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"I'm dead," Kuroo laughs, face pressed into his pillow, "You killed me. You finally killed me."
Beside him, Bokuto releases an exasperated groan and begins to tug at his arm. "Get up, asshole."
"I regret to inform you that Kuroo Tetsurou has passed away. My deepest condolences."
"Kuroo."
"Nope, too fucked out. The only way I'm getting into that shower right now is if you carry me."
"Kuroo, come onnnn!" Bokuto whines, shoving at his boyfriend's side, "You can't sleep in my bed if there's jizz all over you!"
Propping himself up on one elbow, Kuroo flashes his customary sardonic smile. "Well, your dick's what killed me, isn't it? Take some responsibility."
"Fine." Bokuto huffs, delivering a light smack to Kuroo's ass before standing up and sliding his arms under Kuroo's body.
"What are you—Hey!"
Before Kuroo has a chance to adequately protest, he feels himself being hoisted off the bed and into Bokuto's arms bridal-style, one hand wrapped around the small of his back and the other supporting his thighs. It's...nice, admittedly—being held like this, pressed snugly against Bokuto's broad chest and encased in his sturdy embrace, absorbing the warmth radiating from his body.
At the same time, though, the sight of one fully grown, fully naked college-aged boy carrying another fully grown, fully naked college-aged boy in his arms is probably nothing short of mortifying, and Kuroo can't help but feel exposed despite their lack of an audience.
"Toldja I'd do it," Bokuto says, grinning.
No, you didn't, Kuroo thinks, but Bokuto looks so proud of himself that it doesn't seem worth it to argue.
Bokuto indeed carries Kuroo to the bathroom, putting him down only once he needs both hands to gather their towels and turn on the shower. Stepping into the tepid spray, Kuroo allows Bokuto to pull him back against his chest, resting his head against Bokuto's shoulder as the warm water washes over them.
Kuroo surrenders himself to Bokuto completely: lets him wash his hair, gently scrub the cum off his stomach, dry him with a fluffy towel, lead him back to the bedroom, and dress him in flannel pajama pants and an oversized sweatshirt. He hadn't really been lying earlier—the enthusiasm with which Bokuto approaches sex leaves him satisfied but physically exhausted, and he's more than content to let Bokuto spoil him.
When they climb into bed, Bokuto wraps an arm around Kuroo's stomach and draws him close, nuzzling his face into the crook of Kuroo's neck and planting wet kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose. Kuroo laughs, pretending to push his over-affectionate boyfriend away but arching into his caresses all the same.
Suddenly Bokuto draws back and takes Kuroo's face in his hands. His eyes are wide, exhilarated—the kind of look he gets when he slams a spike past an opposing team's blockers.
"I really love you, you know?" he says, pronouncing each word earnestly, as if he's never been more serious about anything in his life.
A wave of nervous excitement washes over Kuroo, and he feels as if he's in high school again, heart fluttering like his crush has just acknowledged him for the first time. Warmth blossoms in his stomach and spreads through him, and his face burns with what he's sure is a visible blush. Throughout their years together—first as friends, then as boyfriends—they've exchanged "I love you"s plenty of times, but never like this, never so meaningfully.
"I—I love you, too."
He might be flustered, unused to displaying such intimate feelings so openly, but it's worth it to see the way Bokuto lights up upon hearing his reply, positively beaming with adoration.
"Really?" Bokuto asks, eyes fixed on Kuroo's. "Really really? Like, for real!?"
"Yes," Kuroo nods, "really really. For real."
Bokuto practically hoots with excitement before surging forward, pressing his mouth firmly against Kuroo's own once, twice, three times before drawing back to gaze at him again.
"I am so happy!" he says, as if it's not already apparent.
Kuroo sighs fondly, sliding his hands around Bokuto's neck and pulling him down until their faces are only millimeters apart. It's Bokuto who moves to close the distance first, nipping at Kuroo's lips with uncharacteristic restraint, stroking his cheeks with his thumbs, swiping his tongue gently along the inside of Kuroo's mouth.
They break apart at last, and Kuroo settles against Bokuto's chest, closing his eyes as exhaustion overtakes him once again.
“Wait!" Bokuto says abruptly, reaching over Kuroo and grabbing his phone off the nightstand. "Okay, now we can lay down."
Curious, Kuroo opens his eyes—just in time to see Bokuto snap a picture of the two of them curled up together before setting it as his phone background.
"Ugh, delete that."
"No way! I'm gonna show this to everyone I meet so they can see how cute and perfect my boyfriend is, and they'll be sooooo jealous."
Kuroo makes a big show of grumbling and groaning, pulling the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head and burrowing his face further into Bokuto's chest while his boyfriend laughs. Despite his complaining, however, the feeling of affection that rushes through him makes it impossible not to smile.