in?" she offered, stepping to the side in a silent invitation into her apartment.
"sure, but i can't stay long. i've got kenma waiting for me at home."
like a vampire now with a proper invite, i stepped through the doorway. kicking off my shoes, i walked in and settled on the couch. (y/n) brought me a bottle of water, and i thanked her before slouching comfortably into the plush seat. on the opposite end, iwaizumi mirrored my actions.
it seemed that i had some competition tonight.
"is the little mermaid okay?" she asked, looking at both of us.
iwaizumi smiled with a nod, putting his arm on the back of the couch behind her. i copied the move, noting what an odd image we made if anyone were to stumble upon this scene. with me in work clothes, painfully overdressed compared to iwaizumi and (y/n), it was like an odd sandwich in which the crust was only cut off of one slice of bread but remained on the other. (and we all knew which one was better.)
i leaned in closer to (y/n). "it's my favorite movie," i whispered in what i hoped to be a seductive tone. something that would remind her of our first meeting.
she shivered and moved away from me a little. okay, maybe i came on too strong there.
'ten points from nekoma, putting me in the negative.'
* * * * * * * * * * *
somewhere in the middle–between 'kiss the girl' and ursula's reveal as vanessa, as far as i registered–she dozed off.
her head was tilted back against the couch as she slept with her mouth open, softly snoring. she sounded like she would've choked on her spit at any moment. i leaned over, brushing hair from her face. in case she needed CPR, we were now both prepared.
iwaizumi caught onto my actions, slapping away my hand. he shook his head firmly, mouthing 'stop it, get some help.' i pouted in response but moved away anyway.
but the true pain came soon after. it was worse than being stabbed with a number two pencil (approved for advanced placement testing) when she chose his shoulder over mine. i turned away from the sight, crossing my arms over my chest like a child throwing a tantrum. the last thing i saw before i did, however, was a smug grin on iwaizumi's face, thinking he had won.
but he hadn't seen the last of me yet.