Chapter Text
Kenma thinks that if someone forced himself to pick the day he’d felt happiest, this might just be it. A fire burns warm and glowy in Tetsurou’s fireplace downstairs; an identical one is in his chest, warming him to his very core. Snow falls down outside, the window panes frosted over. The sky’s stark, white, and a bit too bright to look at, (He’d much rather look at Tetsu, anyway).
He crooks his head up to gaze at Tetsurou, who closes his eyes in content and pulls a red knit blanket a bit tighter around Kenma’s shoulders; he’s fully aware that Kenma tends to be on the colder side, and the fact that the temperature is below zero doesn’t help him, any.
“You’re so warm,” Kenma says, huffing slightly. “How are you so warm?”
Tetsurou shrugs, just shifts slightly. “I don’t know, especially with you leeching all the body heat I have to offer.” It’s all in good fun, of course, but the tips of Kenma’s ears tint slightly pink in embarrassment and he burrows a bit further underneath the copious blanket fort they’ve built up in Tetsu’s room, sighing in content.
“I’m your--” Kenma cuts off, not sure exactly what word to place there. “If anyone’s supposed to steal your body heat, it’s definitely me.”
“Right. I wouldn’t want it to be anyone besides my pseudo-boyfriend,” Tetsu teases.
“B… Boyfriend?” Kenma forces out. Tetsu had said that so easily, so calm, like it was nothing. And granted, yes, they’re definitely skating a thin line between friends and more. Kenma’s slipping, tumbling over the line, but still. They’ve had several shared kisses -- sometimes more -- two careful handjobs (he’d been a bit shaky the first time, but just the reactions, the noises he could make Kuroo make were enough to keep him going). But despite all that, they hadn’t made anything official.
Tetsurou is quick to revise: “I mean, not exactly, but… kind of?”
Kenma so rarely sees the third year unsure of himself that he almost doesn’t know what to make of the situation in front of him. Their situation is pretty unique, that’s certain; Kuroo’s going to college when this school year finishes, and while it might not be the best decision to be in a relationship, neither of them can comfortably say they’d want to see other people.
So, Kenma resigns, they’re just here , just enjoying each other while they’re both living at home, just six houses apart. They revel in one another, never losing the wonder that their friendship had had since childhood. Since… forever.
“Kuro?” Kenma asks, so quiet the sound almost dies on his lips. Kuroo is so absolutely attentive, though, that he shifts slightly to face the younger boy, quirking his head inquisitively.
Kenma gazes up through golden eyes, hyper aware of everywhere they’re touching ( knee to knee, hand to waist, elbow to knee) , and sighs, leaning a bit forward into Tetsurou’s touch.
“I-” he stumbles over the words, clumsy and unsure, and shifts his gaze upwards towards Kuroo’s bed. It’s inviting, made messily, and Kenma thinks he’d much rather be there.
“Do you wanna lie in bed instead?”
“Please.”
They’re warm, so warm, enveloped in blankets. The world outside is cold; sky is a stark white, a fresh coating of snow covers the ground, the bushes, the trees, but inside is warm and full of love and Kenma’s never felt so happy as he does in this moment.
Happy, he’s so happy, but he also feels a bit like he’s swimming in nothing, and when Kuroo kisses just where his lips join in the center, he can’t help but melt into his touch, They’re alone, Kuroo’s parents at work and his brother at a friend’s house, so there’s no conceivable reason that they shouldn’t be able to make the most of their time together.
“Is this okay?” Tetsurou pulls away, gazing down earnestly. “I don’t want to do anything you’re not comfortable with.” His face is laced with concern, and though they have gone further in the past, Kenma’s comfort always seems to be a high priority for him.
“So okay,” Kenma agrees breathlessly. There’s not a single doubt in his mind that this is what he wants. Here, today, with Kuroo.
It’s slow, cautious, even; Kenma doesn’t know what he’s expected, but this exceeds everything. Kuroo’s long and slender in the best way, gentle with Kenma like he’s something valuable. His fingers play at the hem of Kenma’s binder, which he’s elected to keep on.
When Kenma comes, Kuroo deep inside him, he doesn’t think he’s felt so complete in his life. He feels real , back arched, hands splayed out against Kuroo’s chest, lips parted; he can’t breathe in the best possible way
“God,” he drags out, voice gone slightly scratchy. He repeats it, unable to say much more, certainly nothing coherent.
Their lips meet once more, and Kenma’s fingers press into Tetsurou’s hips, leaving crescent moons where his nails are a bit too long.
It isn’t really long, feels like thirty seconds and five years, until Tetsu pushes deeper into him and Kenma’s eyes flutter shut. When he pulls out and tosses the condom in the trashcan, Kenma shudders slightly.
“I’ve transcended,” Kenma sighs, voice a bit quieter than normal. The haze that’s settled over both of them is pleasant and warm, and he feels so complete with his head on Tetsu’s chest, like there’s no place he belongs as opposed to Tetsurou’s bed.
Tetsurou’s breathing is still a little shallow, a little bit erratic, but they’re both so relaxed that Kenma thinks maybe he could just fall asleep here and now. He wills himself not to think about what will happen when his other half goes to college, just focuses on the heart pounding in his ribcage and the arm around him. That’s enough.
Kozume Kenma loves plenty of things; he loves long afternoon naps, loves the feeling of stretching after hours of sitting. He loves apple pie and American music and when cats squint their eyes. He loves the smell of mint and loves the sound of fingers clacking away at a keyboard. He loves the feeling of doing well on a test he didn’t study for, loves the sound of other people saying his name.
Kozume Kenma loves Kuroo Tetsurou. A lot .
He thinks fleetingly that it might be foolish of him to feel this way, but then Kuroo squints at him and yawns-- any doubts Kenma might have had prior to that have dissipated, leaving him with a blissful calm.
He loves Kuroo.
He tries not to overthink it; he’s a bit tired and hazy anyway, tucked under the crook of Kuroo’s arm. It feels wrong to worry, so he simply doesn’t, just lets his eyes close and lets himself drift off to sleep with Tetsu’s arm around him. It’s best, this way.
Tetsu’s mother is a gracious hostess, to say the least. With how often Kenma is at the Kuroo house, it’s as if she has a fourth son. He occupies Akihito’s seat, as he’s studying away at college. The pang somewhere inside of Kenma reminds him that next year, it’s going to be Tetsu at college. He doesn’t want to think about that.
In any case, Tetsurou’s mother is smiling brightly, dishing out bowls full of miso soup; Kenma’s pleased because she’s an excellent cook, far better than either of his parents. Tetsu’s father has yet to come home, but they’re joined by his little brother, anyway.
“Ah, Tetsu-kun,” she says, directing her gaze to her middle child, “I wanted to remind you of your plans this weekend.”
Between bites, Tetsurou says: “visiting college, I know.”
“Tetsurou has a volleyball scholarship offer!” She tells Kenma, as if he didn’t already know this. He clears his throat, just nods politely. He thinks, for the second time in just a few minutes, that he’d rather not entertain the idea of Tetsu leaving.
Not that it's an idea. It's very... real, and imminent, and Kenma doesn't want to think about it.
The time in which they are away from one and another is never a pleasant experience. In Kuroo’s first year of middle school, where Kenma was left behind, the young child had grown increasingly shy and withdrawn at school. In Kenma’s own last year of middle school, it had been the same. That was with Tetsu still living just down the street, with spending weekends and weeknights at his house. He won’t have that anymore. It’s empty silence, weekends alone and the same loneliness he’d known for those years. He has Hinata, he supposes, but he lives far, and Kuroo is just… different. Kenma’s chest aches .
“I’m not surprised,” he deadpans. Tetsurou is a skilled player as well as the captain of the Nekoma team. If anybody deserves this scholarship, it’s him.
Suddenly, Kenma isn’t so hungry anymore. He pushes his bowl to the center of the table, asks to be excused. He plods off to the bathroom when nobody protests, and locks the door behind him.
He’s wobbly, gone like jelly on the inside. He’d known for… forever, that Kuroo was going to have to go off to college, but it was… is real now.
He stretches his shoulders out, meets his own eyes in the reflection of the mirror, and puffs out his cheeks. His eyes are a bit red, and he thinks that maybe if the situation were different, he’d allow himself to cry. He doesn’t, though, switches on the tap and splashes cold water under his eyes until he’s at least marginally more satisfied with his appearance.
He returns to the table. They’ve finished up and are cleaning the dishes; rather, Tetsurou and his mom are cleaning the dishes. Tetsu’s little brother is whining about not wanting to do his dishes. Kenma shakes his head knowingly
He chips in, takes his own dishes to the sink. When Tetsurou’s mom thanks him, he shrugs and says it’s nothing. Mostly, he just wants to be alone with Tetsu again. Whilst he loves being around his best friend’s family, he loves being around his best friend more than anything. He’s feeling a bit overwhelmed.
Much to his relief, Tetsu’s mom gives her permission for the two to go upstairs, and there are no complaints from either of the boys, who quickly dash up the stairs and find themselves on Tetsu’s messily made bed.
They’re facing each other, knees separated by mere centimeters. Kenma’s leaned against the headboard and Kuroo leans his head against the wall, stifling a yawn. It’s silent but nice, somehow. Sunlight floods through the windows. Kenma practically forgets his earlier worries.
A few moments into the comfortable silence, Tetsu breaks it with the rustle of notebook paper. They’ve both got homework assignments to do, though Kenma thinks he can afford to put his off. Tetsu needs help with math sometimes, anyway, so it’s best if he isn’t terribly distracted.
He occupies himself looking around, anyway. Tetsu’s parents keep the house incredibly cold, and Kenma’s naturally cold as is, so after some time he stands and drapes Kuroo’s volleyball jacket over his shoulders in some attempt to warm himself up.
Kuroo, on the other hand, is eternally warm, it seems; he’s like a space heater. It definitely isn’t the only aspect of the two of them where they’re opposites, but it’s one Kenma is particularly fond of. The third year slings an arm around his shoulder, pulling him a bit close.
Kenma feels warm , either from the jacket or from Kuroo, from the way he’s making him feel. It’s a combination of both, probably.
“Do you know…” Tetsu begins, shifting his notebook into Kenma’s view, “what this answer is?” He points out a math question, something to do with finding limits.
“It’s two,” Kenma explains after quickly sketching. “See-”
“Oh! I see!” Kuroo agrees. Kenma doubts it, but he’s silent once more, anyway.
“And zero,” he adds after a moment. The blush on Kuroo’s face makes the fire in his chest burn all the brighter. He’s not warm, he’s hot and he loves Kuroo and he doesn’t know what to think.
He helps Tetsu with three more problems, glances over at his paper every so often. It’s covered with distracted doodles, but he finishes it after half an hour, shoving it away in his folder.
“That’s enough math for a lifetime,” Kuroo says, shaking his head.
“You’re still going to have to take math in college,” Kenma, always the voice of reason, intones.
“College,” Tetsu repeats, looking a bit awestruck.
“College,” Kenma agrees. “See, if you forgot, you’re eighteen now, so.”
“Right. Getting to that age!” Tetsurou says. “That’s… weird, isn’t it? That I won’t be here anymore.” He’s quick to revise: “I mean, I’ll come visit , and you can visit me! But-” he doesn’t take the thought any further.
“I know what you mean,” Kenma agrees. “I know.”
Having Tetsurou here, having this sort of relationship is nice , it’s something Kenma hasn’t had before, and while they’ve never made it official, he doesn’t think they’re… not together, exactly.
Tetsu catches him by surprise, angling Kenma’s chin upwards towards him and pressing a gentle kiss to the middle of his lips. His eyes are soft and knowing, and when he pulls away, Kenma thinks all the breath has left his body.
“I wanted to…” Kuroo begins, gaze flitting around the room and settling on a seemingly very interesting scuff on the baseboard, where the floor meets wall. “I wanted to talk to you about something, Kenma.”
Anxiety already has the second year worried. Kuroo’s going far for college, or Kuroo doesn’t want what they have, or Kuroo wants him to go home, or--
“When I’m in college,” he starts-- Kenma notes that his voice doesn’t have its usual confident tone, worrying him even further -- “I know we’re not… dating, not exactly, but if you want to see other people… If you do, I wanted to tell you that I’m not going to stop you from doing that, Kenma.”
“Oh.” Kenma can feel his cheeks heating up, a telltale sign that he’s feeling anxious. That’s just the beginning - he’s everything; anxious, unsettled… other synonyms for ‘anxious’ aren’t coming to him, but if they were, he’d be feeling those too. “Yeah.”
“You don’t have to. Just, I know it’s a possibility, and I guess it is for me, too. And I wanted you to know there would be no hard feelings if you… wanted to see other people while I’m away.”
Kenma feels sick, a bit. He nods and takes his phone out of his backpack, angles it away from Kuroo and quickly texts his mom to ‘ pls call me i want to go home.”'
Lucky for him, she does two minutes and thirty three second later, not that he was counting. She asks what’s wrong, knows the waver in her child’s voice well, but he doesn’t give any.
“My mom wants me home,” he tells Kuroo. “Thanks for having me over. Good luck with your homework, Kuroo.”
The second year shoves his phone deep in his pocket, heading down the stairs before Kuroo can answer. He leaves his friend with his mouth open, answer having died out of his lips, and doesn’t even thank Tetsu’s mom for having him over. He darts down the street to his house, where his mother is, not surprisingly, waiting for him in the hallway.
“Kenma,” she keens, closing the door behind him. “What’s wrong, my darling?”
“Just homework,” Kenma lies. “I didn’t know how to ask to leave, so I needed you to bail me out." Hopefully she can ignore his watery eyes, ignore the flush on his cheeks and the crack in his voice. Hopefully, he can ignore the fact that though they act like they are, Kuroo doesn’t care about dating Kenma. He doesn’t care.
“Kenma…” she sighs, seems to give up. “If you need help with homework, you know where to find me.” She wraps her arms tight around his shoulders, and he winces slightly, but tolerates it either way. He thinks if the situation were different, he might appreciate it, but he can’t .
She sees through him, but she knows him well enough to know that he’s not going to talk until he’s ready. That’s if he does at all.
His door locks behind him, and two texts from Kuroo light up the screen of his iPhone. He deletes them without ever reading them, shoves his phone in a drawer in his desk, and sits beneath his window, sighing.
Only when both of his parents are asleep does he shower, stands under water so hot he feels his skin might melt, and emerges to a fogged up mirror and reddened skin. He looks like shit , but he supposes it doesn’t matter; it isn’t like he has anyone to impress.
His phone buzzes violently from inside the drawer, and he decides he’ll check it, anyway. He’s surprised, pleasantly or otherwise, to see that it isn’t from Tetsu. He’s probably asleep by now, anyway.
from: hinata
i’m coming to tokyo next week!!
from: hinata
my dad has a meeting and he says i can come along!! maybe i can see you?
to: hinata
maybe, yeah.
It’d be nice for a change, to see somebody else. Not to mention, Hinata lives far, so it isn’t like Kenma sees him often. He’ll take him up on it. Maybe he’ll have to distance himself from Kuroo. Maybe that’s what they both need, after all.
He’s lonely . He’s so lonely that when Hinata shows up at his house six days later, he doesn’t even falter at the younger boy’s excited tone of voice.
“My room’s upstairs,” Kenma explains. “But if you’re hungry, my dad just went shopping.”
As it turns out, Hinata’s not really hungry. He admires how quiet Kenma’s house is: (“My house is never quiet! Natsu-- that’s my sister -- is so loud! I guess I am too, though.”)
Kenma leads them up to his room, which is unusually clean. He usually keeps it neat, but it’s more so than normal; his mom had made him clean it up since he was having a guest over. (He’d been tempted to say that she didn’t make him when Kuroo came over, but he didn’t want to bring him up, really.)
“So neat!” Hinata admires, sitting down at Kenma’s desk chair. Kenma himself sits at the edge of his bed, nodding. “My mom had me clean it,” he admits. He half wonders what Hinata’s room is like, but he doesn’t ask.
“So,” Hinata begins, excited as usual, “whose volleyball jacket is this? Is it… oh, I lost his name.”
He’s referring to Tetsu’s jacket, which is hung up on the back of Kenma’s chair. He sort of winces involuntarily.
“Tet-- uh, Kuroo,” he says. “Yeah. I haven’t given it back just yet.”
Hinata raises an eyebrow. “Did he give it to you? Are you together? ” He purses his lips, forcing Kenma to quickly shake his head.
“No,” he denies, admittedly slightly bitter about the response. “No, we aren’t.”
Shouyou seems to understand that Kenma would rather not explain their current situation, because he moves on to a new topic. His mind, it seems, moves a thousand miles a minute.
“I’m passing English now!” he tells Kenma, grinning brightly. “I wasn’t, before, but Yachi-san-- she’s our first year manager, if you didn’t remember -- helped me! So I’m passing,” he reiterates. “Our captain is really good at English. Is yours?”
Kenma isn’t quite sure what that has to do with anything, but if he ignores the last part, he can shift the attention away from Tetsurou, so he takes the bait.
“English is hard,” he agrees. He doesn’t struggle with it as much as some others he knows. Morisuke, for instance, struggles a lot. He’s helped him alongside Tetsu at times. He’s a bit ahead, anyway. His father learned English as a second language and taught him a lot of it as a child, so he’s well above a second year’s average level; not fluent, but able to hold a decent conversation.
Something Kenma’s noted about Shouyou is that he doesn’t really have much of a filter. He’s opposite to Kenma in that way, They’re two extremes; Hinata says, it seems, everything on his mind, and Kenma… Kenma keeps his thoughts to himself.
Hinata’s thoughts are about Kuroo, it seems. He asks, “are you sure you and your captain aren’t dating, Kenma?”
“We’re not!” Kenma snaps, standing from his bed. He yanks the jacket from the back of his chair. With the friction from Hinata’s back against the chair, he hears the threads rip, but he doesn’t even look. He’s never been a crier, even as a child, but hot, angry tears threaten at the brim of his eyes.
He utters an almost silent “I’ll be back in a second, Hinata,” and heads down the hallway. When he’s in his bathroom, he presses a cold, wet washrag to his eyes. He doesn’t want to cry, and he definitely doesn’t want Shouyou knowing he’s upset.
He doesn’t even know why he’s upset. They weren’t dating. They weren’t. They agreed on that, that whatever they were wasn’t… dating. And yet Tetsu's words still sting as much as they did when he first said them. Kenma doesn’t know. He just doesn’t know.
When he returns, he mutters an apology, something about having to use the bathroom, and sits back on his bed. He’ll ask his mom to sew whatever ripped on Tetsu’s jacket, but he doesn’t care.
Hinata’s a welcome distraction; they cycle through topics from volleyball to music to Tobio and to Shouyou’s dogs at home. Kenma doesn’t talk much, but he’s a good listener, and it seems that Shouyou is enjoying having somebody to talk to other than his teammates. As entertaining as they are, it’s good to interact with a variety of people… He’s still learning that himself.
They lose six hours and gain two bowls of noodles before Shouyou’s dad comes to pick up his son and return back to wherever they’re staying-- home or a hotel, Kenma isn’t sure, but he’s a bit overwhelmed and very glad to be alone, as much fun as he’s had.
He likes being alone so much, in fact, that he doesn’t meet Kuroo to walk to the train the next morning; his dad drives him, instead, and when he sees the third year on campus, he ducks into the bathroom. He doesn’t have it in him, and he definitely isn’t one for confrontation.
Avoiding Kuroo can’t hurt any worse than knowing that he doesn’t think anything of their status.
He can’t avoid Kuroo when he’s in Kenma’s living room ! He doesn’t believe his mom when she says that Tetsu came to see him, but he’s there in his six foot one inch, lanky glory. Kenma almost turns around. Instead, he takes the jacket that’s balled up in his hand and tosses it at Kuroo, and then turns to go back up to his bedroom.
Volleyball has given Tetsu good reflexes, and he follows. Kenma makes it to his bedroom, but aggravatingly, Tetsu is leaned against his door frame, smirking.
“Hear me out?” he asks.
“I don’t get why you’re bothering,” Kenma deadpans. “You’re going away in a few months-- it doesn’t matter.”
“It matters,” Tetsu counters. “To me. Enough for me to come over and ask your mom to please let me in… So I could talk to you.”
“I’m going to give you…” Kenma pauses, glancing at his phone, “a minute. Say what you need, then get--”
“It was bad timing,” Tetsu begins. He seems vulnerable, soft in a way that Kenma hasn’t really witnessed him before. He’s seen Tetsu when he’s sad, but he hasn’t seen the third year this… humbled. “Look, Kenma. I like you. I really, really, stupidly like you. And I know I’m not going far for college, but I was… I am scared that we’ll grow apart.”
“Kuro-” Kenma interjects.
Tetsu shakes his head. “I tried to distance myself so when I left, it would be easier for you, but that was stupid. I know that now, obviously.”
“Kuro, honest--” Kenma says, a bit louder. Tetsu doesn’t make himself vulnerable like this. It’s unusual, and frankly makes Kenma a bit uncomfortable.
“Just one more thing?” Tetsu asks. Kenma crosses his legs underneath him, back against his headboard.
“I haven’t… Been anyone’s boyfriend before,” Tetsurou admits. “I haven’t done that. And it scares me like hell, to think about it, but you’re-- you’re not just anyone. I don’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend. I want to be yours .“
Kenma falters, protest dying in his throat. He nods, shifting his gaze from the grooves of his floorboards to Kuroo’s knuckles, white from gripping the side of Kenma’s desk.
“Yeah,” he agrees. “Yes, I mean… Yes. I want… Yeah.”
Words don’t come to him, but they don’t have to, because Kuroo’s there and kissing him and it’s slow and cautious and Kenma can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but bunch up Tetsu’s shirt in his right hand and place his left against the small of Kuroo, his Kuroo’s back.
“I’m sorry I didn’t give you time to talk about it,” he says quietly, pulling away. All the forgiveness in the world is in Tetsu’s eyes, and in that moment, he knows they’ll be okay.
Things are incredible. Not simple, not always easy, definitely not perfect , but… incredible. Kenma’s never been so proud of someone. The volleyball scholarship, college, it’s all so good for Tetsurou. Grainy Skype calls are Kenma’s new favorite thing, second only to… this.
Second only to being in Tetsurou’s dorm room, second only to staring up at the ceiling. Second only to weekend visits and being shown around, paraded like he’s something special. It’s second only to Kuroo teasing him, kissing him when his roommate -- Koutarou, Kenma finally remembers -- is away at class or practice or something.
He’s content, can’t believe he ever thought that they weren’t going to be okay. Because here, in a tiny cramped dorm room in Tokyo, he’s really, really, honestly the happiest he’s been, maybe not of all time but of anything he can recall.
He’s happy. He’s Tetsurou’s boyfriend. They’re happy and he’s allowed to visit two weekends a month and he actually… gets along with Tetsu’s roommate, never mind how loud he is. Tetsurou likes him, anyway, and Kenma’s glad that Tetsurou’s settling in well.
“Kuro?” he asks, quiet.
He’s met with a tired mumble, something unintelligible. He’s so tired, having been up for an eight o’clock class in the morning (Kenma had slept in, met him at nine thirty in the cafeteria for breakfast-- which, for the record, hadn’t even been very good . He’d enjoyed it, though. He could sit and watch paint dry with Tetsu and he’d enjoy it, still.)
Kenma abandons that thought entirely, settles on letting his eyes work on memorizing Tetsu, as if he hasn't already. He traces the curve of his lips with the lightest of touches, never enough to wake his boyfriend (he'll never be over calling him that. His boyfriend!) He can't see much other than that, Tetsu's head sandwiched between two pillows, but he's committed every part of Tetsu to memory, so it isn't really an issue. He just has to close his eyes.
So he does just that, and as he does, he sleeps and sleeps well, knowing that his world is here, in a tiny dorm room in Tokyo. He can't imagine it any other way.