Unexpected Allure

The gymnasium of Nekoma High buzzed with the usual pre-practice energy. The team was warming up, stretching and passing, when the door slid open. Kuroo Tetsurou walked in, fifteen minutes late, and every single person froze.

He wore a short black skirt that hugged his hips and ended mid-thigh, paired with heeled boots that clicked against the polished floor. His hair was slightly longer, tousled in a way that framed his face. A hint of eyeliner made his amber eyes smolder, and his lips had a subtle gloss. A lacy black bra peeked from under his white button-up shirt, unbuttoned just enough to be scandalous.

Kenma's jaw dropped. Yamamoto dropped a volleyball. Lev just stared, his tail of hair forgotten.

Kuroo ignored them all, walking to the bench and pulling off the skirt to reveal volleyball shorts that were far too short—they ended at the hem of his black tights. His jersey was tailored tight against his lean muscles, and every time he bent or moved, a flash of lace showed from beneath the shorts.

He turned to the team, voice softer than usual, almost a purr. "Sorry I'm late. Let's get started."

No one moved. Then the door slammed open.

"HEY HEY HEY!" Bokuto Koutarou burst in, arms raised, a huge grin on his face. Then he saw Kuroo. His arms dropped. His grin faded. His golden eyes widened, tracing every curve and line of Kuroo's body.

"...Bro?" Bokuto's voice cracked.

Kuroo smirked, a slow, predatory thing. He sauntered over, heels clicking, hips swaying. "Hey, Bokuto. Nice to see you."

Bokuto swallowed. His gaze dropped to the lace peeking out, then snapped back up. "You... you look..."

"Different?" Kuroo finished, stepping closer. Their chests almost touched. "Like what you see?"

Bokuto's breath hitched. "Uh... yeah?"

Kuroo laughed, a soft sound. He reached up and traced a finger along Bokuto's jaw. "Good. Because I dressed just for you."

Practice was a blur. Every time Bokuto spiked, Kuroo was there, blocking, their bodies close. Kuroo's tights brushed Bokuto's legs. Kuroo's hair flicked sweat into Bokuto's face. And Kuroo's eyes never left him.

After practice, the gym emptied. Bokuto lingered, pretending to tie his shoes. Kuroo approached, still in his uniform.

"Waiting for me?" Kuroo asked, voice low.

Bokuto stood, facing him. "What's going on, Kuroo? Why are you... like this?"

Kuroo stepped into his space, pressing his chest against Bokuto's. "Because I wanted you to see me. Really see me." He grabbed Bokuto's hand and placed it on his hip, where the lace of his underwear was visible. "Feel me."

Bokuto's fingers trembled, but he didn't pull away. He slid his hand under the jersey, feeling the warm skin, the lace edge. "You're... really hot," he breathed.

Kuroo moaned softly, tilting his head back. "Touch me more."

Bokuto's other hand came up to cup Kuroo's cheek, thumb brushing his glossed lip. "I want to kiss you."

"Then do it."

Their lips met, soft at first, then hungry. Bokuto's hands roamed Kuroo's back, pulling him closer. Kuroo's nails, long and painted black, scraped through Bokuto's hair.

Kuroo pulled back, breathing hard. "I need you. Now."

Bokuto looked around. "Here?"

"No one's coming back." Kuroo took his hand and led him to the equipment room, shutting the door. It was dim, smelling of rubber and sweat.

Kuroo pressed Bokuto against the wall, kissing his neck, biting lightly. Bokuto groaned, hands gripping Kuroo's hips, feeling the lace. He slid his fingers under the shorts, tracing the edge of the underwear.

"These are so fucking sexy," Bokuto muttered.

Kuroo laughed breathlessly. "I wore them for you."

Bokuto spun him around, pressing him against the wall. He yanked the shorts down just enough to expose the black lace thong. He ran a hand over Kuroo's ass, squeezing.

"More," Kuroo begged.

Bokuto complied, sliding the thong down, letting it pool at Kuroo's knees. He knelt, kissing the back of Kuroo's thighs, then stood, pressing his hardness against Kuroo's bare skin.

"Are you sure?" Bokuto whispered.

"Yes. I've wanted this for so long."

Bokuto reached into his bag, pulling out a small bottle of lube—always prepared. He slicked his fingers, prepping Kuroo slowly, tenderly, while Kuroo moaned and pushed back against him.

When Bokuto entered him, they both gasped. Kuroo's hands flattened against the wall, his head bowed. Bokuto moved slowly, deeply, whispering Kuroo's name.

"Faster," Kuroo begged.

Bokuto obliged, thrusting harder, the sound of skin slapping filling the small room. Kuroo's moans grew louder, more desperate. He came first, shuddering against the wall, and Bokuto followed moments later, burying his face in Kuroo's neck.

They stayed tangled together, breathing heavy. Bokuto pulled out gently, turning Kuroo to face him. He kissed his forehead, his nose, his lips.

"You're beautiful," Bokuto said. "No matter what you wear."

Kuroo smiled, genuine and soft. "I know. But I wanted to be beautiful for you."

"You always are."

They dressed in silence, stealing glances and smiles. When they left the equipment room, the gym was empty, the lights dim.

"Same time tomorrow?" Kuroo asked, a hint of his usual smirk returning.

Bokuto grinned, his trademark brightness back. "HEY HEY HEY! You bet, bro."

Kuroo laughed, taking his hand. "Come on, let's get some food. I'm starving."

As they walked out into the cold night, hand in hand, Kuroo knew this was just the beginning. And he couldn't wait to see what other outfits he could surprise Bokuto with.