new york city, baby
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“So, I was talking to this guy at the gala last week, you know the one that my dad made me go for to network for the business, and there I got to talking to this guy, the secretary of the French ambassador or something, and–”
“I don’t need to hear a play-by-play of your entire time at the gala, Tadashi,” Kei says, irritated. “I go to plenty of those myself already. I know how they work. Just get to the point.”
Kei leans back, picks up his fork, and spears a bite of his shortcake as he waits for Yamaguchi to speak. A stupidly expensive cake, for what it’s worth, but it tastes good, so Kei supposes it isn’t so bad.
“Basically,” Yamaguchi says, “there’s this rumour that Kuroo Tetsurou has a gigantic crush on you.”
Kei drops his fork.
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- Part 1 of new york city, baby
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Or maybe Kuroo is just here to play a trick on him. A very elaborate trick, granted, given that he’s been insisting he’s actually the exhibition designer for this, it’s true, I’m not lying, didn’t you read the memo sent to you, but Kuroo Tetsurou doesn’t seem like he’s above carrying out a scheme this elaborate just so he can reveal he’s been fucking around at the end. If this really is the case, oh my god, Tsukishima is going to kill him, he actually will, how dare he do something like this–
“Okay, so it’s decided, we’ll display all the models in various stages of fucking, all of them in different positions – I bet we could position the pterodactyl model to look like it's screwing the compsognathus from the back somehow, you know, and we can have all the models just fornicating–”
Kei’s head snaps up. “What?” He yelps.
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- Part 2 of new york city, baby