The air was heavy and hot, humid and trenched in the unnatural bass of loud digital tunes. Bodies were moving, asynchronously, to the beats of it, skins coated in sweat and lust, reeking sour and of alcohol. He had been watching the mass of people move across the dance floor for quite a while now, downing one drink after another. The crowd consisted mainly of young adults, like he was one himself, who seemed to enjoy the music and emotional hollering of the, seemingly talented DJ, more than he ever could at a location like this. Despite what people might've thought of him, he disliked cramped areas and music with strong beats that made him think his heart would pick up on them and rip at their intensity.
Though these aspects weren't usually a reason for him not to get drunk and dance for a while, really.
"Kuroo, don't be a party pooper", his best friend slurred, the grin on his face breaking through the bright redness of his cheeks.
"I'm not", he muttered, turning away from the white haired.
"Sure are", Akaashi chuckled, taking another sip of from his glass that contained some mysterious dark blue liquid,
"You've been frowning all evening."
Bokuto let out a howl in agreement, before letting his head fall onto his boyfriend's shoulder and his eyes close shut.
"I noticed, Keiji. I don't know why I even agreed to join you in the first place."
The raven opposite of him let out a husky laugh, subconsciously running his fingers through Bokuto's dyed hair.
"Come on Kuroo", the latter now whined, his eyes still closed,
"Can't you just forget about her for now and continue your self-pity tomorrow morning? It's not like she was anything special to you anyway, man."
Akaashi must've pulled at the drunk boy's hair, because he suddenly jolted upright, childishly crying out in pain.
"Don't say things like that, Bokuto-san."
"I mean it's true and Kuroo knows it", Koutarou mumbled, his hand rubbing at the back of his head.
Kuroo scoffed and turned back to look at the dance floor.
Of course he knew. It wasn't like she'd been the first girlfriend to break up with him either. But for some reason, this time, it had stung worse than the last couple of times he'd got broken up with. He didn't quite know why exactly, though.
"Of course I do. I think it's just that I'm not sure what I did wrong this time."
Akaashi's eyes met his at the confession, brows furrowing when he saw the grimace on Kuroo's face.
"You do know it's not your fault, right?"
Kuroo didn't turn to look at him but shrugged.
"God, Kuroo-san, she got back together with her ex, it's common. I don't want to sound rude, but why are you sad about it when you didn't like her in the first place?"
There was no answer to his question as Kuroo pushed his chair back and excused himself.
He just needed to get some fresh air, clear up his mind, if in any way possible. He himself didn't know why he was upset about something so insignificant. He hadn't liked her and he knew from the start that their relationship wouldn't be more than a temporary thing, a distraction on both ends. He hadn't hooked up with girls in a while and his friends had started to tease him about it, so he agreed on being her toy for as long as it lasted.
His train of thought was interrupted once he stepped out into the mild spring breeze that felt like a polar opposite to the stuffy air inside the crowded club.
He pulled out his half empty, or as Bokuto had taught him, half full, pack of cigarettes. He'd had the same pack for about a month now, having developed a habit of pulling it out and twirling it around between his fingers, before putting it back into his pocket, never actually lighting a cigarette when he was alone.
It wasn't the taste that he disliked, or the smell. He simply found the fact that people bought death in a package ridiculous. However, he didn't mind so much if people smoked around him, even though he was well aware that the difference wasn't as grave as one would expect.
