trashcan (literal trash)

Can You Hear It? ( [ crack ] oneshot )

I was struggling between YakuLev or BokuAka. In the end, I chose YakuLev. I can't write Bokuto or Akaashi idek why

This is a oneshot that I wrote for humorous purposes because I want to discard all the serious auras and shiz happening in the other oneshots LMAAAO and. . .

Note: lev = russian-- //kicked

Now you probably know the origin of the title. *wink* I advise you to stop drinking anything or eating at the last part of the story.

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Yaku looked at himself in the mirror, in his best formal clothes and in all of his fun-sized glory. The black jerkin he borrowed from one of his former teammates was too large for him, and he had to rush towards a rental shop in order to find some kind of other waistcoat that wouldn't actually look like a potato sack with arm holes when he donned it.

He made it on time, but by the moment he was done with the preparations, it was already five hours to the event. He had to run across the street all the way down to a stylist's shop which specialized in formal occasions. It was recommended to him by a close acquaintance, so he'd intended to try it out.

He went through a lot more perils as he scurried from shop to shop, but oh well. Atleast he was here now, all done and ready to go. But he wasn't exactly ready to attend the event yet. As he glanced at his reflection once more, his breath caught in his throat. He was anxious. He never even thought he'd actually start to feel this way because of some stupid walking stick who made his way into fame as he graduated from highschool.

It wasn't because he was well-known now or something. Yaku knew for all Kuroo's shit-eating grin was worth that he wasn't some gold-digger who sought for power and nothing else. He was too shy to admit it at first, and he couldn't even believe himself when he first started to get these queer, questionable thoughts. Of all people, he seriously found out about his sexuality because of Haiba Lev?

If the dude up in the sky was a prankster, Yaku could have sworn it was a joke back then. Like the way you'd run around a carousel and try to reach the end, he thought he was actually a foolish little drunk thought when he first had it. At 24, he didn't actually get drunk, though. He didn't even drink alcohol. If disinfectant was included, then he has all the right to say that it was an accident.

As he tugged on his sleeves once again, suddenly very conscious of how he looked like, a knock came from the other side of the door. As he slowly pulled it open, unsure, Kuroo's face and that same abnormal hairstyle of his peeked in from the gap between the door and the doorframe. It startled Yaku like how much a hysterically laughing Kenma startles the former team captain, and so, he literally slammed the door back into place.

And anyone could guess what happened.

As the two formally-dressed people went down the porch, Kuroo coughed again as he rubbed his neck.
"Dude, seriously? If I didn't know better, I would've thought you were actually trying to kill me."
"Maybe I was." The shorter male replied, lowering his head in a mock bow.
"Go fuck a cactus or something."
"Sounds like something you would do."

As the barrage of insults crossed between them, the sound of a horn echoed through the empty street. Seeing as it came from his car, Kuroo sighed and jogged towards the red vehicle that stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the grey houses that had paint peeling off their bodies. The former team captain opened the door to the driver's seat, and, ushered Yaku into the back.

"Why'd you leave your glasses behind?"
"I don't really fancy wearing it to formal events like these." The brunette answered with a shrug.

Kenma sat on the front seat, holding on tightly to the seatbelt that kept him strapped to the car's interior. He was wearing a dark black tailcoat for some odd reason, and there were white gloves that covered his hands.
"You have an odd choice in clothing." Yaku murmured, watching him glare at Kuroo -- who gave an answer to Yaku's statement -- for taking so long.