Story's on archive so you can read here (smut)

Kurro x

Kuroo had been working late all week - getting home on the last train and sleeping on the couch so he wouldn't wake up Kenma when he got in. An important contract was riding on this promotional campaign, and he needed to put his best effort into it. Unfortunately, this meant twelve or fourteen-hour work days, eating lunch on the run if he got to eat at all, and no time to spend with his husband. "I'm really sorry," he said for the fiftieth time that week, as he was grabbing a quick breakfast before heading out the door. "Hopefully after tonight I'll be done with this project and we'll have a chance to relax together."

"I hope so, otherwise at this rate I'll probably get bored and leave you," Kenma said drily, from the depths of his cushy bathrobe. Kuroo was pretty sure Kenma was joking, since he still kissed him goodbye anyway. Still, just in case, he made sure to send him a quick text between meetings.

Are you still planning on leaving me?

Mm. Not right now. How are things going at work?

Good, I really do think I'll be done tonight. Maybe we can celebrate?

Sure, I guess. I'll take care of things.

Kuroo figured that meant that Kenma would order dinner. Maybe they'd watch a movie afterwards, and actually go to bed at the same time, in the same room. That would be nice for a change. But he was already running late for his next meeting, so he didn't have time to reply, beyond a quick "ok" and some hearts, before he shoved his phone in the pocket of his suit and didn't look at it again for hours.

It was only once he was on the way home, his project successfully delivered and after a mandatory quick drink to celebrate with the rest of his team, that he had an opportunity to look at it once more, and found that Kenma had sent one more message, several hours after the last one.

When you get home, follow instructions.

That was intriguing, to say the least. Even though he was tired after a long, stressful day, his interest was piqued. He thought about replying to ask for more details, but knowing Kenma, he wouldn't provide them. Instead, he just texted back, "Yes sir." A warm jolt of pleasure passed through his body, as it always did when he knew Kenma was planning something special.

At home, hanging from the doorknob was a mask. It was one of Kenma's sleep masks, soft black silk, with an elastic to hold it in place. There was also a post-it note (one of Kenma's, covered in cute cartoon cats), which read, "Put it on before you come inside."

Kuroo did as he was told, slipping the mask on as he opened the door. "Kenma? I'm home..." He moved cautiously into the entryway to take off his shoes, holding his hands out in case he bumped into anything.

"Good," Kenma's voice said. He was a few meters away, standing in the door to the living room, and Kuroo turned his head instinctually in that direction. "Get undressed," Kenma ordered.

Kuroo started by taking off his suit jacket. He couldn't see to hang it up somewhere, so Kenma took it out of his hand. "Are you hanging that up?" he asked, a little concerned. It wasn't a cheap suit.

"No," Kenma said. "I'm throwing it on the ground, right by the door where it'll get dirty." Kuroo wasn't entirely sure whether to believe him or not. "I'll buy you a new one, if you're a good boy," Kenma added, and Kuroo could hear the smile on his lips. "Keep going. Shirt next."

Loosening his tie so he could slide it off, Kuroo again handed it over to Kenma. He unbuttoned his dress shirt and let it fall to the floor. He took a couple paces forward, until he was close to where he thought Kenma was. "Pants too?"

"Everything," Kenma said, tugging his belt open. "You did say you wanted to celebrate when you got home."

"What are you planning?" Kuroo asked, stepping out of his pants once he had them unfastened. He was already half-hard, anticipating something exciting.