Ill-Fated Calf-Love

Kuroo

The upperclassmen seemed to have a new respect for him since he'd broke Nobuyuki's nose and fractured his own right hand. They'd invited him to another party and convinced his mom to let him come without waiting for his answer. It was easier to drink this time around and he thought he might actually take a liking to beer.

He'd been texting Akaashi at the beginning of the night, but Akaashi had stopped replying. He assumed that Nishinoya had managed to drag him into conversation or wouldn't let him check his phone anymore. Kuroo didn't know whose house he was at, only that it belonged to a member of Karasuno's football team as they'd passed the school on their way. Players from Karasuno, Nekoma, Nohebi, and Aoba Johsai flowed through the home, all ill-thoughts and tension with each other left on the field when the school year had ended.

Kuroo stayed with Nobuyuki and Fukunaga for most of the night until his mom called. Fighting his way outside where it was quieter, he answered. "Mom?" Instantly, he was worried, muffled sobs echoing through the speaker as she tried to talk. It was broke, but he caught bits and pieces of it.

"Kuroo, thank goodness! There's.... an accident.... your father.... in the hospital... are you-" He'd dropped his phone then, shock coursing through him. Scrambling to pick it up, the line went dead. He didn't call her back though. He called Akaashi. Once, twice, ten times. Each call went straight to voicemail. Kuroo was panicking. He needed Akaashi, but Akaashi wasn't answering. He'd promised he'd always be there when Kuroo needed him, but he wasn't.

His eyes fell on the empty beer can beside him and suddenly Kuroo craved that mind-numbing buzz. Nobuyuki and Fukunaga were in the kitchen where he'd left them, but he headed straight for the cooler. He didn't know how many beers he downed before the one in his hand disappeared.

"Jesus, Kuroo. Are you alright, man?" Nobuyuki looked genuinely concerned, but all Kuroo saw was the beer that had just been taken from him. He reached for it, stumbling when his hand was pushed away.

He didn't know the blond who caught him.

"He's drunk as shit, Nobu. His mom's going to kill us." That'd be Fukunaga.

"Relax. I'm not letting him go anywhere like this or I'll never be able to throw another party. Kei, take him up to your room. Don't give me that look. He needs to be somewhere quiet to sober up and you put up those noise-canceling boards on your walls. I'll be up with water for him in a minute."

Kuroo didn't fight it when the boy in question slid from his seat on the counter and half-guided, half-carried him upstairs and into a bedroom. He fell onto the bed when the boy let go. The first blond was there then, handing a couple bottles of water to the boy who had carried Kuroo. He thought they might be brothers, but the thought was gone before he could voice it, slipping easily from his drunken mind.

"Stay with him until he sobers up."

"Why should I have to? It's your party."

"Would you rather keep an eye on everyone else then?"

"Ugh, no. You owe me for this. I didn't agree to babysitting, Akiteru."

"Yeah, yeah."

Kuroo didn't follow the conversation more than that, eyes drifting closed. A hand grabbed his shirt, hauling him up into a sitting position. His eyes flew open, landing on the blond's face. He wore an annoyed expression, but there was amusement in his eyes behind wire-framed glasses. "Don't fall asleep here. Drink." The bottle pressed forcefully into his hand.

Obediently, Kuroo managed to unscrew the lid and drink soome, not realizing how dry his mouth was until he did.

"Not that fast!" The bottle was wrenched from his grasp. "I don't need you throwing up in my room."