Chapter Text
Maybe it’s the impending panic attack making his heart race or the oppressive heat he feels, but Kenma finds himself waking much earlier than he normally would, a tsunami of images from the night before inundating him with shame. He always becomes overheated when suffering a hangover, his sweat dampens his borrowed shirt and he feels plastered to the body beneath him. As if Kuroo hasn’t dealt with enough of Kenma’s bodily fluids, Kenma’s eyes open to observe the impressive pool that has collected on Kuroo’s chest of his own drool.
Kenma couldn’t feel any more disgusting.
He has to get up, get some coffee, and make some attempt at damage control. At the very least, talk to Shouyou and ensure that he still had a good night last night, and most of all, avoid Kuroo for as long as he can. Kenma groans, rubbing his cheek against Kuroo’s shoulder before attempting to lift his heavy head. The man beneath him is still soundly asleep but he stirs slightly when Kenma attempts to extract himself from his embrace. Unable to sit up, Kenma opts for trying to roll away from Kuroo, the room is still dark but Kenma can see the subtle fluttering of Kuroo’s eyelashes.
“M’Nma?” Kuroo slurs, rolling with him. God, he’s like a big magnet. Kenma freezes on his side, waiting for Kuroo to settle back into his slumber. Air leaves his lungs slowly as it seems Kuroo has fallen back asleep until a large hand travels up Kenma’s side.
“I have to get up, Kuro,” Kenma whispers despite being pretty positive he’s still asleep. Kuroo’s hand fumbles its way to Kenma’s neck, fingers clumsily burying in his hair.
Kenma’s just about to slip out of the sheets when Kuroo’s lips press to his forehead, his voice, heavy and gravelly with sleep, infuses his veins with ice instead of the usual fire when he mumbles, “Love you,” against Kenma’s forehead.
**
“I knew it! That’s great, Kenma,” Shouyou beams from across the table. Shouyou’s sunshine mingled with the sunshine streaming in through the cafe windows are putting on a concerted effort at ensuring that Kenma’s migraine sustains the entire morning.
“How is that great?” Kenma sighs. “He was half-asleep, he could’ve been dreaming and thought I was Jimin from BTS… or that cosmology guy with the deep voice.” He takes a long swing of his iced latte and wills it to give him the strength. “And even if he did intend it for me,” Kenma continues, “think of everything I’ve put him through! He should hate me.”
“Cosmology?” Shouyou repeats slowly. Crumbs fall onto the table as Shouyou takes a huge bite out of his croissant breakfast sandwich, some sticking to his chin. Kenma sighs heavily.
“Yeah I think Kuroo likes him for his extensive space knowledge and dreamy eyes,” Kenma shrugs.
Shouyou thinks too hard for a moment, his eyes burning holes in the table. A smile creeps up his face and Kenma’s eyes are already winding up to roll. “But he loves you because-”
“He. Does. not, ” Kenma hisses.
“Is it really so bad, Kenma? You gave him unlimited access to no-strings-attached, likely filthy sex for months, I think he’ll be all right,” Shouyou retorts.
“But, it’s not just sex is it? When he’s risking his friendship, his happiness. Sex can hardly be worth all that.”
Shouyou makes a face like he’s considering. “What Bokuto-san did was terrible. Maybe Kuroo-san doesn’t want to be his friend anymore. Maybe he thinks it’s worth it.” Shouyou shrugs. “Maybe he thinks you’re worth it.”
Cold sweat breaks out on the back of Kenma’s neck, he feels like hiding in his hoodie. Damn. How can Shouyou be such a ditz and drop shit like that out of the blue?
Of course, it’s easy to see it that way from the outside. And Shouyou is really the only one who knows what’s going on between him and Kuroo anyway. But even then, Kenma realizes he’s the only one who can really decide how this thing ends. Dragging Shouyou down with him is not what he ever intended. Still, the redhead seemed to be very tuned into what was happening long before Kenma was even close to understanding. Coming to the conclusion that he’s never going to reach the answer he wants by just agonizing over this, Kenma decides to just avoid it. Avoid, avoid, avoid.
Kuroo won’t even remember what he said. While he was asleep. Dreaming. About Neil DeGrasse Tyson and not Kenma, most likely.
Kenma takes a deep breath in and out. “I’m getting another scone,” he announces. Shouyou nods, chewing on the last of his breakfast sandwich.
Sighing, Kenma pushes out of his seat and makes his way over to the counter. It’s reaching midday so the cafe is starting to get another rush. After securing his place in line, Kenma pulls out his phone to avoid making any eye contact with someone who may know him from campus. He sifts through a few Twitch notifications and DMs before replying to a text from Kuroo letting him know that he’s going grocery shopping and asking if he needs anything. His fingers hover over the keypad as he chews on his lip. He’s overthinking grocery shopping now because Kuroo might be in love with him. Pushing a breath of air past his lips, Kenma types out a quick ‘no, thanks’ and sends it, exiting the window before his brain can dwell any further.
That’s when another text catches his eye…
From Akaashi Keiji. Asking him if they can meet today to talk.
The issue here is Kenma wants to be mad. He wants to ask Akaashi why he can’t keep his stupid bitch face out of his life since he already took his boyfriend. What more could he want? Sure, Kenma forgave Akaashi. Sure, he knows that Bokuto is the one at fault here. But, still Kenma’s so sick of being the bigger person.
“I can take the next customer.”
“Oh, uh…” Kenma steps up to the counter. “Just an apple cinnamon scone, please.”
“Anything else?”
Kenma shakes his head and taps his phone on the reader to pay, Akaashi’s text and an aborted reply lying dormant on the screen.
Why can’t he just leave him alone? Kenma stresses over it all the way back to where he and Shouyou are sitting. After swallowing the fiery ball of resentment that threatened to choke him the last time Akaashi accosted him—here, in this very cafe—Kenma doesn’t know if he has it in him to hear him out anymore. Especially after the humiliation that he endured the previous night at Tooru’s party.
Well, this is where Akaashi works. So, the first time was an unfortunate coincidence, it’s not like Akaashi was stalking Kenma. And here he is, a patron at Akaashi’s place of work again, like he wants to see his ex’s new boyfriend again. How pretty he is, poised, smart, and put together. Kenma should really revel in that at any opportunity.
“Uh, you still with me, Kenma?” Shouyou’s voice cuts through Kenma’s daze.
“Sorry… it’s just-” Kenma meets Shouyou’s concerned eyes. He was never easy to lie to. “-…Akaashi texted me, he… wants to talk.”
“Did he say what about?”
“I’m sure it has to do with that fight I had with his boyfriend last night,” Kenma sighs.
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Shouyou—sweet, loud, fearless Shouyou—looks down at the table where his fingers fidget with each other.
“No, I just… I’m sorry I ruined your night.” Kenma settles a hand over Shouyou’s.
Shouyou’s eyes fly open wide and he waves his hands between them. “No! No, don’t apologize. You have nothing to apologize for.”
Obviously, he’s right, and Kenma’s been trying to tell himself this for months now, Kuroo too, in his own way. “Still, this weekend was supposed to be about you, and I wanted you to have fun.”
“Of course I’m having fun. But I want my best friend to be okay,” Shouyou says.
Kenma bites his lip to keep from smiling too wide. How does Shouyou do this to him? “I’m okay. Really. As embarrassing as all that was, it was sort of therapeutic.” Kenma takes a deep breath before continuing, “And I think that it squashed any last thought of romanticizing him that I had. He’s not the person I was so hopelessly in love with.”
Shouyou nods. “I think you should talk to Akaashi-san. He looked pretty mad at Bokuto-san when you left. It might help to hear him out.”
Kenma pulls out his phone again, still open to the message screen and considers everything Shouyou said. He doesn’t hate Akaashi, he doesn’t want to burn any bridges he may have with him, either. Before he can second guess his decision, Kenma deletes the hastily written, anxiety-fueled rejection he had queued up and types out a simple invitation to meet him somewhere neutral later. Then, Kenma decides to change the subject, redirecting the conversation back to Shouyou’s night, and sits back to eat his scone and listen to all the filthy shenanigans he got up to with his roommate/arch-nemesis/fuck buddy after the party.
**
Kenma cranes his neck to see past the gaggle of athletes that are loitering in front of the library for some reason. He’s grateful Akaashi suggested they meet here because that meant there were plenty of witnesses, and a noise limit. Akaashi isn’t really known for yelling, no that’s not his attack of choice. But, Kenma is still so mortified of the night before that he’s willing to take every precaution. It’s possible that Akaashi could be furious with Kenma for causing a scene with his boyfriend. He knows how much Akaashi wanted Koutarou (the lengths he went to make that obvious), so he imagines he’d be hellbent on keeping him now that he’s managed to pluck him right from beneath Kenma’s nose.
“Chill out, you’re getting petty again, Kenma,” he mutters under his breath as he finally finds an opening and squeezes between the group of gawking oversized university athletes. He scans his student ID at the turnstile and proceeds to the floor they agreed to meet on. It seems that Akaashi had been studying here all afternoon at least as he managed to occupy one of the library’s most coveted tables and cover it almost entirely with textbooks and notes.
Akaashi looks up as Kenma approaches and offers a small smile before shifting some of his papers aside. “Kenma. Hi. Thanks for coming here.”
Kenma nods, taking the seat that Akaashi just cleared for him. “Yeah. Look, I know this is about last night and I just want to beat you to the punch and say I’m sorry,” Kenma babbles, looking down at Akaashi’s Literature of the Tokugawa textbook.
“Kenma… what on Earth do you have to apologize for?”
Kenma meets Akaashi’s eyes and notices the dark rings around them, they’re puffy and his hair is sticking up in all directions like he hasn’t slept. He’s still beautiful, though. His striking blue eyes swimming with concern and sorrow. Kenma scans the library table again. Is this how Akaashi copes with stress–forgo sleep and head straight to the library to study?
Kenma sits with his mouth hanging open for a solid few moments, trying to calculate where he was going with this apology. What does he have to apologize for? “I guess… I caused a scene last night and I’m sure your night was ruined. You look awful, by the way.”
Akaashi blinks, slightly taken aback but not at all offended by Kenma’s comment. He takes a deep breath before saying, “I wish that Bokuto wasn’t being so childish right now. I wish I didn’t feel like I have to keep apologizing for him.”
“I wish I knew what the fuck his problem is, “ Kenma spits. “Does he hate me so much? Was cheating not enough?”
Akaashi doesn’t flinch. Sitting with his shoulders straight and his chin poise like he’s expecting a candid photo to be taken. Kenma knows he’s affected, so why is he being so stoic? “He won’t admit it but he feels guilty. He didn’t want- he didn’t want me to leave him if I knew you were still together. And I don’t think he realizes that he’ll never get over you if he doesn’t face what he’s done. But none of this would have happened if he were just honest from the beginning. Instead he’s buried himself deep into a situation where everybody involved has to get hurt, with a few casualties on the side as well.”
The casualties must include Kuroo, who was torn between his best friend and the guy he liked for… Kenma doesn’t even know how long now. And somehow Kenma’s reached a point where he doesn’t even care what Bokuto says or does to him, but for Kuroo he feels a sense of protectiveness that he never felt for himself. All because Kuroo was the only one there to catch him when Bokuto let him fall. Kenma feels a small piece of himself fall into place at that moment. He’s so caught up in trying to figure out what it is that he almost misses what Akaashi was implying with his speech.
“So… you left?” Kenma says.
Akaashi looks on the verge of tears. Kenma can’t help but feel for him, Bokuto’s impact is a lasting one, and Kenma can tell that Akaashi really loves him because how else would anyone have the patience for sticking by Bokuto for as long as he has?
**
When Kuroo comes home, the light is a brilliant orange sitting low across the floor in the living room, fading fast while Kenma tries to cook something in the kitchen with what little ingredients he has. He sighs heavily as he kicks off his shoes and Kenma thinks he is going to head straight to his room when he hears footsteps enter the kitchen and stop behind him.
“Kenma.” Kuroo is leaning against the counter with arms crossed across from where Kenma is tossing some vegetables into a pan. Kenma swallows thickly and tries not to look startled by his presence. It’s stupid to be so apprehensive in his presence. Kenma doesn’t know how to talk to him even though he decided that what Kuroo said this morning was a fluke.
They lock eyes and Kenma drops his gaze. Staring at Kuroo’s collarbones, he deflects. “The cafe had those apple cinnamon scones…” Kenma bites his lip after he trails off. Stupid. When he ventures a glance back up at Kuroo’s face, a smile threatens his stony features for a fleeting moment.
“My phone has been blowing up all day,” Kuroo sighs like a disappointed dad. A shiver runs down Kenma’s spine. He wants to apologize, he awaits his punishment. “Why are people blowing up my fucking phone with shit about your ex boyfriend?”
“Kuro, you know I never wanted-”
Kuroo drops his head, runs his fingers through his hair. “I’m just fucking sick of this, Kenma.”
“I know, I’m sorry.”
“See? Kenma, that’s what I’m fucking talking about!” Kuroo stands up straight, intimidating. Kenma’s arms lose feeling. Kuroo’s mad. Actually fucking angry. “Stop making excuses for him! Stop taking the fucking blame. I feel like I’m losing my mind,” Kuroo growls in frustration, hands tensed in front of his chest like he has Bokuto’s neck between them right now.
“Kuro, he’s your best friend. Just because we,” Kenma swallows, tugs at his hair, and turns off the stove. He’s not hungry anymore, “Just because we started… sleeping together doesn’t mean you have to take my side.”
There’s an agonizing moment where Kuroo freezes, mouth open in shock. Kenma would think he’s completely malfunctioned if not for the slow blink he does a few times before inhaling deeply and squeezing his fists into tight balls, his knuckles going white. “I just want,” Kuroo begins, eerily calm, “to escape this fucking presence of Bokuto that hangs over us, Kenma, us. I don’t give a- FUCK about Bokuto right now.” Kuroo closes the small space of the kitchen that remains between them and cups a hand under Kenma’s jaw, long fingers squishing the fat of Kenma’s cheeks.
Kenma tries to hide the way he jumps at the way Kuroo’s voice rises at the end of his rant. He tries not to think too hard about what Kuroo is saying, how it brings what he said this morning to the forefront. How Kuroo is not backing down now, not letting Kenma evade what’s been building between them for these past few months any longer. Fuck. Heat pools low in his stomach. Kenma takes a deep breath and makes a decision that he won’t evade it any longer. “You’re… actually mad,” Kenma scoffs. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
Darkness flashes across Kuroo’s eyes. He’d been holding back, but fractions of this side of Kuroo have pushed through before. Kenma has felt what Kuroo’s been denying him of only in small doses and he… wants more. He’s surprised to realize that he doesn’t want Kuroo to hold back anymore. If what he’s been experiencing in the past few months is Kuroo holding back , Kenma wants to feel his intentions full force. He actually does. It’s terrifying. It’s hot–as fuck.
Kenma wants Kuroo to possess him, this time to erase Bokuto’s presence from Kuroo’s conscience for good. Kenma’s past relationship has been haunting them for long enough. And Kenma doesn’t want to belong to Bokuto anymore. He flushes under Kuroo’s gaze and he feels his cock begin to swell up in his sweatpants. He wants–no, he needs Kuroo to touch him now. His mind swims with it. With Kuroo’s hand gripping firmly onto his face, not allowing him to break eye contact, his height overwhelmingly imposing at this moment, Kenma’s mind turns into a soft static.
“I am mad,” Kuroo breathes. “Mad I let him have you. You should’ve been mine.”
Kenma shivers at that word– Mine– before Kuroo’s lips crash into his. A whimper leaves his lips as Kuroo’s hand slides down to grip Kenma’s throat with bruising force, fingers pushing into the sides to restrict Kenma’s breathing slightly. He was already lightheaded.
Kuroo’s lips are possessive over Kenma’s; his tongue, forceful, claiming Kenma’s mouth and causing his knees to buckle further. Kenma’s practically being held up by Kuroo’s hand on his throat alone. Kuroo lets them sink to the floor slowly as Kenma’s shirt is tugged off, followed by Kuroo’s. The tile is cold against Kenma’s back but Kuroo’s mouth is hot on his skin, teeth biting sharply into the sensitive skin on his neck while long fingers pinch and pluck at Kenma’s hard nipples. Kuroo gets Kenma hard and leaking for his touch expertly, like they’ve done this hundreds of times. At this point, Kenma supposes, they nearly have. Kenma has a fleeting thought that maybe talking to Kuroo and not just fucking at any minor inconvenience is something that he should try soon. But not today. Not when Kuroo’s tongue is fucking his mouth and Kuroo’s hands pushing past the waistband of his pants to ghost over his leaking cock.
Kenma whines at the teasing touch as Kuroo ignores his aching cock to pull off Kenma’s pants and underwear. “Gonna eat you out, baby.” Kuroo’s voice is low. It sounds like a command more than an offer, giving Kenma no room to complain or whine that he’s too hard already to be teased like this.
“Kuro, ngh!” The tile digs into Kenma’s spine but Kuroo has his knees pressed against his chest and Kenma’s hole exposed to the cool air. Hot breath hits the tight muscle before Kuroo’s tongue laps at it indulgently. Kenma shivers against Kuroo’s mouth as he closes his lips around Kenma’s entrance and hums before pushing past the ring of muscle with his tongue. “Ah… fuck!”
Tears spring to the corner of Kenma’s eyes as Kuroo fucks Kenma’s ass with his tongue, his fingers flex against the tile with nothing to grip onto. Arms flying between his longs, Kenma’s fingers finally find purchase in Kuroo’s hair, twisting and pulling, causing Kuroo to moan louder against Kenma’s asshole, acting like Kenma is his favorite meal, becoming more enthusiastic, more torturous the harder Kenma pulls on his locks. Kuroo’s tongue fucks in, out, then Kuroo wraps his lips around the puckered hole and sucks , causing Kenma’s legs to jolt against Kuroo’s hands that hold his thighs firmly against his chest. Kenma kicks the bottom half of his legs pathetically.
“Kuroo, please–” Kenma pants, his hole winking when Kuroo pulls back from it, “wanna cum, please, I’m gonna– Tetsu let me cum.”
“Damn,” Kuroo sighs. Kenma’s heart sinks as he see Kuroo sit up. Kuroo’s hands slide down his thighs to grip the fat of Kenma’s ass cheeks, kneading them and spreading them apart. If Kenma concentrates, he could probably cum from this. But Kuroo’s voice has him distracted. “You are fucking easy. Were you this easy for him?”
Kenma knows that this is a test. The truth is, being with Bokuto was easy, amazing, sensational, all those things. But being with Kuroo… something about him is just so much– too much– more.
Smack! Kuroo’s large palm makes contact with Kenma’s ass. Kenma’s mouth drops open. He was panting before, now he’s shaking and drooling like a damn dog. “N-no,” Kenma squeaks.
Kuroo smirks down at him, hands leaving Kenma’s thighs to slowly unbutton his pants. Kenma bites his lip to keep from whining at Kuroo to hurry up. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
Kenma shakes his head. “I don’t- ah!”
Another smack lands to his ass before Kuroo pushes his pants and underwear down to his knees and starts stroking his long cock. “Don’t piss me off more, Kitten.”
Kenma nearly cries. Kuroo’s spit has dried on his hole and there’s no lube in this room but Kenma wants Kuroo so badly. He wants him to fuck him dry right here and now. He wants to feel Kuroo for days.
“Kuroo…” Kenma whispers and Kuroo’s eyes soften for a moment as he situates himself between Kenma’s legs, draping himself over Kenma’s frame to lavish him in kisses again.
“What do you want, baby?”
“I want you, I want-”
“Say you’re mine.”
Kenma almost chokes on his spit trying to give Kuroo what he wants. “I’m yours! I’m yours, Kuro, please ! Make me yours.”
They share another deep kiss that Kuroo smiles into smugly, fingers teasing Kenma’s hole again. “Just let me-”
“No!” Kenma’s fingers dig into Kuroo’s biceps to keep him from pulling away. “Just use spit, I’ll be fine. Please, Kuro, I swear- Fuck! Yes,” Kenma babbles on as Kuroo slips his first finger in dry. The burn is overwhelming, Kenma can’t help but writhe against Kuroo’s hands.
Tears are definitely streaming down Kenma’s face as Kuroo brings his hand up and shoves two fingers into Kenma’s mouth, pressing down against his tongue, pushing into his throat and collecting the drool that pools and spills out of the corner of Kenma’s mouth. Kuroo continues to fuck Kenma open on his fingers, teasing with light pressure on his prostate, until Kenma is shaking, nails carving red lines down Kuroo’s shoulders.
“Fuck,” Kuroo growls. “Your body is practically begging for me.” Kuroo’s eyes trail from where his fingers pump into Kenma up to Kenma’s face and the evidence of his crumbling resolve is reflected in his dark eyes when they lock with Kenma’s.
“I’m ready, Kuro. I don’t care if it hurts, fuck me and don’t stop until I’m filled with your cum.” Kenma feels smug at the way that Kuroo’s eyes widen in response to his bold statement. A lot of their filthier moments are rushed, desperate, and in the dark, conveyed with slurred whispers or pushy hands. Never like this.
Being with Kuroo has never been like this. This means something that Kenma has been avoiding for months. It’s catching up to them. Relief loosens the knot in Kenma’s chest. He sinks into the cold tile as Kuroo’s huge cock slowly sinks into him.
The veins in Kuroo’s arms pulse against his tan skin as he braces himself over Kenma’s body, sheathing himself completely in Kenma’s ass. “Oh, fuck,” he groans.
Kenma pushes Kuroo’s sweaty hair from his brow, kisses his collarbones and chest. Wills his body to relax around Kuroo’s imposing length. “I’m yours,” Kenma mumbles again. When Kuroo starts to move, he doesn’t let Kenma break their eye contact; his hand sits firmly under Kenma’s chin, fingers wrapped loosely around his throat again as he sets a steady pace fucking into him.
The pain is the only thing keeping Kenma’s head from spinning, floating off of his shoulders and getting caught in what he sees in Kuroo’s eyes. Love. “Mine,” Kuroo groans. Mine, mine, mine in time with his thrusts.
“Fuck! ‘M gonna cum. Tetsurou!” Kenma just barely gets a hand wrapped around his own cock before Kuroo’s pushing him over the edge with a relentless onslaught of thrusts drilling directly into his prostate. Cum splatters hot on his chest and Kenma finally squeezes his eyes shut as he shouts, his voice carrying on in a broken moan.
Kuroo continues to use his boneless body to chase his own release. He’s quick to follow as Kenma goads him to cum, begging Kuroo to fill his body with his release. Kuroo pounds one last time, hips slapping against Kenma’s ass with finality and gives him what he’s been begging for.
Kenma wipes Kuroo’s brow again, kissing his face as he shakes before letting his weight rest on Kenma. He’s still fully inside of Kenma, but it doesn't matter. Kenma prefers it, in fact.
Their breathing is so loud that Kenma almost misses it when Kuroo says, “I love you,” in the space between Kenma’s shoulder and his neck.
A feeling swells up in Kenma’s chest, but he bites his tongue.