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“Damned cat,” Kuroo says affectionately, looking at Kenma with a smile. “Taking up the entire couch, I can’t believe you.”
“Shut up,” Kenma grunts in response, curling up a little bit as Kuroo sits at the other end of the couch and tugs some of the blanket that had been over Kenma’s body onto his lap and making Kenma whine a bit. Once the taller was situated, Kenma stretched out again so that his feet - more like blocks of ice, really - were pressed against Kuroo’s leg.
“Jeeeesus, Kenma,” Kuroo gasps, frantically shoving at Kenma’s feet in an attempt to get the blanket between their touching skin. “Why the absolute fuck are you so cold?”
“‘M not cold, you’re just warm.”
“I vehemently disagree.”
“You would,” Kenma hums, still not turning to look at his boyfriend. “You’re so picky.”
“”My body is currently at the same temperature it always is, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Needy, too,” Kenma adds blandly as he works his feet under the blanket to press them against Kuroo’s warm skin once more. “You’re warm, I’m cold. Warm me up?”
“I can’t believe you,” Kuroo says with a whine as he reluctantly presses his thigh against Kenma’s feet. “How the hell are you so cold?”
Kenma finally pauses his game to turn and look at Kuroo. “It’s December, and it’s snowing,” he says flatly. “More importantly, why the fuck are you wearing shorts in winter?”
“Technically, it’s not winter yet,” Kuroo replies, sliding a pillow between his body and the armrest of the sofa. “Besides, whenever you have the fire going, I feel like my legs are gonna fall off from being dry and overheated if I wear actual pants.”
“Then don’t sit in front of the fire with pants on,” Kenma grumbles before turning back to his game with a roll of his eyes.
“Would you prefer me to take off all of my clothes and lay down in front of the fire? On the rug? So you can paint me,” he continues, getting onto all fours and caging Kenma between his limbs, “like one of your French girls?”
Kenma only continues to play his game, strategically smashing buttons and exiling his opponent from the screen before muttering a quiet “I don’t even like girls.”
“Oh?” Kuroo snickers. “So you want me to strip and lay in front of the fire?”
“I never said that.”
“You didn’t deny it.”
“Shut up.”
“You know you love me,” Kuroo says as he lowers some of his body weight onto Kenma, his muscles shaking at the weird angle but the effort being completely worth it when he hears a small “oof” underneath him.
“Yeah, yeah, get off,” Kenma gripes in response, “or you have to go out to chop more logs for the fire.”
“We have enough to last the winter, I think we’ll be fine,” Kuroo murmurs against Kenma’s neck before shifting his weight to his back legs and straddling his boyfriend’s back, taking out the elastic band keeping Kenma’s hair held back and combing it out gently. “Can I braid your hair?” he asks, already preparing for it, taking strands of long hair into his hands and beginning the braid before Kenma can even respond.
“You’re already doing it, so don’t bother stopping,” Kenma replies, and Kuroo can tell that he’s trying to be indifferent, but can also hear the endeared smile in his voice.
A triumphant grin on his face, Kuroo continues his work in earnest, sweeping more and more hair into the braid until he’s tying it off at the end. Kuroo can’t help but tug at it once he’s done, the dark brown fading into light his favourite aesthetic.
“Now you gotta put one more log on the fire,” Kenma says, stretching his arms in front of himself in between matches, Kuroo feeling barely-there muscles flexing between his thighs. “I let you braid my hair, so you have to return the favour now.”
Kuroo sighs with a broad smile on his face, and he traces his finger down Kenma’s spine, watching his back arch beautifully as he gets off. “Fine,” Kuroo concedes, already grabbing a log from the top of the stack and gently tossing it onto the fire, watching the sparks fly up the chimney. “But then we go to bed once this log is done.”
“Mmkay,” Kenma replies, a note of happiness in his voice, likely undetectable to anyone else.
Kuroo smiles more gently, taking in the sight of his best friend, the one who’s always been by his side. And hopefully always would be, he thinks, remembering the ring in the left pocket of his coat.
❅❅❅
Kuroo’s earlier words should have been a warning to them both, Kuroo thinks, waking up after the fan in the corner of their room clicks off. With a quick glance over to where the projection from their clock should be and seeing only blank wall, he confirms his theory. The power’s gone out. And it’s the dead of winter.
The house is really quite well insulated, but they keep the temperature lower in the winter so the heating will turn on less - it’s better for the environment. They do have a generator, but don’t like to use it if it can be avoided, again, it’s better for the environment. So, with a sleepy smirk, Kuroo slides out of bed, pads barefoot over to the living room, and places a log on the barely glowing coals of the remnants of the previous night’s fire.
There’s something so… satisfying, almost, about making a fire, something cathartic about setting up logs and then watching them burn, crumbling to ash. He sits back on his heels as he watches the dry log begin to smoke before catching fire as he adds oxygen to get the coals to a burning temperature.
He’s setting blankets out on the rug in front of the fire when he hears a noise behind him. “Good morning, love,” he says without turning from his task, adding a plethora of pillows on one end of the rug.
Kenma whines and collapses on the couch, pressing his face into the cushions. “Power’s out,” comes his muffled grunt.
“I noticed,” Kuroo replies, standing up to look at his handiwork, nodding with satisfaction before looking to where his boyfriend is. He can’t help but smile at the sight, Kenma curled up under Kuroo’s duster - which is much too big for him, positively swamping his lithe frame - with his hair still in the braid Kuroo had tried so hard on. “So, I started the fire and laid out blankets and pillows on the rug. Wanna join me?”
“Fuckin’ pyromaniac,” Kenma mutters as he rolls off of the couch and onto the floor with a loud thud, rolling over to the rug. “What the hell is in your pocket? It’s lumpy and uncomfortable.”
“Come here and I’ll show you.”
Kenma sleepily stares up at him. “I’m literally right next to you, jackass.”
“I mean under the blankets, you dingus.”
“Fine, then scoot the fuck over.”
Kuroo smiled softly as he complied, pressing a kiss to Kenma’s forehead before he slid his hand into his coat pocket, feeling velvet at his fingertips. Oh, yeah. That was a thing.
“I was gonna wait until tomorrow for this,” Kuroo begins, propping himself up on his elbow as he hides the box in his hand, “but I think the power’s gonna be out long enough that I won’t be able to do it the way I wanted to anyway. And, well, you know me, I’m no good at waiting.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Shush,” Kuroo laughs, placing a finger over Kenma’s lips, wiping it on his coat when Kenma gives it a kitten lick. “I’m trying to give a speech.”
“Get on with it, then,” Kenma says, curling into a ball under Kuroo’s coat and closing his eyes.
“Kenma.” Kuroo takes the ring out of the velvet box, holding the tungsten band gently between his fingertips.
“Tetsu.”
Kuroo tilts Kenma’s chin up towards him. “Kenma, look at me.”
Golden eyes slowly blink open. “What’s up?”
“I just think it would be neat if we got married,” Kuroo replies, a smirk playing at his lips as he watches his boyfriend’s pupils slowly dilate.
“Okay,” Kenma says with a shrug, and Kuroo can see the smile bubbling underneath his seemingly nonchalant face, holding out his left hand for Kuroo to slide the band onto his finger, cupping his jaw after and pressing a long, deep kiss to Kuroo’s lips.
“You’re so beautiful,” Kuroo whispers when they pull away, smiling at the silver band shining in the firelight as Kenma pulls at his collar to give him another kiss.
And if he’s still staring at it hours later, watching the way the light bounces off of the band and feeling his heart soar, well, he’s the only one who knows, he thinks, smiling down at their intertwined fingers.