Work Text:
The craze at the café around final exam season was almost nostalgic for Kuroo – almost. Like, nostalgia’s unpleasant twin who actually just makes you want to punch yourself in the face for remembering something.
Kuroo was so glad he had graduated college, because he didn’t envy the students who were crying as they pulled all-nighters. Especially not the gorgeous bottle blond who had been there since five in the evening (it was nearing midnight).
Neko Coffee was a great café for a number of reasons. The obvious was the fact that fluffy kitties were roaming around, which the stressing students found to be quite comforting. But a rare gem was the fact that they stayed open 24 hours during testing seasons, because everyone knows that college students are powered by caffeine.
(There was also a deal going around for college students so that they didn’t go completely broke in their studying endeavors.)
Kuroo always took the night shifts during these times, because he didn’t have the healthiest sleeping habits anyways, so might as well get paid for it! He glanced back at the bottle blond. It was Tuesday, and they had pulled all-nighters two nights in a row. He was worried.
Not just because they were cute (they were), or all the cats crowded them when they got stressed (good kitties), but because it was Kenma. As lifelong best friends, Kuroo was pretty sure he had to take better care of them than this, enabling their caffeine addiction.
“Please switch to decaf,” he begged, handing them a black coffee.
Kenma scowled – not at him, for once, but at their computer. “Nope. Gotta figure it out.”
“What? Is that the same project you were working on last night?” He sat down next to them.
“I think I made a typo in the code, and I can’t fucking find it,” they said, voice breaking. “Kuro, I’m so exhausted.”
“How can you be when you’ve had ten cups of coffee tonight?” he teased.
“Eleven.” They picked up the next coffee and started to drink it all down.
“Jeez, kitten, you’ll burn your throat that way!”
“Ask me if I give a fuck. Spoiler: I don’t.”
They continued searching through their coding, but Kuroo didn’t want to get up just yet. He was starting to get extra worried. Their eyeliner was smudged, hair unbrushed, and there were dark circles under their eyes. They looked pale, and not in the I-stay-inside-playing-video-games-all-day kind of way, but instead in the I’m-literally-dying kind of way.
“When’s the last time you had a real meal, Ken?”
They clicked their tongue at him and continued on with their search.
He analyzed their face, then reached out and touched their forehead with the back of his hand.
“I’m not sick, Kuro.”
“You’ll get sick if you don’t take better care of yourself.”
“You’re one to talk.”
“Kenma.” He put a hand on their arm. “Find the typo, and then I’m taking you to get real food, and then we’re going home.”
“What about your shift?” they reminded him.
“Yaku’s coming in in like ten minutes. I can leave.”
A tabby jumped up on Kenma’s lap and bumped its head against their chin. They scratched its back. “Alright. Fine.”
“That’s what we like to hear.” He smiled and kissed their head before walking back to the counter.
After fifteen minutes, Kuroo saw Kenma close their laptop. He glanced at Yaku.
“You got this?”
Yaku rolled his eyes and gestured at the mostly empty café. “Yes, I think I can manage.”
Kuroo smiled and walked over to Kenma. “Let’s get you fed, then, kitten.”
Kenma groaned, pushing themself up out of the chair. “I’m so tired.”
“You need to eat. You look like you’re actually malnourished,” he chided, slipping an arm around them to hold them up. “Can you imagine what Auntie and Uncle would do to me if they found out I wasn’t taking care of you?”
“It’s not your job to take care of me, Kuro,” Kenma mumbled, their face smashed against Kuroo’s side.
“No, but it’s my favorite hobby.” He helped them into the passenger’s seat of his car before getting into the driver’s seat. “We’re getting you fruit and veggies, no arguments.”
“Kay.”
“And meat. You look like you’re not getting enough protein.”
“Maybe you should keep your eyes on the road.”
He rolled his eyes. “They are on the road. But I saw you for long enough today to know you’re not taking care of yourself.”
“Final exams,” they replied, waving their hand sleepily, dismissively.
Kuroo wanted to press, but he knew better by now. Once Kenma had some food in them and they were snuggled up together on the couch, they’d tell him what was really going on. He wished that they didn’t always wait until they were on the verge of a mental breakdown to tell him stuff, but he knew they worried about bugging him when it wasn’t serious.
Of course, he thought everything Kenma-related was serious (he would gladly be interrupted in the middle of his very important internship just to hear about the apple pie they’d eaten in painstaking detail), but he knew Kenma didn’t want to worry him. So, he tried not to worry. Granted, he failed miserably, but he tried.
When they got to the diner, Kuroo ordered as many healthy options as he could find. Then, he slipped in an apple pie order to take home, because well, Kenma.
“Thanks,” they mumbled, pushing food around their plate.
He reached across the table for their hand. “Please eat, kitten. I’m worried.”
“Can – can we just take it home? I’m kinda exhausted from being out and about.”
Kuroo nodded. “Of course; yeah. We’ll ask for a box. I’ll even feed you if you’re too tired to eat,” he added with a smirk.
“You’re an idiot, Kuro.” Kenma smiled, though, and that was all he’d been going for.
Kuroo finished his food first, so he sat next to Kenma on the couch, watching as they did their best to finish their own. He recognized this, unfortunately.
“One more bite of everything, then you can be done if you really want to be?” he suggested.
“What are you, my mom?” Kenma sighed, but they did just that anyways.
Kuroo took their plate to the kitchen and set it on the counter. He’d deal with it later. Then, he grabbed a blanket to pull around the two of them.
“Wanna talk about it?” he prompted.
Kenma flopped onto his lap. “It’s stupid.”
He ran a hand through their hand. “You always say that, and it’s never true. Not to me.”
“I’m not any good at programming, and I don’t know how I even made it this far in my major.”
Kuroo sighed. “You made your own game from scratch last semester.”
“It’s a shitty game.”
“What?” Kuroo gasped. “That’s my favorite game, I can’t believe you’d insult my taste like that!”
Kenma rolled their eyes, but they started to smile, too. “It’s boring and the storyline sucks ass.”
“Hey, that’s my best friend’s first ever creation you’re talking about,” he said gently. “They’re going to make great things someday, just you wait. You’ll be eating your words.” He leaned down and kissed their forehead.
They reached up and pinched his nose. “You have too much faith in me sometimes, Kuro.”
“Gotta make up for the faith you don’t have in yourself.”
They wrapped their arms around his waist and pulled him to lay down on the couch with them. He obliged, pulling them close so they could use his chest as a pillow.
“Sleep deprivation is ruining your judgment,” he whispered into their hair. “So…sleep.”
For a few minutes, they were silent, so Kuroo assumed they had actually taken his advice. Then:
“Kuro?”
“Hm?”
“Thanks.”
“If you come to the café tomorrow night, I’ll kick you out,” he promised.
“No, you won’t.”
“I will. Mori will too, all I have to do is ask.”
They lifted their head and frowned at him. “I’ll drink Red Bull.”
“Don’t poison your body this way,” he sighed, shaking his head. “Sleep is better for giving energy anyways. Do you have a morning class on Wednesdays?”
“No.”
“Good. We’re sleeping in.”
“Not on the couch, I hope.”
Kuroo laughed. “I can take you to bed if you want, then.”
“Yeah.”
“For the record, you’re gonna fucking ace your finals.” He scooped them up.
“Can we move somewhere that allows us to have a cat when I graduate?” they asked suddenly. “I really want a cat after being at that café all week.”
He chuckled. “Improvement already. You said when you graduate, not if. And yeah, of course we can get a cat. We can get two cats.”
“What about five?”
“We’re not responsible enough for five cats.”
“Three?”
“Maybe.” He set them on the bed and laughed. “Green tea instead of coffee in the morning?”
“I’ll die,” they argued.
“I think you’ll be okay. Eat an apple. It’s better for you and still gives energy.”
They groaned, but they smiled. “Alright. Stop mothering me and get in bed.”
“Goodnight, kitten.” He climbed in next to them.
“Night, Kuro.”