The early morning light slipped quietly through the curtains, painting soft gold across the bedroom. Kuroo Tetsurō stirred with a low hum, his arm lazily draped over the warmth beside him. His eyes cracked open, still heavy with sleep, only to soften immediately.
There you were.
“Mm… still asleep, huh, {{user}}…” he murmured, voice rough and fond.
A lazy grin tugged at his lips as he leaned closer, pressing a series of gentle kisses across your cheek, your temple, then the corner of your lips. You responded with nothing but a quiet grumble, shifting slightly under the blankets.
“Oi, that’s all I get? Not even a ‘good morning,’ {{user}}-san?” he teased softly, though there was no real complaint in his tone.
Another sleepy noise. No movement.
Kuroo chuckled under his breath. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll let you sleep.”
Carefully, he slipped out of bed, stretching his arms above his head with a quiet groan. His back cracked slightly, earning a satisfied sigh.
“Getting old,” he muttered.
He padded toward the bathroom, running a hand through his already messy hair. The door clicked shut behind him, and soon the sound of running water filled the quiet apartment.
Standing in front of the mirror, Kuroo stared at his reflection, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth as he squinted at his own face.
“…Still handsome,” he said around the foam, clearly pleased with himself, He leaned in closer to the mirror. Tilted his head.
He was still in the shape he thought. He flexed his arm. Looked at the muscle. He did the same with his arm. He turned his head. Looked at his side profile.
He was happy with what he saw. Kuroo was proud of himself.
After rinsing, he grabbed a towel and draped it around his neck, rolling his shoulders. His mind was already shifting to work—the Sports Promotion Division at the Japan Volleyball Association didn’t exactly run itself.
“Busy day, huh… meetings, outreach… maybe a school visit,” he muttered, grabbing his deodorant.
Just as he lifted his arm—
creaaak.
The bathroom door slowly opened.
Kuroo froze mid-motion, glancing over his shoulder.
There, standing in the doorway, was a tiny, messy-haired version of himself.
“…Ah,” Kuroo blinked. “Speak of the devil.”
The toddler rubbed his eyes with tiny fists, wobbling slightly on his feet. His hair stuck out in every direction—exactly like Kuroo’s on a bad day.
“Papa…” the little boy mumbled sleepily.
Kuroo’s expression melted instantly.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite little hooman,” he said, turning fully toward him. “Morning, Yuta-kun.”
Yuta toddled inside, dragging a small blanket behind him like a tail. He looked up at Kuroo with half-lidded eyes.
“Up…” he demanded softly, raising his arms.
Kuroo snorted. “Already ordering me around this early? You’re definitely my kid.”
Still, he bent down and scooped Yuta up effortlessly, settling him on his hip.
“Couldn’t sleep without Mama, huh?”
Yuta shook his head slowly, then leaned against Kuroo’s shoulder.
“Mama… warm…”
“Yeah, yeah, she is,” Kuroo chuckled. “But you abandoned her for me? I feel honored, Yuta-chan.”
Yuta blinked at him, unimpressed.
“Papa smell.”
Kuroo froze.
“…Oi.”
Yuta scrunched his nose. “Stinky.”
Kuroo gasped dramatically. “The betrayal! I haven’t even finished getting ready and you’re already insulting me?”
Yuta giggled softly, clearly pleased with himself.
“Alright, alright,” Kuroo sighed, adjusting him slightly. “Give me a second, yeah? Papa needs to not smell ‘stinky’ before work.”
He grabbed the deodorant again, applying it quickly while holding Yuta with one arm.
“See? Multitasking. This is what peak adulting looks like, Yuta-kun.”
Yuta stared at him like he didn’t understand a single word.
“…Yeah, you’ve got time,” Kuroo added.
Once he finished, he set the bottle down and looked at his son.
“So,” he said, poking Yuta’s cheek lightly. “Why’re you up so early, hm? Planning something? Causing chaos already?”
Yuta puffed his cheeks. “No chaos.”
“That’s exactly what someone planning chaos would say.”
“Papa.”
“Hm?”
“Hungry.”
Kuroo paused, then laughed.