Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The morning is downcast and gray.

Kenma wakes up to a sharp pounding in his head, like a million jackhammers are drilling into his skull, and there’s a dryness in his mouth and throat. Whatever meager sunlight is peaking in through their curtains is too bright, enough to even be blinding. Kenma groans as he sits up in bed, already a feat in itself given that his body wants nothing more in that moment than to be horizontal. 

There’s a glass of water, a bottle of Pocari Sweat and a bottle of hangover pills on the bedside table. Distantly, he can hear the shower running. The other side of the bed is all rumpled, the comforter looking like it was thrown off in a hurry, the pillow still sunken in the center where its owner’s head lay.

Kenma shivers, scampers over to his knapsack and pulls out an oversized hoodie. He puts it on before he grabs his phone and situates himself back on the bed, leaning against the headrest as he scrolls through his emails and social media, more to have something to do with his hands than anything else while his brain tries to piece together what happened last night.

Everything that he can remember comes in flashes and scenes. Not really one coherent thing but rather separate blurry pictures all arranged in the wrong order. He remembers the afterparty (well, most of it anyway) and playing spin the bottle. He remembers, vaguely, making out with Kuroo as a dare and then一

The shower stops running. There’s the slam of a door, a sigh and then Kuroo walks in with nothing but a towel around his waist. He comes to an abrupt stop when he sees Kenma awake and they spend an uncomfortably long and awkward second just staring at each other before Kenma averts his gaze back down to his phone. Kuroo runs over to his knapsack to scrounge for some clothes before retreating back into the bathroom to change.

Kenma runs back to his knapsack, grabs the sweatpants that he had worn the night before and pulls them on in a hurry. His skin crawls with discomfort and heat floods his cheeks as it all comes back to him - Kuroo slamming him against walls, Kuroo kissing him like his life depended on it, and Kuroo’s hands roaming all over his body, right down to his一

Kuroo clears his throat loudly and Kenma looks up to find him standing fully-dressed at the foot of the bed. 

“Um. Hey.” Kuroo smiles weakly. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Kenma says before he looks back down at his phone. 

Kuroo clears his throat again. “So, uh, I just wanted to say一”

“It’s okay,” Kenma interjects. He forces a laugh. “We don’t need to talk about it. Never happened, right?”

Kuroo blinks. “Oh.” He coughs into his hand and nods. “Right. Never happened.”

“So we’re in agreement.”

“Yeah. Totally. I mean, of course. Wouldn’t want a scandal like this to come out, right?” He’s back to teasing and at least the smile he gives then seems a lot more genuine. Kenma nods slowly before returning to his phone. Kuroo gives one last awkward cough before he starts picking their discarded clothes up from the floor and laying them out on the bed to be folded.

“Better start packing up soon,” he tells Kenma. “Or we’ll miss the free breakfast. Plus we need to check out in like three hours. Oh and take some of those hangover pills. I know you had a lot to drink last night.”

Kenma nods and sets aside his phone without another word. He downs a pill with the entire glass of water then takes some Pocari Sweat for good measure before he goes to take a shower. They don’t say another word to each other after that, as Kenma gets dressed and starts packing up his things. 

He smooths out the creases in his suit as best as he can before putting it back in its garment bag. He packs up his clothes, his Switch and all his chargers into his knapsack, cramming everything into the closest semblance to order that he can manage in his current state. He helps Kuroo tidy up the room as much as he can, arranging the sheets, fluffing up the pillows, putting away whatever garbage they might have thrown on the floor. With the way Kuroo finishes his tasks without a problem, Kenma has to wonder if Kuroo is even hungover or if he just has a much higher tolerance than he had expected.

By the time they head downstairs to the dining hall, their room looks pristine and untouched, the only evidence that they had even been there being the used towels in the bathroom and the tied up trash bag in the corner. 

They meet the rest of their teammates from Nekoma in the dining hall for brunch. Yaku looks even more hungover than Kenma is, delicately cradling his head in his hands and flinching at the slightest higher-than-normal noise. Lev has to sit the furthest away from him on the basis that even Lev’s normal speaking volume grates painfully on Yaku’s ears. Kenma has to agree.

Kai gives them their party favors that they had forgotten to claim at the end of the reception - a large cellophane-wrapped basket full of sweets and omiyage, including a box of fancy wagashi and some of Sendai’s famous zunda mochi, all of which Kenma can’t wait to try on the long train ride home. Right on top of the pile of omiyage is a round commemorative ceramic plate printed with a picture of the happy couple, Hinata grinning and holding up a peace sign while beside him, Kageyama’s smile is as stiff as a piece of cardboard, very much like the forced smile he gives in every commercial he appears in.

Predictably, everyone teases Kuroo and Kenma about disappearing in the middle of their spin the bottle game, not even bothering to tell their friends where they were going or what they were planning on doing, though judging by the way everyone grins and waggles their eyebrows, pretty much everyone knows what they were doing. They tease and poke fun and make suggestive comments but Kuroo simply laughs it off, arm around Kenma’s shoulder, and teases them right back, claiming that they probably don’t want to know just what exactly they were up to when they left. Kenma can’t help but agree.

At least the food is good and helps to ease his pounding headache a little, though his throat feels like it’s lined with sandpaper and the urge to vomit never goes away. Nevertheless, he manages to get through the brunch without hurling everything he ate back out and before long, Kuroo is getting up from his seat, telling everyone that they need to go catch their shinkansen ride back home. 

They say goodbye to their teammates outside the hotel, exchanging hugs and well wishes and already making plans for when they get back to Tokyo, half of which Kenma isn’t sure he’s going to go through with. It isn’t until Yamamoto is jokingly asking him if he’s going to start showing up to stuff again that Kenma realizes that he and Kuroo never discussed what’s going to happen next. Do they go back to their games of hide and seek or do they no longer have an excuse? But he tells Yamamoto ‘maybe’ with a joking smile of his own, trying to put on that same indifferent air he’s always had.

To his surprise, neither Kai nor Yaku seem to have any more words to spare for him or Kuroo. Kai pats him lightly on the shoulder and gives him one last enigmatic smile, telling him to keep in touch, while Yaku does much the same, though a lot more teasing and nagging in a way. They don’t let their gazes linger for longer than they should and they don’t pull Kenma aside to whisper something in his ear or pass a surreptitious note into his hand. They smile and wave goodbye along with everyone else as Kenma climbs into the waiting taxi with Kuroo.

And then they’re gone, disappearing into the distance as their taxi drives away, taking them to the train station. They don’t stop for any more detours or to buy souvenirs. They get on their train early and plop down on their seats. Kenma wishes he could pass out and stay unconscious till they get to Tokyo but the still present headache makes it hard for him to fall asleep, especially when the train starts moving, and Kuroo seems adamant in staying silent throughout the whole ride.

Kuroo has the window seat this time. His elbow is perched on the sill, chin sometimes resting in the palm of his hand or against his knuckles, always staring out at whatever is outside of the window, looking like he’s searching for something. The silence surrounds him like a bubble, with walls just translucent enough to let Kenma know that he’s still there, but with some unnameable force preventing him from even reaching a hand out to touch him.

There’s so many things he wants to say, so many questions he wants to ask. What’s going to happen to them now? Are they friends again after this? How are they supposed to divide the omiyage basket between them? 

But Kenma lets Kuroo keep his silence all throughout the train ride home. At some point, he does end up falling asleep and when he wakes up what feels like only minutes after, his headache has gone and he doesn’t feel as groggy or as sluggish anymore. 

They don’t really say anything or tell each other where they’re going but Kuroo ends up taking the train with Kenma and walking him home. There’s nothing but the sound of their footsteps on the pavement, the crackling of the cellophane on the omiyage basket, and the noisy calls of the birds perched on the electric wires above their heads, watching them pass with beady eyes. 

Despite how awkward they’ve made it by drawing it out as long as they have, the silence is strangely comforting to Kenma. Like the calm before the storm. Like a quiet moment before the end. He almost wants to draw it out even longer. Take a wrong turn or insist that he needs to stop by a shop before he gets home. Anything to make the moment last before it comes to its inevitable end. 

But then just like that, he blinks and it’s like waking up from a long nap in the back of a car and finding yourself back home. They stand in front of Kenma’s front door and he puts down his knapsack, digging through the pockets for his key. After a while, he finds it and fishes it out, fumbling for a moment before he unlocks the door. 

He sighs and turns to Kuroo. “Well. This is me.”

Kuroo nods. “Yeah. It is.”

They’re quiet for a moment and it’s almost somber. Kenma almost wants to joke about it, say that it feels like one of them is about to die, but he decides not to.

“How about, um.” He gestures towards the omiyage basket. “How do we一”

“You can have it,” Kuroo says before he hands it over to Kenma. 

“Oh. You sure?”

“Yeah. Half of the shit in there is going to give me a stomachache for weeks, I think.”

They both get a good chuckle out of that before it dies out and they both stand there awkwardly. Kenma reaches to scratch his arm. Kuroo keeps glancing around, hands in his pockets, as if looking for something to talk about.

Kenma clears his throat. “You know, I can send you some cash later if you want.” 

He gets nothing but a look of confusion from Kuroo and he quickly scrambles for an explanation. “I-I meant as repayment. You know, for the thing? It’s...what you get in return for doing this with me?”

“Oh!” Kuroo laughs and scratches the back of his neck. “No, it’s fine. You don’t need to.”

“You sure? ‘Cause it looks to me like you did all of that work, all of that acting, even let me keep all the souvenirs, and you’re not getting anything in return.”

Kuroo shakes his head. “I didn’t go into this expecting some kind of reward.”

“How noble of you.”

“That’s just how naturally kind I am, remember?”

Kenma chuckles and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear. “Yeah, well. You did good.” He makes an effort to really look Kuroo in the eyes and smile. “Thank you. I mean it.”

Something in Kuroo’s expression changes then. It’s the most minuscule thing but Kenma notices it all the same. There’s a gleam in his eyes, as if he had just thought of something or arrived at a revelation, and his lips part. He can’t stop looking at Kenma’s face, like he’s taking in as much of it as he can, and Kenma realizes that this might be the very last time they see each other.

He takes a deep breath and looks at Kuroo, committing everything he can to memory. The outline of his jaw, the arch of his eyebrows, even the little gray hairs that he won’t admit he’s got. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes that show themselves the most prominently when he laughs. The way one corner of his mouth is higher than the other when he smiles. The way he’s looking at him right now, the way Kenma remembers him looking at him in his best memories of them, as if he’s the only other person in the entire world.

Kenma takes it all in, immortalizes it in his mind along with every other memory of Kuroo that he can never let go of, and he smiles and says, “Bye.”

He turns his back on Kuroo and pushes his front door open, dragging his knapsack in with him.

“Kenma, wait.”

Kuroo’s voice is calm and collected, not at all urgent or hurried. Kenma stops and turns. “Yeah?” he says, hoping against all hope that his voice doesn’t crack or that he won’t notice him blinking rapidly.

“I wanted to tell you,” Kuroo says. “I always meant to tell you. I’m sorry. For everything.”

Kenma stares at him before he gives a chuckle and begins, “It’s okay, I—“

“No,” Kuroo interrupts then pauses before he continues, “Sorry to interrupt you. There’s more I wanna say but do you wanna go first?”

Kenma shakes his head. “No, you go.”

Kuroo takes in a deep breath before he faces Kenma squarely again. “I’m sorry for never thinking about what you wanted. I’m sorry...for being so inconsiderate four years ago, for being such a goddamn idiot. I know you think some of it is your fault but it’s not. A lot of it...was all because I was being stupid and selfish and didn’t want to admit that I was in the wrong. You don’t have to forgive me. It would just be even more selfish of me to expect you to. I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I really am.”

Kenma can’t say anything for the longest time. He can only stand there and stare at Kuroo silently, halfway through his front door, one arm around the omiyage basket and his garment bag hanging from it while one hand holds his knapsack by  a strap. Kuroo’s expression never changes. It’s serious and almost solemn even. But it’s also earnest and it’s honest and just like that, Kenma forgets about everything that had ever happened between them. Every single time Kuroo had disappointed him, had let him down, had walked out when all Kenma wanted him to do was stay - it all seems so small and pointless.

“Okay,” Kenma says. “I...forgive you. I think I have for some time now.”

Kuroo smiles and looks down at his shoes. “And one other thing. All those times I said that I love you - that wasn’t acting.”

He lifts his eyes to meet Kenma’s and Kenma’s breath hitches. Kuroo gives him one last smile, kind and content, before he turns his back on him and leaves. He doesn’t look back once, even as Kenma remains standing in his doorway for what feels like forever, watching him go until he eventually turns a corner and disappears from sight.

****

Time goes on in much the same way it always does.

A few days have passed since the wedding. The contents of the omiyage basket have been half depleted and Kenma is intent on getting to the other half as soon as possible. The first day back from Sendai, Kenma had spent at least half an hour trying to figure out where he could put the commemorative plate up for display without it clashing with the rest of his furniture. Finally, he begrudgingly decides to put it on the mantle, way at the back. He tries not to look at the other photos on display. 

As he had expected, more work had piled up over the weekend while he was gone and there is no conceivable way to avoid it. So Kenma rolls up his sleeves and spends hours on end in his study, catching up to whatever needs to be done. At least he has all the sweets from the omiyage basket, his staunch companions on sluggish days and late nights.

A week after the wedding, Kenma finally takes a break and he spends one entire afternoon out on his engawa, feet hanging off the edge, all the shoji doors thrown open to let in the cool air, his old trusty electric fan buzzing away at the corner while he munches on what must be the last of the wagashi, and he finds his thoughts going back to Kuroo, as he had feared would happen.

Kenma hasn’t heard from him once since they got back to Tokyo and part of him is still unsure if that’s better or worse. He hasn’t gone through all the photos he took in Sendai, afraid that all it’ll do is remind him of Kuroo. Turns out, he doesn’t need the photos to remind him.

No matter how much he tries to distract himself with work, no matter how much he goes back to his old habit of burying himself in reports and Excel sheets in an effort to not think about whatever it is he doesn’t want to think about, it just doesn’t work as well as it used to. Every time he gets a quiet moment to himself - eating dinner on his kotatsu, sitting around playing a game in his home theatre, lying awake in bed as he tries to fall asleep - all he can see in his mind’s eye is Kuroo, standing on his front door step, hands in his pockets, giving him that one last meaningful smile before he turns his back and walks away.

It still boggles Kenma’s mind; how easily forgiveness came to him the moment Kuroo said he was sorry, how a single sentence, a single smile, could paralyze him and turn him into a living statue, helplessly watching the great love of his life walk away from him.

The love of his life.

Normally, Kenma would punch himself or melt in embarrassment for even just thinking that but there’s really no other way to get around it.

Kuroo Tetsurou was many things to Kenma. His childhood friend. His best friend. His teammate. His captain. His boyfriend. The greatest and only love of his life. And then his ex. And now? A weird limbo between ex, friend and love that he didn’t know existed until now.

At this point, Kenma doesn’t even need to ask himself over and over again about how he feels. He knows by now what it all meant - asking Kuroo to do this with him, pretending that they were still together, the vague hope that something would come out of it, though he had refused back then to give that something a name. He doesn’t need to ask himself what these feelings are when they’re feelings that he’s already felt before. Feelings that he realizes now, never truly left him. Talking it out with Kai at the reception had helped him to see it. 

The question that’s bothering him now, as he watches the sky turn orange and blue beyond his garden wall and his shadow lengthens on the floor behind him, is - will he? Can he? Can they ?

Kenma is still scared. He’d be lying if he says that he isn’t. Kai was right. Their past mistakes are always going to haunt them and the fear of repeating them will always be there. As much as he’s forgiven him, Kenma doesn’t think he can get another call or message from Kuroo explaining that he’ll be late or can’t show up to something they planned and not feel even just a little bit bothered by it. He’ll always doubt and be paranoid from now on, and while it could just be plain paranoia, how long until that becomes a problem? How long until they get sick of expectations again? 

Is he really ready to do this again? To play this game one more time and see how it’ll go? And for that matter, is Kuroo ready? Does he even want to?

Thinking about Kuroo’s rejection on their last night in the hotel, as embarrassing as it is, still stings and the fact that Kuroo simply told him that he loves him, has loved him the whole time, and then just walked away speaks louder to Kenma than any other words he might have said. Does that mean that he loves him still but doesn’t want to get back together? Did he pick those words exactly because they were going to be the last words he would ever say to him? Even now, after Kenma’s forgiven him for everything he’s ever done, he still won’t stay?

Kenma thinks about the look in Kuroo’s eyes then. There was definitely something sad about it, defeated even. But there was contentment in defeat, a gracious bow before his exit, as if he had lost something but was glad that the fight was over. He looked like someone who had given up. He had used his last trump card, executed his final move, and then simply left, not even sticking around to see if he really lost or won.

Kenma closes his eyes and pictures it for the hundredth time since it happened. Kuroo turning his back on him and walking away, not even looking back for one last glimpse. He thinks about how this might be his last memory of Kuroo - just him walking away and out of his life forever. And as Kenma remembers it all, engraves it into his memory for probably the thousandth time, he thinks to himself, no .

And as if the heavens had cleared and the gods were finally answering his prayers, Kenma thinks, that’s it . That’s the answer to everything that had been plaguing him this whole time. 

He doesn’t want that to be his last memory of Kuroo. He doesn’t want his whole pretend relationship to be the very last thing he and Kuroo did together. It’s too cruel a thing for fate to do that, bringing them back together to relive their past only to separate them in the end. Kenma didn’t go through all of that just to come out of it with the same things he started with. 

They’re never going to know for sure what’s going to happen in the future. But all Kenma knows is that he can’t allow Kuroo to tell him that he loves him and then just walk away like that. He wants to grab Kuroo’s hand, pull him back and scream into his face for even just thinking that he can do that to him. He wants to tell him that he wants to make more memories with him, that he doesn’t want there to ever be a last time. Even if it’s not as lovers this time, even if they’re just friends. 

He wants Kuroo to stay.

And it’s that simple fact, that one simple admission that he’s been too scared to say, that finally drives him to get up from his seat, walk into his house and act. But he wouldn’t be Kenma if he didn’t overthink things first and made sure about every single detail. So instead of going right over to Kuroo’s name as he scrolls through his contacts, he finds himself searching for Hinata’s instead as he paces around the room.

Hinata picks up as soon as the second ring begins and before he can even say hi, Kenma immediately cuts in with, “I hope you aren’t having sex right now.”

There’s a beat of silence then Hinata laughs. “Nah, it’s too early for that. Anyways, what’s up?”

Kenma breathes in deeply. “I’ll get right to the chase. I...have a friend. And he has something of a problem.”

There’s a barely concealed huff of laughter from Hinata. “Okay. And what is your friend’s problem?”

Kenma closes his eyes and now wishes that he hadn’t led with the whole ‘I have a friend’ bit but he decides to just lean into it. “So, he broke up with his long-time boyfriend and ever since then, he hasn’t seen him in...say, four years.”

“Wow. Four years is a long time.”

“I know. Anyways, he meets this boyfriend - well, ex-boyfriend now - again for the first time in four years to sort of...pretend that they’re still together, because they’ve both been invited to this thing and he...well, maybe he doesn’t want to admit or face the fact that he and this ex are over. Do you get what I’m saying?”

There’s a pause and Kenma can picture Hinata slowly nodding along, connecting the dots. “Uh-huh. And then what?”

“Well, things get complicated at the thing. Long story short, feelings might have come to light and some...things might have happened.”

“As things tend to do. Go on.”

“But basically...he realizes that the both of them might still have feelings for each other but he can’t let go of the past that easily. He can’t forget about why their relationship ended in the first place and all the mistakes and pitfalls and fights that led to that. It’s not easy to just wipe the slate and start over, especially when they have to pretend to everyone else that the break up never happened. And then of course, there’s all the pretending, all the intimacy, acting like there isn’t this awkward tension between them. It’s...a lot.”

“Hm. I can see that.”

“And, uhh, of course, my friend...he feels bad that he has to do that to his friend’s thing. He knows it was a really special event for his friend and he had a good time, acting aside, but if his friend ever, I don’t know, held it against him for doing that at his thing...my friend’s still really sorry about it.”

Hinata laughs softly. “I’m sure your friend’s friend doesn’t hold it against him at all. There’s nothing to forgive.”

Kenma clears his throat. “Right. So, uhh, back to my friend. Now he’s kind of stuck because he does still feel the same way about his ex and his ex told him that all the acting he did, like pretending that he still loves him, wasn’t all just pretend and now he’s wondering if they should get back together. But is it really the right decision? After everything that happened? Like I said, it’s not easy to just wipe the slate clean and start over again. Those fears and mistakes from before are always going to be hanging over his head. He’s not sure if they’ll ever leave. And like, his ex feels the same way but he’s not exactly helping either. In fact, all the mixed signals are telling him that maybe getting back together isn’t really the best idea.”

Kenma pauses to catch his breath. “And, well...my friend thought he was just pretending before. Both him and his ex. But then, after the thing was over, he just...can’t stop thinking about his ex and how much he misses him. How much he doesn’t want to see him go just yet. How much he wants things to stay the way they are. But without the pretending part.”

When he’s finished speaking, it’s so silent that Kenma can almost hear Hinata breathing on the other line. He clears his throat and says, “So, uhh, yeah. That’s his problem. You got any advice I can tell him?”

“Hmm,” Hinata hums thoughtfully. “Sounds like a tough one. You sure your friend wants my advice?”

“Oh believe me, he needs all the advice that he can get.”

Hinata chuckles. “True. Well. I don’t really have anything else to say, except that it sounds like your friend wasn’t just pretending either.”

Kenma stops his pacing and looks down at the floor. “Yeah,” he says. “He wasn’t.”

“Then what is your friend waiting for?” Hinata says. “Another sign? Divine intervention? If he wants things to stay the way they are, then he just needs to go and do it himself. It’s as simple as that.”

“But一”

“Hey,” Hinata says, not harsh enough to be rude but with a stern enough tone that it makes Kenma immediately shut up. “The time you spend worrying about all the hypotheticals is just time that you’re not spending making sure that those hypotheticals don’t happen in the first place. Keep dwelling on those hypotheticals and you’re never going to stop. And then sometime in the future, you’re going to think to yourself, what if? And just how much are you going to regret it then?”

Kenma blinks, stunned into silence for once. “Wow.”

Hinata clears his throat. “Ah, I meant to address that to your friend, of course.”

Kenma chuckles and nods his head. “Yeah. You’re right. Thanks, Shouyo. I’ll make sure to tell him.”

He can hear the grin in Hinata’s voice when he says, “Wish him good luck. Oh and tell him to go and visit his friend sometime when he’s in town.”

“Gotcha. Bye.”

And just like that, Kenma’s mind is somehow magically made up and he wastes no time in messaging Yaku.

hey i need kuroo’s address.

ugh!!! finally!!!!!

???

about time one of you did something.

i swear me and kai did not go through all that trouble for nothing.

i. thank you for your service.

although you didn’t have to be so nosy.

we’re your friends, remember?

it’s our job to be nosy.

anyways, here’s his address.

Kenma doesn’t realize that he’s tapping his foot impatiently on the ground as he waits for Yaku to finish typing until he gets the address and he stops doing it. He skims right through the whole thing and spends a minute mapping out a route before he runs to his bedroom to grab a hoodie and a pair of pants. He’s almost to the door, shoving his keys and his wallet into his pockets, before he remembers to send Yaku a quick thank you. 

He gets a reply almost immediately.

go get him, tiger ;)

Kenma smiles, shoves his phone deep into his pants pocket, and is off, slamming his front door closed with a mad sort of fervor that surprises even him and racing off into the sunset, to do probably the stupidest yet smartest thing he’s ever going to do. 

****

Kenma really didn’t have a plan going into this. The only thought that is racing through his brain as he boards his train and stands there wringing his hands together in his hoodie’s front pocket as he waits for his stop, is going to see Kuroo. His apartment complex isn’t hard to find. It’s only one train ride away from the JVC and from Mari and her grandfather’s izakaya, further convincing Kenma that Kuroo’s drunkenness that night at the izakaya was nothing more than a thinly veiled excuse to go to his house. 

It’s one of those neat and relatively cheap apartment complexes, with off-white walls, a staircase running up through the side of the building, and hallways lined with identical brown doors and windows overlooking a small parking lot. This one looks fairly new, or at least the paint job makes it look like a recent fixture to the neighbourhood.

Kenma double-checks Yaku’s message as he ascends the stairs, making sure that he has the right floor and room number. And then, suddenly, he’s there, staring at the bright shiny number thirty-four on Kuroo’s front door and Kenma really wishes that he had thought of a plan or at least some things to say on the train ride here. He takes a deep breath and without a second’s hesitation left, rings the doorbell. 

There’s no answer. Not even the sound of someone shuffling around on the other side or footsteps walking over to answer the door. 

Kenma rings it a second time. Again, nothing. 

He presses the doorbell a third time, counts silently to ten, then sighs and walks over to the metal railing, leaning back against it as he glares at the door as if it had done him a serious wrong. 

It’s okay , he tells himself. Maybe he isn’t home . Maybe he’s asleep. Maybe, if you just wait a little longer, he’ll hear you and he’ll answer. 

But even as Kenma tries to reassure himself, tries to suppress the familiar creeping feeling of dread in his gut, another voice tells him that maybe Kuroo won’t answer at all. Maybe he is inside but doesn’t want to answer the door. Maybe he knows that it’s Kenma and doesn’t want to see him. Maybe this was a mistake.

And then suddenly, all the fear from before comes rushing back and hits him like a tidal wave threatening to drown him. This is exactly what he was afraid was going to happen. Why did he ever expect anything else? He expects Kuroo to be there, to hear him out, to invite him back into his life and accept him, but instead he’s standing all alone in front of a closed door in an unfamiliar apartment complex on a cold Saturday night, not even knowing what he’s going to do.

“Um, excuse me?”

Kenma snaps out of his thoughts and turns to face a frowning old woman poking her head out of room thirty-three next door. “Do you live here, young man?” she asks Kenma.

Kenma shakes his head. “Uh, no.”

“Well are you waiting for someone?”

“Um, kind of? Do you know Kuroo? He lives in apartment thirty-four?”

The woman’s frown deepens before realization dawns on her and her mouth falls open into a perfect O and she starts nodding along slowly. “Ahh, yes, yes, Kuroo-kun! Of course. Are you a friend of his?”

Kenma chuckles weakly and reaches up to scratch his arm. “Sure. Do you happen to know if he’s home?”

“Well actually, he just left a while ago.”

Kenma stares at her. “Left?”

“Yes, for dinner.”

Kenma opens his mouth then closes it again. “Oh,” he says intelligently. 

“Yes, he dropped by on his way out,” the old woman continues, now leaning even further out of her door. “Wanted to check and see how I was doing. He’s been doing that this whole week actually, after he heard that I tripped on the stairs a couple of days ago. Always asks about my flowers too, which reminds me that I was just about to go check on them myself when I saw you here. But Kuroo-kun’s a nice young man, though I do wish that he’d stop getting his dinners from that convenience store down the street, or from those fast food delivery places. I always offer to cook some real food for him sometime but he always declines and says some nonsense like he doesn’t want to trouble me. Do you suppose that you could invite him out sometime so he can get some proper food in him?”

Kenma’s not sure he absorbed everything that the woman said as his brain hones in on the bit about the convenience store. “Um, wait, so he’s...getting dinner at the convenience store right now?”

The old woman scowls at him. “Yes, I assume so. He was dressed quite poorly to be going anywhere nice.”

Kenma nods. “Oh. Do you know when he’ll be back?”

The old woman shakes her head. “No idea. If you plan to wait for him, it’s probably better for you to wait inside. The weather’s pretty cold tonight, isn’t it?”

“Oh, um.” Kenma laughs nervously and starts backing away towards the staircase. “No, I-I wouldn’t want to impose. Besides, I just...wanted to tell him something. But it’s okay. I can just text him or something.”

The old woman squints her eyes at him. “Are you quite sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Thank you.” Kenma turns and is about to take his first step down the stairs before he freezes, mouth hanging open. Standing at the foot of the stairs is none other than Kuroo, dressed in a T-shirt, jacket and sweatpants, plastic bag in his hand and returning Kenma’s surprised expression right back at him.

“Kenma?” he says incredulously.

Kenma swallows. “Kuro.”

For a long moment, Kuroo’s eyes remain on Kenma’s face, seeming to take in every detail, before he catches sight of something from over Kenma’s shoulder and he quickly looks down, embarrassment coloring his cheeks. He climbs up the stairs and Kenma quickly walks backward and out of the way, hiding his hands in his front pocket and looking down meekly.

“Ameyori-san,” Kuroo greets the old woman when he reaches the top of the steps. “How are you feeling?”

The old woman, Ameyori, glances between Kuroo and Kenma and it looks like something clicks in her head. “Just fine, thank you, Kuroo-kun,” she says with a small secretive smile that reminds Kenma chillingly of Kai’s. “You never told me you had such a cute friend.”

Kuroo blushes and laughs. “Yes, well, um. Ameyori-san, this is Kozume Kenma.”

“Um.” Kenma fidgets before he bows to Ameyori. “N-Nice to meet you.”

Ameyori hums. “You too.” She smiles at them one last time. “Have a good night, you two.”  Then she turns and closes the door behind her, leaving Kuroo and Kenma alone in the hallway. They look at each other only to avert their gazes the moment their eyes meet, as shy as if they were kids on their first date.

Kuroo scratches the back of his head with his free hand, eyes still not quite looking at Kenma. “Hey.”

“Hey,” Kenma replies.

“W-What are you doing here?” Kuroo asks as he finally gets the strength to look at him. “And how’d you get my address? I don’t remember giving it away. Unless it was while I was drunk.”

Kenma gives himself one last second to compose himself, one second to take a deep breath and steady the beating of his heart, before he looks up at Kuroo and says in a rush, “I wasn’t acting either.”

Kuroo blinks. “What?”

“Back then, all of that - it wasn’t just an act for me either.”

They stare at each other, Kuroo in stunned silence and Kenma completely serious and determined. And then, Kuroo smiles. It’s different from the one he gave him at his house, the one Kenma had thought was going to be his last glimpse of Kuroo’s face. It’s not sad or wistful or bittersweet. It’s wise and knowing and content and - it just is. 

And then, slowly, Kuroo begins to laugh. The corners of his lips perk up and he tries to hide his laughter at first, only for him to give up and let go. And then, Kenma starts to laugh too. It starts out small, barely more than half-hearted chuckles, before he starts to see the ridiculousness of the entire situation, the outrageous leaps and bounds his assumptions had gone through when Kuroo didn’t immediately answer his door, and Kenma can’t help but laugh along as well.

Kenma doesn’t know how it happens. It doesn’t make sense to him. But there, laughing with Kuroo right after he essentially confessed to him in the middle of a hallway where anyone could open their doors or look out their windows to see them, Kenma feels all his fears and anxieties melt away. It’s strange how one moment, he was nearly drowning in it, and then the next, he’s laughing as if none of that mattered. It’s like magic the way that happens, and it’s cheesy and embarrassing and every other word in human vocabulary that means cheesy and embarrassing. But Kenma wouldn’t have it any other way.

And then, once the laughter has died down, once the hilarity has worn off, they stand there, grinning goofily at each other, cheeks flushed from their laughter and hearts full of the same overwhelming emotion.

Kuroo clears his throat. “Do you...want to come inside? To my apartment, I mean.” He pauses. “We can order takeout. Watch a movie. Or do whatever you wanna do.”

Kenma smiles up at him and nods. “Sure. I’d like that.”

Kuroo smiles. “Great. I was hoping you’d say that.”

He walks over to his apartment door and rummages inside his other pants pocket for his key before unlocking it. “After you,” he says with a deep bow, standing aside to let Kenma in, and Kenma rolls his eyes although his smile doesn’t leave.

Kuroo switches the lights on and Kenma takes off his shoes at the genkan before he follows Kuroo inside. The place is surprisingly spacious, at least as far as one person apartments go. Past the genkan, there’s a living room with a couch, a TV and a dining table that seats three. A counter separates the living room from the kitchen area and there are two doors leading into what Kenma guesses are the bedroom and the bathroom respectively. 

The decoration is sparse and the furniture plain but it’s neat and it’s tidy and here and there, there are reminders that Kuroo lives here. Like the blanket hanging off the back of the couch, the pile of dishes that have accumulated in the sink that goes with the general clutter of the kitchen, and the labelled DVDs on the TV stand which look to be various volleyball matches, from the high school level to the V.League. All those little touches that make the place look homey and lived in.

“Sorry if it’s more cramped than you’re used to,” Kuroo says as he places his plastic bag on the dining table. “Also, excuse the mess.”

Kenma snorts. “What mess?”

“Well, I mean, I meant to clean up the kitchen a bit earlier but I got so caught up with work—“

“Yeah, sure. I like the place.”

Kuroo raises his eyebrows at him. “You do?”

“Well, I mean.” Kenma sits on the couch and looks around the room. “It’s better than your old one. You know, the one near Tokai?”

Kuroo rolls his eyes but grins. “How could I forget? You wouldn’t stop complaining about how tiny it was. Come on, this one is way bigger than that one, you have to admit.”

Kenma hums. “Well, it doesn’t have its own home theatre, but it’ll do.” He finds a bunch of takeout flyers and old menus tucked away under the TV stand and reaches out to leaf through them, stretching his legs out over the couch. “Are you gonna be ordering too cause I feel kind of awkward ordering just one meal for delivery.” 

He looks up to find Kuroo just standing there staring at him. “What are you staring at?”

Kuroo scoffs and nudges Kenma’s legs to make room. “Nothing, it’s just. Already making yourself at home, when we haven’t even figured out what we are yet.”

Kenma immediately feels more self-conscious. He tucks his legs close to his body and puts the takeout menus down on the couch between them. He tucks a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “Well, um, what do you want us to be, to start?”

Kuroo snorts. “What do I want? Kenma, I just want you. I thought I made that clear.”

“Right. But do you want me as your best friend, or maybe just a friend, or…?”

Kuroo purses his lips thoughtfully. “Look, I...I’m still not sure of all the details here. All I know for certain is that...I’ve wanted you ever since I lost you. You can ask Kai and Yaku. It’s kind of the reason why they found out.” He reaches out and places a hand over Kenma’s. “We can take it as slowly as you want. There’s no need to rush. As long as you’re with me, I’m good.”

He smiles, soft and honest, and Kenma doesn’t want to admit how much it makes his heart melt to see it. So instead he scoffs and pulls his hand away. “Gross,” he mutters.

Kuroo only laughs. “This is what you signed up for. You’ve already been with me before so you have no excuse.”

Kenma chuckles. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. And just for the record, I...missed this. I...missed you.”

Now Kuroo’s the one blushing like a little girl and looking away bashfully, trying to suppress his grin.

“Hey, don’t get all shy on me,” Kenma says. He picks up one of the takeout menus and shoves it into Kuroo’s hand. “I still need you to order pizza.”

There’s no hiding the grin on Kuroo’s face and it’s silly and it’s sappy and it’s probably the happiest Kenna’s ever seen him. “As you wish, Your Highness,” Kuroo says in some weird mock accent that he absolutely butchers before he bows to Kenma then gets up to grab his phone.

Kuroo still remembers his favorite pizza toppings and doesn’t need to ask Kenma for confirmation. When he’s done ordering, he goes to sit on the couch beside Kenma and there’s a moment of comfortable silence before he turns to look at Kenma with a serious expression on his face.

“I’m sorry for walking away,” he says. “After we came back to Sendai. I’m sorry for that last night at the hotel too. For, um, stopping you.”

Kenma studies his face carefully before he lets out a huff of air and shrugs. “It’s okay, really.”

Kuroo shakes his head. “No. You have to let me apologize for everything that I need to apologize for because god knows I didn’t do it enough before.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “I’ll admit, when I walked away, I didn’t realize how selfish it was until I was gone. Right after I apologized and...confessed all that too. I really wanted to go back. And I also wanted to continue what we were doing that night at the hotel. But I didn’t want us to do it while we were drunk. At the very least, I wanted to remember it. And I wanted to know, for certain, that you were enjoying it not because you were drunk, but because you were sober and actually...well, wanted me.”

Kenma feels his face flush a bit in embarrassment. “Well, for what it’s worth, I still enjoyed it. Even if we were drunk and even if we never finished.”

Kuroo chuckles. “And then when I walked away that day, I guess it was my last selfish act before I left your life forever. I thought...I just thought that when the whole thing was over,  you wouldn’t want to see me again.”

“Then you don’t know me as well as you thought you did.”

Kuroo blinks up at him before Kenma smiles and leans forward, bringing their faces closer. “It’s okay, Kuro.”

Kuroo’s parts his lips, still looking a bit uncertain. “Even if I mess it up again in the future? Even if I move too fast?”

Kenma huffs again, this one sounding more like a laugh. “Yes. Even then. We’ll take it slowly till it starts to feel the same again.”

“Right.” Kuroo nods and smiles. “Slowly. Whatever you want.”

After that, the rest comes easy. 

He lets him pick what movie they’re going to watch on Netflix and Kenma teases him about his taste in TV shows. Then Kuroo turns off the lights, turns the air conditioning up and offers Kenma the blanket on the couch while he sits cross-legged on the other side, convenience store bento perched precariously on his lap. About thirty minutes into the movie, their pizza arrives and Kenma sits up with the blanket around his shoulders, two boxes of pizza open on the space between them, eyes glued to the screen while they munch idly on their respective slices. 

Then, once all the trash has been cleared out and nothing remains of their meal, Kenma throws half of the blanket around Kuroo’s shoulders and tells him to scoot closer so they can both fit under it. Instead, Kuroo pulls Kenma towards him, till Kenma’s sitting in Kuroo’s lap, his back resting against his chest, and Kuroo wraps his arms around him and holds him there tightly, as if he’s afraid that Kenma would disappear. 

It’s soft and it’s cozy and it’s familiar and it’s tooch-achingly sweet. It’s all Kenma has ever wanted. 

At least until the movie ends and Kuroo buries his nose in Kenma’s hair and reluctantly tries to push him off. 

“Oh, sorry,” Kenma says as he stands. “Did your legs fall asleep?”

“Nah.” Kuroo massages his thighs through his sweatpants. “Although yes, they have fallen asleep. But it’s not that.”

“Oh?”

“You’re gonna miss your last train. You better go now just to be sure.”

Kenma blinks. “No,” he says simply.

Kuroo frowns. “No?” 

Kenma sits back down on the couch and faces Kuroo. “No. I don’t want to go home yet.”

Kuroo looks like he’s struggling to understand. “W-Wait, so...how are you gonna get home? Do you have enough for a taxi?”

Kenma rolls his eyes and sighs exasperatedly. “No, you idiot. I was thinking of spending the night.”

Kuroo is dumbstruck for a long moment. “Oh.”

“Um. That is, if you don’t mind一”

“Of course not!” Kuroo draws back and clears his throat. “I mean,” he says in a much calmer voice. “Of course I don’t mind. What kind of a host would I be to turn away a guest so late in the evening?”

“Thanks.” Kenma leans against Kuroo, resting his head on his shoulder. “Now put on another movie.”

Kuroo chuckles as he picks up the remote from where it had lain abandoned on the couch. “What do you wanna watch next?”

“Hmm,” Kenma hums as he watches Kuroo flip through the options on screen. “I don’t know. Something light. A comedy maybe? Nothing too dark or heavy.”

Kuroo picks another stereotypical romcom that Kenma’s pretty sure Kuroo’s seen a thousand times before, judging by the way he laughs at every incoming joke before the characters even get to tell them, but Kenma doesn’t mind it. He likes to feel the thrum of Kuroo’s chest when he laughs and he likes how he tries to not sound like a braying donkey when he hears a particularly funny joke but he can’t help himself in the end.

Halfway through the movie, Kenma ends up dozing off and he’s woken by Kuroo as the credits are rolling on the screen.

“Hey,” Kuroo greets him softly. “You fell asleep.”

“Oh.” Kenma yawns. “Yeah. Sorry.”

“It’s fine. Anyways, I was thinking of going to bed soon and I—“

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Kenma blurts out before he can stop himself. When Kuroo gives him a questioning look in return, Kenma smiles and waves a hand dismissively. “I’ll be fine. Just give me a better pillow and I’ll sleep like a baby.”

“You can take my bed,” Kuroo says. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“No, really, I’m good with the couch.”

“Kenma,” Kuroo says sternly. “I insist.”

Kenma sighs. “Okay. Fine.”

“Trust me, I’ve slept on that bed a thousand times. One night on the couch isn’t so bad.”

It’s exactly because you’ve slept on it a thousand times that I’m worried, Kenma thinks but he doesn’t say a word as Kuroo excuses himself to go tidy up his room as best as he can then returns a minute later with a pillow under his arm.

“All yours for the night.” He gestures to his bedroom door. “Just promise me you won’t go snooping around my stuff. Oh and don’t lock the door.”

“No promises,” Kenma says as he opens the door. He pauses in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, and turns to give Kuroo one last smile. “Good night.”

Kuroo returns his smile before he leans forward and plants a short and chaste kiss on his forehead. “Good night.” Then he turns his back on Kenma and walks over to the couch. 

Kenma closes the door and leans against it, sighing deeply before he lifts his head and takes in the sight of Kuroo’s room. The furniture is as plain as the rest of the apartment but the room has a more endearing messiness to it. Like the overflowing laundry basket at one corner of the room, the scattered pens and papers and stack of books on the desk at the corner, and the posters and pictures stuck to the wall at various places - on the wall above the desk, on the closet doors, even above the bed.

Kenma moves closer to look at them all, inspecting each one and trying to make sense of the haphazard fashion Kuroo stuck them in. There are photos from high school of him with Bokuto, Kai and Yaku; photos of him with his co-workers from the JVC, some holiday photos with his family, even a group photo of him with the Black Jackals and other V.League teams. But Kenma’s disappointed to find that there is not one photo of him on the wall.

He sighs and is just about to give up when a thought strikes him. He glances at the door before he pads over to the closet, making as little sound as possible. He opens one of the closet doors and prays that it doesn’t creak. It doesn’t, thankfully, and he’s met with the sight of the mess in Kuroo’s closet. Only the hung suits seem to be in order. Everything else looks like it was shoved into the closet in a hurry, which, Kenma reflects, could be the case. But there’s nothing on the other side of the closet door, just an empty space.

Kenma smiles bitterly and turns away before another impulsive part of him tells him to check the other door just for good measure. He’s not expecting to find anything there, so when he flips it open and sees all the photos, his heart leaps in his chest and his breath hitches in his throat.

All across a portion of the closet door are photos of Kenma, some that Kenma’s never even seen before. He recognizes a few from childhood and high school but here and there are more recent ones that he didn’t even know Kuroo had. There’s one of them in Kenma’s home, a casual selfie during one of their stay-in dates. There’s another one that he doesn’t remember Kuroo taking, of him hunched over his 3DS like a gremlin, eyes wide as he plays. And then, at the very bottom, are two photos taken just a week ago.

One is the photo they took in Aoba Castle, in front of the Date Masamune statue. And beside that one is a photo of Kenma alone. It’s from the reception, since he’s wearing his suit and his hair up. It’s him just sitting there, gazing off into what Kenma guesses to be the stage, a small smile on his face that seems almost wistful and nostalgic, and it’s so painfully candid and real. Kenma doesn’t even know how Kuroo managed to get away with this one but what’s most surprising is that he doesn’t even mind. In fact, he almost wants to ask Kuroo if he can send him this photo later so he can save it and maybe post it on his social media. But of course, that would mean admitting that he was snooping around his closet of all places.

Kenma closes the closet door and goes to turn off the lights. He tucks himself into the bed, puts his phone on the bedside table, closes his eyes and tells himself, this is fine. 

They can take things slow. In fact, they should be taking things slow at this stage. It’s been too long since Kenma’s been in a relationship and they need time to adjust, time to get used to each other again, to figure out where they’re going to go from here.

This is fine. Kenma turns over and buries his nose in the pillow. Even if the sheets do smell like Kuroo. Even if nothing but a wall separates them and he wants so badly to tear it down. Even if he’s literally lying in Kuroo’s bed after he offered to spend the night and seriously, how did Kuroo not pick up on that?

Kenma lies on his back and spends a long time staring up at the ceiling, wondering if this is really what he wants. And then he thinks, fuck it. 

He throws the comforter off of him and walks briskly towards the door. He pulls it open and is just about to walk out before Kuroo seems to materialize in front of him, making him jump for a second.

Kuroo breathes in. “Kenma, I—“

Kenma doesn’t even let him finish. He reaches up, grabs Kuroo’s face in his hands and pulls him down for a long kiss. They’re both panting when they separate and Kenma stares right into his eyes and says, “I don’t want to take it slow.”

“Me neither,” Kuroo says huskily before he captures Kenma’s lips again and pushes him back into the room, slamming the door shut as he goes.

Their kiss is rough, made mostly of teeth and desperation, but they don’t stop as Kuroo pushes Kenma back towards the bed. Kenma’s hands slip underneath Kuroo’s shirt, trailing his fingers over his stomach and his chest, and Kuroo lets out a low groan.  

The back of Kenma’s knees hit the edge of the bed and he teeters for a bit before managing to maintain his balance. Kuroo’s lips travel from the corner of his mouth down to his jaw before moving even lower towards his neck, nipping lightly at the flesh there. Kenma squirms in Kuroo’s arms. “Don’t mark it,” he hisses and he hates how breathless he sounds but he loves the way Kuroo seems to growl in response.

Kuroo grabs the bottom of Kenma’s shirt and lifts it before Kenma lays a firm hand over his and forces his chin to look at him. Kuroo looks at him in bewilderment. 

“Promise me you won’t flake out this time,” Kenma says.

Kuroo blinks then chuckles. “Promise,” he says softly before he’s kissing Kenma again. His tongue slides over Kenma’s lips and Kenma parts his mouth with a moan. Kenma’s hand travels downward and cups Kuroo’s half-hard dick through his pants. Kuroo moans and bucks his hips reflexively into the touch as Kenma keeps kneading him, till he can feel Kuroo’s dick grow harder, tenting the fabric of Kuroo’s pants. Kenma slips his hands beneath the waistband, going right past his boxers, and grasps his dick fully in his hand. Kuroo pulls away abruptly. “ Fuck ,” he pants, pressing his forehead against Kenma’s. “Kenma,” he whines.

Kenma watches his face carefully as he drags his hand over the shaft before rubbing his thumb against the slit at the head, already leaking pre-cum. He smears the pre-cum over the length as he starts stroking up and down, building up a steady rhythm as he goes, Kuroo’s breath getting heavier in the air between their mouths.

“ Haa - Kenma,” he breathes, hands coming up to cup Kenma’s face before pulling him in for a kiss. His eyes hone in on Kenma’s face, dark and hazy with lust. “God, I can’t believe this is real.”

Kenma twists his hand and quickens his pace, causing Kuroo to moan louder and roll his hips up into his fist. “It’s real,” Kenma says before he squeezes Kuroo’s dick then slowly pulls his hand away. 

Immediately, Kuroo makes a small disappointed noise before Kenma gingerly extracts himself from Kuroo to pull Kuroo’s sweatpants down. Kuroo steps out of them before he watches Kenma sink down to his knees and palm him through his underwear, eyes still locked onto Kuroo’s. Kenma presses a chaste kiss on the head through the wet fabric and he licks his lips in anticipation at the way Kuroo’s dick strains through the boxers. Kuroo’s hand threads itself into Kenma’s hair and holds on to it tightly, making Kenma groan.

“Is that okay?” Kuroo asks.

A nod is the only answer and warning Kenma gives him before he pulls Kuroo’s underwear down in one swift motion and puts his lips around the head of Kuroo’s cock. Kuroo moans and nearly thrusts his entire dick into Kenma’s mouth though he seems to hold himself back at the last minute. Kenma relishes the little sounds Kuroo makes as he starts to bob his head, taking in as much of Kuroo’s dick as he can, gliding his tongue around the head and pressing gently against the slit. He wraps his hand around the base of Kuroo’s cock and strokes the parts his mouth can’t reach, alternating between stroking and bobbing his head.

“ Fuck ,” Kuroo curses breathlessly. “God, Kenma.”

This time, Kenma hums as he swirls his tongue around Kuroo and the vibrations make Kuroo actually thrust into his mouth this time, enough to nearly choke him. 

“Shit, you okay?” Kuroo asks, momentarily forgetting how turned on he is and actually sounding worried, and Kenma almost wants to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. But he blinks away the tears from his eyes and continues his movements and after a while, Kuroo melts into it. His fingers curl around the strands of Kenma’s hair as he starts to push and pull on his head, starting to direct his movements.

But Kenma likes the way Kuroo pulls on his hair and he likes the added bit of force he puts into it. He likes how noisy Kuroo is, how he curses freely and says Kenma’s name as often as he can. He likes the way his name sounds when Kuroo’s like this - hot and breathless and sounding every bit as wrecked as he looks.

Kenma’s own neglected dick twitches in his pants and he reaches down with his free hand to rub his clothed cock. He moans around Kuroo’s dick just as he feels Kuroo begin to tense, his thighs trembling a little as he pulls on Kenma’s hair more urgently.

“ Ah 一 Kenma, I’m so close一”

And then with one last flick of his tongue over the head, Kenma pulls away from Kuroo’s dick, removing his lips and his hand from around it. Kuroo’s dick throbs at the loss of contact and Kuroo himself unsuccessfully bites back a groan as he watches Kenma lick his lips and grab a hold of the bottom of Kuroo’s shirt. Kenma stands and pulls Kuroo’s shirt up and over his head, throwing it aside before he throws his arms around Kuroo’s neck and meets him for another hot kiss. 

“What do you want?” Kuroo asks in a husky voice, breaking away to catch his breath, hands coming down to squeeze Kenma’s ass. “I’ll do whatever you want to do.”

Kenma tilts his head. “Anything?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo says and licks his lips. “Anything.”

Now that they’re here, Kenma starts to feel shy just saying it. His cheeks turn an even deeper shade of red and he looks away, pursing his lips together.

“What?” Kuroo asks. He places his palm against Kenma’s cheek and gently turns his face towards him. “It’s okay. You can say whatever you want. I won’t judge.” He pauses. “Well, unless it’s something I really don’t want to do, in which case一”

“Um,” Kenma interrupts. “I, uh. There is something I really want.”

“Well?” The way Kuroo runs his hands down his sides is distracting him and he shivers, inhaling sharply. “You going shy on me now, after you literally just sucked my dick?” Kuroo says teasingly and Kenma slaps him weakly on the arm.

“I...want you to fuck me,” Kenma says in a voice barely above a whisper. “The way you always used to.”

Kuroo stands speechless for a long moment before he throws his arms around Kenma and hugs him tightly, burying his face in Kenma’s hair.

“K-Kuro?” Kenma stutters.

“ God .” Kuroo’s voice comes out all choked, like he’s trying not to come right then and there. “ Fuck, you are so hot.”

Kenma can feel Kuroo’s dick poking his inner thigh and he resists the urge to grind his hips downward to meet it. “Um, thanks?”

He barely has the time to construct a new sentence before Kuroo kisses him with a newfound gusto. This kiss burns with want and when Kuroo slides his tongue into Kenma’s mouth, it’s eager and hungry, seeking out as much heat as it can get. Kenma gasps when Kuroo pulls away and when he sees the way Kuroo looks at him with hooded eyes, he feels his whole body tremble against his will.

“You want me to fuck you?” Kuroo says and his voice has gone low and sultry, gruff and husky.

“Yes,” Kenma sighs before Kuroo kisses the breath out of him again. Kuroo reaches his hands beneath Kenma’s hoodie, pushing it upwards till they break off their kiss to allow Kuroo to pull it off. He gets rid of Kenma’s shirt and pants in the same manner and more quickly this time before he latches his mouth onto Kenma’s neck and sucks lightly. 

Kenma squirms. “Kuro,” he whines.

Kuroo chuckles, his hot breath ghosting over Kenma’s skin, before he lifts his head to look at him. “Lie down,” he says, voice firm and commanding.

Kenma immediately acquiesces, sitting down at the edge of the bed before he lies down on his back. Kuroo crawls over him, eyes roaming up and down his half naked form hungrily. Kenma shivers beneath his gaze and looks away. “You gonna keep looking or are you actually gonna do something?” he says, more to keep himself distracted from how giddy it makes him to see Kuroo hover over him like this.

Kuroo chuckles and pecks him once more on the lips. “Just admiring the view.” He cups Kenma’s cheek with a hand before it travels down from his neck, brushing his shoulder and his collarbone before arriving at Kenma’s chest. He pinches Kenma’s nipple between his fingers and Kenma’s breath hitches. “Thinking about how lucky I am to get to see it,” he adds.

“Gross,” Kenma mutters right before a gasp is ripped out of his throat as Kuroo’s mouth closes around his nipple while his fingers continue to toy with the other. Kenma knows that Kuroo knows that he’s always been sensitive there and his head starts to go fuzzy, thoughts tipping sideways and over in his head as his mind can focus on nothing but the wet heat of Kuroo’s tongue as he swirls it around his nipple and Kuroo’s fingers as he pinches his other nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

Then, slowly, that hand slides downwards, hovering briefly over Kenma’s stomach before it starts to caress his thighs with tantalizing feather-light touches. Kenma spreads his thighs open, wanting to bring attention to the aching outline of his cock against his boxers, but Kuroo either doesn’t get the message or chooses to ignore it, mouth still occupied with Kenma’s nipple and one hand rubbing against the inside of his thigh.

“Kuro,” Kenma pleads, biting down on his lower lip a second later to suppress a deep moan as Kuroo switches his mouth over to the other nipple. “Quit teasing already.”

Kuroo lifts his head and gives him that sly grin, the one that always made anyone he looked at (provided that they didn’t know him well enough) melt like ice in his hands. “So impatient.”

“Only ‘cause一” Kenma pants. “Only ‘cause you’re so slow. Didn’t I say I didn’t wanna take it slow?”

Kuroo smiles slyly. “I heard you.” He draws back and pulls Kenma’s boxers off before he wraps his fingers around Kenma’s dick and starts to pump.

The moan that escapes Kenma then is so embarrassingly loud and wanton that he covers his mouth with his hand, face flushing even redder with embarrassment. But Kuroo takes his hand and pulls it away from his mouth. “No,” he says as he starts to stroke slowly up and down Kenma’s cock with his other hand. “I want to hear you.”

Kenma shivers as every stroke, every hot touch of Kuroo’s hand on his body, sends waves of pleasure through him the likes of which he hasn’t felt in a long time. Kenma is, quite frankly, the least sexually active person he knows and the few times when he does feel aroused, he gets it over with by himself rather quickly, more to just get rid of the urge than for any real pleasure. 

But now, with Kuroo, it’s different. Kenma feels every touch like electricity through his veins, so delicate and sensitive. Every kiss, every slide of his tongue, is enough to send Kenma closer and closer to the edge. It’s simply gratifying the difference it makes, having Kuroo there to do it for him. He doesn’t even need to do much and Kenma’s sure he can come right then and there.

But he doesn’t want it to end so soon, and certainly not before Kuroo’s even penetrated him. It embarrasses him just thinking of that word but there’s no other way to describe how he wants it. He never really realized how much he missed this part of being with Kuroo, of having his mouth and his hands all over his body, of being pinned underneath him and being pleasured in ways only Kuroo could do best. 

For one thing, he’s never had a handjob as good as Kuroo’s before. Maybe that’s because he’s never had a handjob from anyone else but Kuroo before but Kenma doesn’t stress the small details, not while Kuroo is giving him one of the said handjobs. It’s unfair how well Kuroo knows his body, how he knows the right rhythm to set and the right time to twist his hand to have Kenma keening underneath him, sweet little ah s and desperate little pleas escaping his lips so easily. 

Before long, he’s panting heavily, back arching slightly off the bed as he feels the heat in his belly tighten, feels every stroke and squeeze bring him closer to his release. He feels Kuroo’s gaze like a searchlight trained directly over him and he wants to just grab his face and kiss him. Then, Kuroo rubs his thumb over the head of Kenma’s dick one last time before he removes his hand. 

Kenma lies there, trying to catch his breath, coming down from his high as Kuroo gets up and walks over to his bedside cabinet, returning moments later with a bottle of lube and a condom in his hand. He kneels on the bed in front of Kenma, pouring a generous amount of lube over his fingers, before he catches Kenma’s eye. “Have you done this, with yourself or with anyone, recently?” he asks.

Kenma blinks, taking a moment to think about the question seriously before he shakes his head. Kuroo frowns. “Really?”

Kenma sighs as he pushes himself up on his elbows. “I was only ever interested in this stuff because of you. You’re the only thing that makes it feel good.”

Kuroo blinks before his face reddens and he turns away. “Wow, uh.” He coughs. “Thanks? I’m very flattered, really. Didn’t know my dick had that much of an effect on people.”

“Ugh.” Kenma flops back down onto the bed in resignation. “I knew you were gonna make it gross.”

“Hey, it was already gross when you said it,” Kuroo says with a devious grin as he crawls over Kenma, face hovering right over his. “Plus, we’re both naked on a bed and we’ve literally just touched each other’s dicks. Can’t get any grosser than that.” He kisses him deeply and everything else leaves Kenma’s mind, all other thoughts evaporating like air as Kuroo’s tongue glides over his and licks the inside of his cheek.

His skin tingles where it meets Kuroo’s and he feels like his heart might burst right out of his chest. He gasps when Kuroo bites down on his lower lip but he doesn’t protest it. Then he feels Kuroo’s finger circling his entrance and quite unconsciously, he spreads his thighs wider.

Kuroo is still kissing him when he finally presses his finger in slowly, tentatively. It’s almost tender and gentle, the way he does it, and although it hurts nonetheless, it soon starts to give way to pleasure the deeper it goes. Kenma’s not a stranger to fingering himself. He’s done it plenty of times before when just jerking off wasn’t enough, but there’s a huge difference between his fingers and Kuroo’s. Huge .

Kenma’s own slender fingers hardly feels like anything anymore when he does it himself but he feels the difference between his and Kuroo’s fingers immediately as soon as Kuroo is one joint deep inside him. Kuroo’s finger feels thick inside him and past the initial burn, it feels - good . Better than whatever Kenma would have achieved by himself.

As Kuroo spreads him open, working his finger in slowly and gently as he can, he litters Kenma’s thighs with nips and kisses, whispering soft words of praise and encouragement as Kenma clutches at the sheets beneath him, till Kuroo adds a second finger and Kenma gasps at the intrusion. “Kuro,” he whines impatiently.

Kuroo chuckles. “I know,” he replies, voice all low and husky. “Soon. In the meantime…” He twists his hand and just like that, Kenma starts to see stars as Kuroo’s fingers hit that sweet spot inside him. 

“ Ah !” He can’t help the way he cries out nor the way his hips seem to move on their own and buck down onto Kuroo’s fingers. “There, please一”

“There?” Kuroo presses against his prostate again and Kenma hisses sharply. “Yes! There, yes , please一”

Kuroo silences him with a kiss and Kenma melts against him just as he inserts a third finger in and starts thrusting into Kenma, hitting his prostate almost every time. Kenma doesn’t think he can last long like this, toes curling against the sheets, chanting Kuroo’s name over and over again.

Then, Kuroo pulls his fingers out and as soon as they’re gone, Kenma feels empty, his insides clenching around nothing. He pushes himself up on his elbows just in time to see Kuroo rolling the condom on over his cock and smearing it in lube. As soon as he’s done, Kenma obediently lies back down, legs spread wide and bent at the knees as he waits with bated breath. 

Kuroo takes Kenma’s ankles and places them up on his shoulders and oh - Kenma likes the way it looks, his legs raised like this, Kuroo bending over him as he lines his cock up to Kenma’s entrance. Just when Kenma thinks that he’s about to ease inside, Kuroo pauses and stares at him from above, the faintest smile playing across his lips.

“What?” Kenma dares to ask.

Kuroo scoffs softly. “Nothing, it’s just...This is real. You’re really here.”

Kenma isn’t sure where this is going but he nods slowly anyway. “Yes?”

Kuroo leans down to plant one last chaste kiss against Kenma’s lips. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this. You’re just the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he says, voice dripping with sincerity and sentimentality, before he pushes his dick into Kenma. 

Kenma gasps as he feels the head of Kuroo’s dick enter him. Already, it feels so much bigger and better than just his fingers and Kenma rolls his hips downward to meet it. But Kuroo takes it slowly, watching Kenma’s face for any trace of pain or discomfort, though all he must find is impatience.

Kuroo groans as he slides his dick the rest of the way in. “ Fuck, you’re so tight.” 

“And?” Kenma pants. “Are you gonna move or what?”

Kuroo smiles wolfishly before he does just as Kenma told him and moves. He pulls out halfway, stops for a second, then pounds into Kenma hard, making him cry out as it hits his prostate.

“Like that?” Kuroo grins before Kenma grabs the back of his neck and pulls him down for a kiss, if only to wipe the grin off his face.

“Yes,” Kenma says. “Like that.”

Kuroo sucks in a ragged breath as he pulls out again, dragging it out slow and deliberate before thrusting back inside. He starts up a steady rhythm, going slowly at first then gradually picking up the pace.

“God, you feel so good, Kenma,” Kuroo says as Kenma wraps his legs around Kuroo’s middle, his heels pushing lightly against Kuroo’s back, silently urging him to go faster, deeper. 

Each new thrust draws a new little sound out of Kenma, some he didn’t even know he could make and some he thinks sound humiliating, but he can’t bring himself to care right now. Not when Kuroo is fucking him for the first time in years and Kenma has started to go lightheaded. The only thing he can really concentrate on is the rising heat and pleasure every time Kuroo reaches that perfect spot just right. 

“Kuro, Kuro, ah!” Kenma tips his head back, rolling his hips downward to meet Kuroo’s thrusts halfway just as Kuroo goes faster, starts fucking him with an almost frantic sort of energy.

“God, fuck, Kenma,” he pants. “Kenma, I’m—“

He sees Kuroo tense up, feels him take his pace up to a relentless level, as Kenma arches his back and feels his own climax get closer and closer with every single movement.

Kuroo leans down and kisses Kenma long and hard. It’s clumsy and way off and nearly impossible to do without at least slowing down his pace but Kenma engraves it into his memory just like every single kiss before, feels his body react to it as if it’s the most perfect kiss in the world, and when they draw apart and Kuroo lays his head next to Kenma’s, Kenma turns his face till his mouth is next to Kuroo’s ear and breathes out, “ T-Tetsurou—“

The effect is instantaneous. Kuroo’s hips stutter before his whole body tenses up. He lets out a broken moan as he comes hot and swift inside of Kenma, chest heaving.

“Don’t stop,” Kenma whispers and Kuroo starts up the pace again, riding out his orgasm as he continues to thrust into Kenma, gasping as if every breath is his last. Then he wraps a hand around Kenma’s aching dick and starts to pump and that’s all it takes before Kenma’s crying out and coming over his stomach.

Kuroo stops moving and all but collapses on top of Kenma, held up only by his arms, just barely. Beneath him, Kenma is still reeling from his own climax, limbs limp and body going almost completely boneless as he pants to catch his breath.

Then, slowly, they both lift their heads at the same time to look at each other, both of their gazes still a bit hazy and unsteady, and twin smiles spread across their faces. Kuroo leans in to give him a proper kiss, long and sweet and right.

“Did you like that?” Kuroo asks.

Kenma scoffs. “Did I like it?” It’s probably the best sex I’ve ever had in years. “Yes, I did.”

“Call me by my first name one more time?”

“Maybe if you go and clean me up first, I’ll consider it. This is starting to feel less sexy and more gross by the second.”

Kuroo pulls out of Kenma and Kenma can feel the come stream out of him and onto the sheets. 

“Sorry,” he mutters, embarrassed.

Kuroo pecks him on the forehead. “Don’t be.” He gets up to put away the lube and grabs the box of tissues from his desk along with a towel from his closet.

Kuroo cleans them both up before he lies back down and Kenma snuggles up against him, resting his head on Kuroo’s chest, getting lulled to sleep by the steady motion of Kuroo’s breathing while Kuroo plays with his hair, massaging his scalp and twirling the strands around his finger.

“Hey,” he says softly. Kenma hums, eyes closed.

“I want to tell you this before you fall asleep.”

Kenma nods. “I’m listening.”

“I don’t want to mess this up,” Kuroo says. “And I’m not going to. This time around, I promise I’ll get it right.”

“Mhmm,” Kenma mumbles. “That’s kind of unrealistic, isn’t it?”

After Kuroo doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, Kenma continues, “I’m not asking you to never mess up. One way or another, we’re going to make mistakes, even when we try not to. So I won’t ask you to not mess this up.” He snuggles closer to Kuroo, till his face is buried in the crook of Kuroo’s neck. “I just want you to be there. I just want you to stay.”

Kuroo chuckles and nestles his chin on top of Kenma’s head. “Okay,” he says. “I’ll stay, as long as you will too.”

“I will,” Kenma answers immediately. “As long as you want me to. I’m gonna make it so hard for you to get rid of me.”

Kuroo laughs and closes his eyes. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

****

Kenma wakes up to an empty bed and too bright sunlight streaming in through the open curtains. His body aches in various places and he’s fairly sure it’s too early to be addressing any of that in the first place. He groans and turns over, trying to fall back asleep, but he hears noise coming from outside the room and the smell of something cooking reaches his nose.

He sits up and stretches, memories of last night returning to him slowly, and he grabs his hoodie from off the floor and puts it on. The door to Kuroo’s bedroom stands ajar and he can hear him humming as he works.

Kenma pads over to the door and pushes on it gently, trying not to make a sound as he listens to Kuroo’s voice. He smiles to himself before he schools his expression into something neutral and steps outside.

As soon as Kuroo hears the creak of the door, he leans over the counter, frying pan in hand, and grins. “Morning, sleepyhead.”

Kenma yawns. “Morning.”

He walks over to the dining table, already set with a plate and utensils for each of them. A steaming mug of coffee sits at his side of the table and Kenma takes a seat and sips it. 

“Added tons of sugar and creamer,” Kuroo says from over his shoulder. “Just how you like it.”

Kenma hums. “Could use a little less sugar,” he says.

“Noted,” Kuroo says. 

Kenma is just about to ask what he’s making before he smells the scent of cooking pancakes waft through the kitchen. He looks around the room and notices that the TV is on, volume set to low as the morning news plays. All the curtains on the windows have been pulled open, letting in as much sunlight as possible. It makes the room look larger and feel warmer than it is and although Kenma’s never been a morning person, he likes the atmosphere of it - watching the morning news idly with a cup of coffee while Kuroo cooks for them. 

Finally, Kuroo brings over a plate stacked with pancakes and a bottle of maple syrup. He sets them all down on the table before he grabs his own mug of coffee and takes his seat, eagerly grabbing his fork and already putting one pancake on Kenma’s plate.

Kenma sits there and stares at the whole ensemble - the stack of perfectly cooked pancakes that smell amazing, the quiet drone of the TV, the morning sunlight streaming softly in through the windows, and Kuroo sitting across from him, looking a bit worried when he doesn’t say anything.

“Sorry,” Kuroo mutters, leaning back against his seat and scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. “Is this too much?”

Kenma smiles reassuringly and shakes his head. “Not at all. Thanks for this.”

Kuroo smiles. “You’re welcome.” He takes one of the pancakes, drizzles a generous amount of maple syrup over it then digs in.

Kenma sits there for a long moment, watching Kuroo eat and feeling the warmth in his chest expand, even when he feels ridiculous for it. “Hey,” he says.

“Hm?” Kuroo hums through a mouthful of pancake.

“Move in with me.”

Kuroo stops chewing. He looks up at Kenma with wide eyes, fork still in his mouth. He swallows his food before he says, “Serious?”

Kenma nods. “Serious.”

Kuroo lets out a huff of laughter, disbelieving. “Well, I...Don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying no, but are you sure you’re not moving too fast?”

Kenma tilts his head. “Does it really feel too fast, or does it feel like we’ve waited for too long?”

Kuroo blinks before a smile spreads across his face, equal parts goofy and absolutely elated. “Yes,” he replies. “Okay. Yeah. Let’s move in together.”

Kenma smiles then finally digs into his pancake. Before long, they’ve finished the entire stack and nearly half of the syrup bottle and they’re taking their dishes to the kitchen to be washed. Kenma insists on washing the dishes himself but Kuroo sticks around the kitchen anyway, drying the washed dishes and putting them away.

When they’re done, Kenma claims the entire couch as his own, lying down right across it while Kuroo sits cross-legged on the floor, leaning back against the couch with his laptop in front of him. For a while, there’s nothing but the sound of Kuroo tapping on his keyboard and the distant noise of traffic outside.

Kenma turns his head to look at Kuroo, looks at how much of a mess his hair looks from this angle, at the faint signs of stubble on his chin, at the crease between his eyebrows as he concentrates on his work, at the folds that show on his forehead and the crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, at the curve of his ear and the smooth movement of his hands, committing everything to memory before he leans forward and says, “Hey.”

Kuroo startles a bit but doesn’t look at him, eyes glued to his computer screen. “Yeah?”

“I love you,” Kenma says simply before he returns to his phone. 

Kuroo doesn’t stop typing. Then, slowly, his fingers start to still until the sound of his typing ceases altogether. There’s a single beat of silence before Kuroo whips his head around to look at Kenma, eyes as wide as saucers, and yells, “Hah?!”

“I’m not repeating myself,” Kenma says, tapping away at his phone screen. 

“Kenma,” Kuroo says in near outrage, mouth still hanging open in disbelief. “Kenma!” he repeats one more time as he sets aside his laptop.

Kenma raises his brows at him. “Kuro,” he huffs.

“Kenma!” Kuroo throws his arms around him. Kenma splutters, nearly dropping his phone as Kuroo smothers him. 

“I love you too,” Kuroo says into his ear and Kenma smiles to himself. 

“I know.” He closes his eyes and they stay that way for some time, until Kenma complains about how heavy Kuroo is and Kuroo finally draws back, cheeks flushed and a grin spread all across his face.

“Stay?” Kuroo asks and Kenma knows he means for the day, for a couple more hours, maybe even for one more night. 

“I’ll stay,” Kenma replies, and he doesn’t just mean for the day, for another night, for now or for the meantime. He puts everything behind that word, every single meaning that he can put into it. For the entire week, for the month, for the year, for every single day in the foreseeable future for as long as Kuroo will have him.

Kuroo beams and his whole face lights up as brightly as the sun as he leans in to seal Kenma’s lips and Kenma can tell, as he closes his eyes and kisses him back, that Kuroo is promising the same thing.

-One Year Later-

“You’re up early,” Kuroo says by way of a good morning greeting, eyebrows raised in amusement, dressed in only a shirt and his boxers.

Kenma, in a similar state of dress, huffs from his place on the breakfast table, not even looking up from his Switch as Kuroo makes his way into the room, plopping down onto the empty seat across him. “It’s turnip day,” Kenma says simply.

Kuroo snorts. “Of course it is. Why else would you be up this early on a Sunday?”

He pauses, bleary eyes taking in the neatly arranged set of dishes laid out on the table in front of him. “And you made breakfast?” he says, unable to keep the smirk from his face as Kenma determinedly keeps his eyes on his Switch and refuses to look at him straight.

“Am I not allowed to do nice things for you every once in a while?”

“Aaw, babe, and you made mackerel. My favorite!” Kuroo says in a high mocking tone and mimes a swoon. Kenma rolls his eyes. 

“ Itadakimasu !” Kuroo claps his hands together before he picks up his chopsticks and the bowl of rice. He’s right in the middle of picking at the plate of fish when he freezes and narrows his eyes at Kenma. “You’re about to ask me for something, aren’t you? What is it? A new game? I know there’s one that just came out but I can’t remember what it’s called.”

Kenma scoffs. “I wasn’t planning on asking you for anything but if you insist—“

“Whoa, so what, this was all out of the goodness of your heart?” 

Kenma smiles and meets his eyes. “What can I say? I’ve always been this kind.”

Kuroo flicks a wad of rice at him and Kenma makes an indignant noise as he just barely dodges it. “Gross,” he says.

Kuroo stuffs his face with rice and fish and grins, his cheeks bursting with food. “Gesh you shuu it.”

Kenma gives him a look. “I’m sorry, I don’t speak that language. Could you please repeat that in Japanese?”

Kuroo lifts a finger, chews his food for a few seconds, then he swallows it and grins. “Get used to it. You’ll be stuck with me forever.”

Kenma rolls his eyes before he puts his Switch down on the table, utters a small “ itadakimasu ,” then digs into his own breakfast waiting on his side of the table. 

Kuroo glances between Kenma and his breakfast and smiles snidely. “Were you waiting up for me?”

Kenma shrugs, keeping his eyes on his food. “I wanted us to eat breakfast together. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? You’re always up early lately and I’m always up late. It’s nice having just this time for the both of us, even if it’s just for a while.”

Kuroo stares at him, long and silent, and Kenma ducks behind his hair quickly, embarrassed. Then Kuroo laughs, soft and warm and tender, and when Kenma looks up at him, his eyes are brimming with the same soft warmth, crinkling up at the corners as he smiles. “Didn’t know you could be this thoughtful, Kenma. Or this sappy.”

“Shut up.” Kenma kicks weakly at Kuroo’s legs under the table and Kuroo laughs as he scoots his chair away before digging back into his food. “It’s good,” he says after a considerable pause. 

Kenma stops with the chopsticks halfway to his open mouth. “What?”

“The food’s good.” Kuroo smiles. “You did well.”

Heat floods Kenma’s cheeks as he blinks rapidly and turns back to his food, managing to keep his voice level as he says, “I know. You didn’t have to tell me.”

“Oi. That was a compliment. I just complimented you.”

“So?”

“ So , where’s my thank you kiss? Where’s my ‘ooh Tetsurou you’re the best boyfriend in the world and I wanted to make you something special and not just because I want you to buy me things’?” 

Kenma makes a face. “Never mind. I take this back. Never doing anything nice for you again.”

“Oi!” Kuroo protests, almost slamming his chopsticks down on the table. “Kenmaaaa, I was joking!”

Kenma smiles over his bowl of rice. “Sometimes you just make it too easy to make fun of you.”

Kuroo scowls. “I don’t appreciate the condescension here. If you’re planning to actually ask me for something, you’re going to have to do it now before I change my mind.”

“Okay.” Kenma puts down his bowl of rice and turns to face Kuroo fully. “Shouyo and Kageyama’s first wedding anniversary. Or, should I say, Kageyama and Kageyama’s first wedding anniversary?”

“Oh, that’s right! That was yesterday, wasn’t it? Huh.” Kuroo chuckles. “Can’t believe it’s already been a year.”

Kenma nods. “I was thinking of going into town today to get them a present.”

Kuroo frowns. “Do people usually get their friends presents on their anniversaries?”

Kenma shrugs as he picks up his bowl and chopsticks again. “I just thought that it would be a nice gesture.”

“You’re just full of nice gestures today, aren’t you?”

Kenma reaches for a bit of the fish, pops it in his mouth, scrunches his face up in disdain, and swallows. “It’s the least I can do for Shouyo. Plus I did kind of forget his birthday months ago so I’m making up for it now. And, since it’s so close to December, if we get them a present now, we can just say it’s an early Christmas gift too and save us the trouble of getting them another one next month.”

Kuroo hums as he takes a spoonful of the miso soup. “Sometimes I can’t tell if you’re brilliant or just lazy.”

“Laziness breeds brilliance.”

Kuroo sips the miso, makes an interested face and reaches for more. “All right. I think I can spare a bit of money for it. But you’ll have to split with me if it’s something expensive. What are you thinking of getting them anyway?”

“Ah.” Kenma grimaces. “Didn’t actually think of that yet.”

“Seriously?” Kuroo scoffs. “Not even the slightest idea?”

“They’re both addicted to volleyball so probably something related to it?”

“What volleyball-related thing can you possibly get them that they don’t already have?”

Kenma pauses. “You’re right. But we’ll think of something when we go.”

“Hm,” Kuroo says through a mouthful of food. “I’m giving you till after you shower today to think of something.”

Kenma shoots him a look. “Only if you think of something too.”

“Deal. Then we compare notes before we leave. Sounds good?”

Kenma shrugs. “Sure.”

They lapse into a comfortable silence, both content to focus on their food, before Kuroo starts to chuckle softly and pauses in his eating.

Kenma frowns. “What’re you laughing about?”

“One year huh?” Kuroo smirks. “One year since you proposed that crazy plan of yours and we pretended to be together—“

“Okay, stop right there.” Kenma raises a hand. “I did not ask to be attacked like this on this fine morning.”

“What, but I was just getting to the best part!” Kuroo laughs, shoulders shaking with glee. “And then you admitted that you still love me, and—“

“Hey,” Kenma warns with narrowed eyes. “You were the one who admitted it first. Don’t go making up your own facts.”

“Yeah but who kissed me first?” Kuroo countered and leaned over the table as if for effect. “Who started drunkenly making out with me in front of all our friends? Who was it that—“

“Okay!” Kenma interrupts loudly, his face turning redder and redder. “I get it.” He shoves more food into his mouth, refusing to meet Kuroo’s eyes.

“Aaw, you’re no fun, Kenma!” Kuroo teases. “Don’t you wanna reminisce some more about how this all started?”

“No thank you,” Kenma says simply before taking a drink of water. “If you’re quite done, I’d like to take a shower now. Also for the record, the whole making out thing was supposed to be your dare.” He gathers up his dish and his glass before making his way to the kitchen, Kuroo still chuckling mildly behind him.

“After we go out today,” Kuroo says when he meets him in the kitchen a while later, bringing along his own plate, “what did you have planned?”

Kenma hums as he washes his plate, eyes glued to his task. “I have a stream scheduled early in the evening. Then I was going to film a lets play. Big finale so it’s gonna be a bit long. Then I’ll probably pass out from exhaustion after all that. Why do you ask?”

Kuroo blinks down at him before he looks away, hand coming up to scratch the back of his neck. “Well, shit. Sounds like your schedule’s packed for the day.” 

Kenma shrugs. “It’s nothing new. Weekends have always been busy for me, remember?” He finishes cleaning his plate then goes to put it away. “I take the shower first,” he calls over his shoulder.

“Kenma, wait.” Kuroo grabs his arm and pulls him back.

Kenma stops and looks at him in surprise. “What is it? Did you wanna go shower first?”

“It’s not that.” Kuroo chuckles weakly. “Shit. You know, I was hoping you’d be free tonight but I guess there’s no time like the present, right?” 

He sounds unusually serious and Kenma looks at him in alarm. “Kuro, is something—“

“It’s nothing bad!” Kuroo interjects. “I promise. Just...wait right here.”

Kuroo races back to their bedroom and Kenma stares after him in bewilderment. He can hear him thumping around, running about with hurried feet, closing and opening drawers before he hears the door close and Kuroo comes walking back into the living room with his hands behind his back.

Kenma raises an eyebrow. “What’ve you got—“

“Kenma,” Kuroo says, stopping directly in front of him. 

Kenma looks at him in confusion. “Kuro?”

“You know, ideally, after our day out shopping, we were going to come home and I would have offered to take you out for dinner. My treat. The fanciest restaurant we can get into without a reservation. I’d tell you to dress nice and I would too and then we’d go out and we’d have a good time. You’d call the restaurant pretentious but you’d order the most expensive thing you can find.”

Kenma chuckles and shrugs his shoulders.

“And I’d order some wine and I’d be at least two glasses in before I’d finally get the courage.” 

“Courage for what?”

Kuroo snorts. “Well, that’s what I would have wanted to happen, ideally, before you just told me that your entire night’s packed. But you know, I realized that it doesn’t really matter how or when it’s done. Just as long as I mean it.”

Kenma’s next words are slow and careful. He eyes the hands behind Kuroo’s back before he looks up to meet Kuroo’s eyes. “Mean what exactly?”

Kuroo takes in a deep breath and without another word, gets down on one knee. Kenma’s breath catches in his throat and he stands completely frozen as Kuroo smiles sheepishly and reveals a golden ring in a red velvet box that he presents to Kenma. 

“Kozume Kenma,” he says, his voice coming out breathless and exhilarated, maybe even a bit shaky. “World-famous youtuber slash professional gamer slash CEO slash stock trader Kozume Kenma. Will you marry me?”

Kenma doesn’t know exactly how long he just stands there staring at Kuroo before his tongue starts working again and he chokes out, “But-But we just got back together. I-I…”

Kuroo chuckles. “Does it really feel too soon or does it feel like we’ve been waiting our whole lives for this?”

And then a laugh bubbles out of Kenma’s mouth and he’s smiling so wide his cheeks are starting to ache but he’s also nodding his head like a madman. “Yes,” he says breathlessly. “Yes!” He gets right down on his own knees and throws his arms around Kuroo’s neck.

Kuroo laughs and embraces him back, box still clutched in his hand. When they finally pull back, they look at each other for a moment before they both grin and laugh uncontrollably. 

Kuroo takes the ring out of its box and slips it onto Kenma’s finger. It’s golden and simple, with four clear gems inlaid at symmetrical points around the band.

“I’ll be honest, I didn’t know your size,” Kuroo admits. “So I had to wing it. If it’s too tight or too loose, we can have it adjusted.”

“No,” Kenma says. “It’s fine.” He grabs Kuroo’s face in his hands and kisses him clumsily, still reeling from what just happened.

“So you’ll stay with me?” Kuroo murmurs when they pull apart, eyes brimming with emotion. “Be honest now because this is for forever.”

Kenma chuckles. “You don’t even need to ask.” He kisses Kuroo again, long and hard, as the bright morning sunlight streams in through the shoji doors and another day begins around them.

“We are so getting a cat,” Kuroo mutters when they pull away and they both laugh.

Time goes on in much the same way it always does.