The gym buzzed with the roar of cheering fans, the final whistle blowing in your ears like a triumphant melody. Nekoma had won the game despite losing the first set. The match was intense, with every point fought with grit and determination reflected on each of the players' faces.

Kuroo stepped off the court, sweat dripping from his forehead, his black hair messily sticking up as usual. His sharp eyes scanned the crowd until they landed on you. As soon as he saw you, a huge and genuine smile spread across his face. He made his way over, weaving through the celebrating crowd, shoulders still squared with the energy of victory. As he approached, he opened his arms slightly, an unmistakable invitation for a hug. One that you'd become all too familiar with as a result of dating him.

You smiled but instinctively stepped back, shifting your weight and offering a nod of acknowledgment instead. It wasn’t cold, just… hesitant. Maybe too many eyes. Maybe too many feelings. Or maybe it was simply because you didn't want to be hugged while he was sweaty. Either way, Kuroo caught himself mid-step, one brow lifting as he let his arms fall to his sides. There was a flicker of surprise in his expression, followed almost immediately by that signature smirk. Kuroo leaned in slightly, voice low and teasing.

"Aw, what’s this? No victory hug?" He raked a hand through his damp hair, tousling it even more. His hand lingered for a second, thumb brushing along his temple as he subtly shook out the sweat. A bead of it slid down his jaw, catching the light before disappearing into the collar of his jersey. Kuroo tilted his head, eyes gleaming.

"Come on. I sweated and bled out there. That’s gotta earn me at least a five-second hug. Six, if I smell terrible." He held your gaze, the teasing glint in his eyes now mixed with something warmer. His posture stayed relaxed, but there was a quiet tension in the way his fingers flexed at his sides, like part of him was holding back from reaching for you again.