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Akaashi was the one who found him.
“Oh, hello Kuroo,” he’d said, surprised. “I didn’t realize you would be home.”
Kuroo was laying perfectly still on the couch. He was a little too tall to lay comfortably stretched out, so one leg was flopped over the arm and the other splayed out on the floor. His arms were crossed over his chest, a wrinkled paper clutched to his heart. His eyes were unfocused and glazed over, looking listlessly toward the ceiling. He looked like one of the actors hired for students to practice burial rites and magic
Kuroo made a noise somewhere between a whine and a grunt, acknowledging Akaashi’s presence but offering no feelings about it.
Akaashi, unruffled, neatly stowed his bag behind the dining table and hung his jacket from one of the chairs. He disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes, then returned with two cups of tea. He placed one on the coffee table beside Kuroo, well within reach should he elect to drink it, then settled in one of the overstuffed armchairs beside the television.
“Your class ended early, then?” Akaashi asked. He sipped at his tea, patiently waiting for Kuroo to muster up the energy to respond.
It didn’t take too long.
With a deep sigh, Kuroo flung one of his arms up to cover his face. “Yeah.”
Akaashi hid his grin in his mug. Kuroo’s tendency toward the dramatic when he was upset over something was so like his best friend’s. It was no wonder the two got along so well.
“Did your professor let you go for a reason?” Akaashi prodded.
Kuroo moaned, low and pained. He rolled onto his side and thrust the paper he’d been cradling to his chest toward his best friend’s boyfriend.
“Oh, you got your exams back?” Akaashi asked, reaching for the paper. He skimmed over the front page, eyes widening. “Oh. You got your exams back.”
Kuroo huffed, breath leaving him in a choked sob. “Akaashi I’m literally going to fail this class.” He rolled onto his stomach, burying his face in one of the couch cushions. “This is the second exam in a row that I’ve completely bombed,” he complained, voice muffled. “I’ve spent so much time in the prof’s office hours, and for what? I can’t face her again, not after this. I’m an embarrassment. I should drop out.”
Akaashi rolled his eyes affectionately. “Kuroo, you’re graduating this semester. Don’t you think it would be a bit rash to abandon your studies when you’ve come so close to earning your degrees?”
Kuroo laughed, a single, self-deprecating bark into the belly of the couch. “I won’t be graduating if I can’t pass this class. And if I don’t graduate, I don’t get a job at the Nekoma City Temple. If I don’t get a job at the Nekoma City Temple, I don’t get access to their archives. If I don’t get access to their archives–the most extensive in the country I’ll have you know–then I don’t get to spend the rest of my life studying the history of magic, and then, Akaashi, what’s the point!”
Kuroo pushed himself up onto his elbows, looking toward Akaashi with an absolutely miserable pout. Akaashi was quick to disguise his chuckle as a polite cough. “Ceremonial Magic 101 is a gen ed. It’s not even supposed to be hard, there are freshmen sleeping through that class and getting A’s!”
Akaashi cocked his head slightly and lifted his shoulders in a small, understanding shrug. “You shouldn’t judge your performance against the success of others,” he pointed out, “Some subjects are just harder for different people. I’m sure some of those freshmen would drown in the introductory potions classes you tested out of.”
Kuroo wrinkled his nose, clearly annoyed with Akaashi’s sensible reassurance. “Yeah, well, either way, they won’t give me my degrees if I can’t pass this class. And right now my prospects are grim.”
Akaashi nodded sagely. “Have you considered finding a tutor?”
Kuroo furrowed his brow, casting a deeply unamused look at the boy sitting across from him.
Akaashi put up a hand in defense. “I know it can be hard to ask for help when you feel like you should be able to do it yourself,” he ceded, “But it’s perfectly okay. Certainly better than failing a class because you were too scared or too proud to seek a little extra support.”
Kuroo pursed his lips, mumbling something under his breath.
“What was that?”
“I said, I don’t want anyone to think I’m dumb.”
Akaashi made a thoughtful noise. “You’ve tutored plenty of other students, did you ever think they were dumb for not understanding something right away? For needing a little extra time and help?”
Kuroo’s pout deepened. He knew he’d been cornered.
Akaashi quirked a brow. He wanted an answer.
Kuroo whined. “No, I don’t think the students I tutor are dumb. But that’s different, I should–”
Akaashi clicked his tongue, stopping Kuroo before he could make any excuses. “It’s no different at all,” Akaashi said, “You need a little extra help, and that’s perfectly okay.”
Kuroo flipped onto his back once more, letting his limbs flop helter-skelter. He let out a deep, world-weary sigh. “Where am I even going to find a tutor for Ceremonial Magic 101.”
Akaashi tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I think Hinata’s roommate is a ritual magics major,” he mused, “I’m sure he could tell us if he’d be willing to help you.”
Just then, the front door to the apartment slammed open. Neither of the boys in the living room flinched, well accustomed to the all-too-frequent occurrence.
Bokuto strolled into the room whistling some popular song with a bounce in his step. He froze when he noticed the room’s occupants, eyes brightening with delight.
“Hey hey hey!” He crowed, clearly excited to find he wasn’t coming home to an empty apartment, “What’re you two doing here!”
“Kuroo lives here, Bokuto,” Akaashi pointed out as his boyfriend flew across the room to grab his face and litter it with joyful kisses.
Bokuto laughed, “Well yeah, but then what are you doing here?”
“We planned to make dinner together before I help you with your charms project tonight. You didn’t forget, did you?”
Bokuto took on a power stance, jamming a thumb to his chest. “Who, me? Forget a date with my perfect boyfriend?” He threw his head back and let out a jovial laugh. “I would never!”
“Of course you wouldn’t,” Akaashi agreed, watching on fondly as Bokuto twisted to look at his best friend.
“Hey, Tetsu, whatcha lookin’ so glum for?”
“Kuroo needs to find a tutor for Ceremonial Magic.”
“Ah, is that it?” Bokuto crouched beside the couch, poking at his best friend’s ribs. “Well that’s no reason to be so down! Akaashi tutors me all the time!”
Kuroo made a disgruntled noise, half-heartedly slapping his best friend’s hand away.
“Do you know anything about Hinata’s roommate, Bokuto?” Akaashi asked.
“Oh, yeah!” Bokuto cried, jumping up to full height. “Shorty’s roommate would be perfect! I think his name is Kenma? He tutored Yamamoto in his ritual divination class!” He bent over at the waist to ruffle his best friend’s messy hair. “He said the guy was pretty quiet and a little awkward, but he ended up acing his final! You should definitely ask Hinata to introduce you.”
A subtle narrowing of Kuroo’s eyes was the only warning Bokuto had before his best friend lurched forward and dragged him down onto the couch. “Would you shut up already?” Kuroo growled, wrestling Bokuto underneath of him, “Can’t you see I’m trying to mope here?”
Akaashi sighed as the two grappled for the upper hand on a couch far too small for their antics. “I’ll just go get dinner started, then,” he said, smiling as he stood to leave the room.
❈❈❈❈❈
Okay, honestly? Screw Bokuto and Akaashi.
Kuroo stood just outside the door to the study room he’d booked in the library. The door was basically just one big window, so he had a perfectly clear view of his new tutor sitting at one of the tables across the room.
He was cute.
Kuroo briefly considered turning right back around to leave and give his “friends” a lecture about common courtesy. I mean, what kind of assholes can’t give a guy a heads up? “Oh yeah, by the way, the guy’s super beautiful, just so you know.” Like, really? Was that too much to ask?
Just as Kuroo started his escape-pivot, drafting a “sorry I couldn’t make it, I woke up sick” text in his head, Kenma looked up from his phone. He gave Kuroo a little wave, his expression perfectly neutral. Damn, he’d been spotted.
Squaring his shoulders, Kuroo pulled the door open and plastered on his signature confident grin. He could do this. Everything would be totally fine.
“You’re Kuroo?”
Mayday. Mayday. He was absolutely in no way whatsoever going to be fine.
Kenma’s voice was low and smooth, a little airy. He sounded a bit bored, but in an alarmingly attractive way.
Kuroo cleared his throat and tossed his bag into an empty chair. “The one and only!”
The one and only?!? Really?? What kind of loser ass–
“It’s nice to meet you,” Kuroo said, settling into a chair across from Kenma.
Kenma made a little noise of agreement and set his phone aside. “Let’s go ahead and get started then,” he said, tucking his hair behind his ear, “Did you bring your quizzes and exams?”
Kuroo nodded, digging into his bag to grab them. Bokuto really hadn’t been kidding when he said Kenma would probably just jump right into tutor-mode. Kuroo normally took a few minutes to chat with his new students, trying to get to know them at least a little so he could make sure they were comfortable and get a read on how they might best respond to help.
“Please don’t judge me too harshly,” he asked, handing his papers over to Kenma, “I promise I’m not normally this dumb.”
Kenma hummed a little, shuffling through Kuroo’s tragically marked assessments. “You don’t have to worry about it,” he said gently, “I just want to see what you’ve been having trouble with.”
Kuroo let out an awkward laugh, reaching behind himself to scratch at the back of his neck. “I mean, basically all of it.”
He watched as Kenma scanned quickly through the pages. His eyes were a warm, honeyed amber, framed perfectly by long, curled lashes. Kuroo looked for any trace of what Kenma might be thinking as he reviewed the shamefully low scores, but his expression was unreadable.
“I wouldn’t say it’s all bad,” Kenma pointed out. “You’re consistent in your errors, and it seems like most of what you struggle with is in the details. I’d say you have a pretty good grasp on most of the basic concepts.”
“Really?” Kuroo asked, leaning in to get a look at whatever Kenma was seeing in his ability that he had obviously missed.
Kenma nodded. “It looks like you need the most help with clearing up the differences between concepts and remembering when to account for environmental factors in ritual design.”
“Oh, is that all,” Kuroo said, unable to hide the apprehension in his tone. Kenma was clearly a genius in rituals if he’d figured out Kuroo’s problems so quickly. There was no way someone who picked up a subject so naturally would be able to teach him how to study it.
At least, that’s what he’d thought.
Kenma was a very patient and perceptive teacher. He was quiet, but more observant than shy. He quickly figured out how to explain concepts in a way that made sense to Kuroo, keeping a list of things they would need to work on together and things Kuroo should practice more on his own.
The only bad thing about him as a tutor was his rather distracting beauty.
His hair was long and soft, brushing his collar bone every time he pointed to something in Kuroo’s notes or textbook. His fingers were long and slender, his skin smooth and nails well manicured. His nose was delicate and wrinkled perfectly whenever he paused to think of a better way to explain something. His lips were the most delicious shade of pink and Kuroo was alarmed at how quickly he imagined what it would be like to kiss them. Kenma was so little, he would have to bend over so far to–
Kuroo slammed the lid shut on those thoughts. He didn’t need to get all hot and bothered for his tutor ten minutes into meeting him. He directed all of his energy toward focusing on his lesson, leaving his mind absolutely no room to wander. Mostly.
Before Kuroo knew it, their hour was up. Kenma took a picture of the list he’d been keeping for Kuroo, then handed him the sheet so he would know what to review before their next session.
“If you want, we can also meet regularly to do your homework. I can work on my own studies while you practice, but I’m happy to sit with you so you can ask questions as they come up.” Luckily, Kenma was flicking through notifications on his phone, so he probably missed the way Kuroo’s eyes lit up at the offer. Hopefully.
“Yes.” Kuroo said, way too quickly. He winced. “I mean, yes, I would like that. I mean, that would probably be really helpful. Definitely.” He scrambled over his words in an attempt to not sound obviously desperate to spend more time with Kenma, but the sustained screaming in the back of his head made that difficult. Why couldn’t he just be normal? He’d spoken to plenty of attractive people before, no problem!
He stood, nearly knocking over his chair in his hurry to leave. He needed to get away, fast. “I’ll just, uh, text you later, then? We can figure out our schedules.”
Kenma simply nodded, seeming unphased by Kuroo’s incredibly awkward behavior. “It was nice meeting you,” he murmured, the tiniest hint of a smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “I hope I can prove to be helpful.”
Kuroo felt his face heating up. He was desperate to leave before he made a fool of himself in front of this gorgeous man. “Yeah,” he said, voice cracking a bit. He cleared his throat. “It was nice meeting you too. Thanks for everything.”
He tripped a little over a chair as he hurried out of the room, dead set on finding Akaashi and Bokuto as quickly as possible so he could wring their necks.
❈❈❈❈❈
Kuroo tried his best to remain aloof and casual around Kenma. He really did. He’d done that for any other crush in the past and it had always served him well, his disinterest only drawing them in.
Kenma, as it turned out, had him beaten at his own game. And he hated how well it worked on him.
Kuroo had arranged a schedule for them to meet twice a week outside of their formal tutoring sessions so he could get help with his homework. He spent most of their time together actually working on his homework, honestly. He didn’t want Kenma to think he wasn’t trying.
But he also spent a lot of time trying to get to know him.
To be fair, Kenma wasn’t a big talker, and Kuroo didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable. So, a lot of his “getting to know” Kenma was just watching him. In a totally not-creepy way. There was no way Kenma noticed anyway, since he spent most of their time together with his eyes glued to his computer, his phone, or a book. So, plenty of opportunity for Kuroo to look on uninhibited.
He learned that Kenma had a habit of chewing on his lip whenever his work was confusing him. He constantly tucked his hair behind his ear, only for it to fall back around his face seconds later. Kuroo wondered why he didn’t just wear a hair tie, but he wasn’t about to say anything. It was a cute tic. He tended to pout if he couldn’t clear some obstacle in his game and he had a habit of picking at the eraser on his pencil when he was concentrating. He also usually wore sweatshirts and jackets about two sizes too large for him, so his hands only ever just peeked out of the sleeves. He tended to fiddle with the drawstrings whenever he was stressed or got tired of talking.
Kuroo paid a lot of attention to those drawstrings.
He always had a water bottle with him, it always had lemons in it, and he never touched it. When Kuroo pointed this out, Kenma explained that Hinata made him a bottle each morning before he left. He insisted it was good for Kenma and he needed to drink more water, but he usually forgot about it all day so he had to chug it all before he walked back into their apartment.
His backpack was littered with enamel pins of video game characters, cats, electronics company logos, and aesthetically pleasing ritual symbols. Again, most of them were from Hinata. Kuroo wasn’t feeling particularly fond of Hinata.
When he couldn’t hold back any longer, and whenever Kenma wasn’t fiddling with his hoodie strings, Kuroo tried to get him to open up. It took him a while to figure out the best way to get Kenma to talk about himself, but Kuroo was nothing if not persistent. After only a few homework and tutoring sessions, Kuroo knew just how to make him speak.
He learned that Kenma was indeed a ritual magics major and had plans to work as a priest at the Nekoma City Temple (the very same temple Kuroo dreamed of working in!). When Kuroo asked why Kenma wanted to work there, since it was such a large and heavily trafficked temple, Kenma had explained that a lot of the priests didn’t have to interact with the public very often. Besides, he really liked ceremonial magic–it was like a complex game. Everything had to be just right.
He learned that Kenma was a junior and had a preference for apple-flavored treats. He had been good friends with Hinata since high school (Friends. Friends was a very good word. Kuroo liked that word. Friends.) and wasn’t very good at natural magics like alchemy or potion making. He preferred to do his homework as soon as it was assigned so it wouldn’t pile up, but didn’t get a lot of sleep because he usually lost track of time playing games. He stayed in most weekends, but he would go watch the school’s volleyball team play whenever there were home games.
Kuroo eventually worked up the courage to start texting Kenma about more than just his ceremonial magic woes. He found that Kenma was a little harder to read through text, but he also seemed more comfortable sharing things about himself.
For example, he loved scary movies as long as they weren’t too gorey. He wanted to adopt a cat desperately, but he knew they weren’t allowed in the temple’s dormitory, so he was considering fostering a few cats through his senior year. He was terrible at keeping plants alive. He’d always wanted to visit the mainland but had never gotten the chance, and he loved summer because he got to go to so many festivals with his mom.
Kuroo was falling. Hard.
❈❈❈❈❈
Today was the day.
There were only two weeks left until finals, then one until graduation. That meant there wasn’t a lot of time left for tutoring sessions with Kenma, or seeing Kenma at all if he didn’t act fast.
He was going to ask him out.
He’d spent hours anguishing over the right way to do it with Bokuto and Akaashi.
Bokuto insisted he needed to pull out all the stops.
“When I asked Akaashi out, I charmed paper butterflies to find him randomly throughout the day and give him compliments! Then I took him to the conservatory on west campus and asked him to tell me which flower he thought was the prettiest. I used one of the spells he taught me to duplicate his favorite one, got down on one knee, and asked him to be my boyfriend!”
Akaashi disagreed.
“While I certainly cherish my memories from that day, it sounds to me like you need to be a little more subtle with Kenma. You wouldn’t want to overwhelm him and end up pushing him away.”
Akaashi suggested Kuroo simply wait until the end of their lesson to do it, so that Kenma could politely decline and leave if he wanted to without making things awkward. He should confess his feelings and tell Kenma that he would like to pursue a relationship with him beyond teacher and student.
“Akaashiiiiiii you’re so old fashioned and boring!” Bokuto had whined.
Kuroo chose to take a middle of the road approach, which meant he was mostly going to follow Akaashi’s advice, but add a little flair to keep Bokuto from getting upset.
He was going to just come right out and tell Kenma he really liked him, and he’d love to get dinner with him after they were done with finals. If he accepted, he would give him a little paper cat that Bokuto had helped him charm to perch on Kenma’s shoulder and rustle in a way that almost sounded like purring.
It would be perfect.
The only problem was that today’s tutoring session was in one of the ritual practice rooms so Kenma could help him prepare for his practical exam. The rooms were notorious for their romantic, intimate atmosphere, what with all the candles and incense. So, Kuroo just needed to make it one hour in a dim, windowless room with the most stunning and sweet man he had ever met without panicking.
Should be fine.
Kenma greeted him outside the practice room with the tiny smile Kuroo had grown to love so much. He wasn’t wearing one of his signature baggy sweatshirts, having opted instead for a plain, long-sleeved t-shirt. When Kuroo complimented him on the change of pace (trying desperately not to think about how good Kenma’s waist looked), Kenma explained that his sweatshirts would just get in the way of the chalk drawings. Besides, it was always nice and warm in the practice rooms anyway.
Warm, he said? Kuroo had to laugh. It was sweltering.
Granted, it may have just been that his heart rate didn’t slow from light speed the entire time. Kenma followed him around the room quietly, like a little shadow floating just behind him. He was watching Kuroo closely as he practiced the ritual, which only made it harder for Kuroo to concentrate. Anytime he caught sight of Kenma’s patient little smile his mind blanked out and rebooted.
“Remember, you need to light the candles in the right order,” Kenma prompted gently when Kuroo had one such shut-down after lighting his first candle. He definitely thought Kuroo was just panicking about the proper steps. No way he could tell Kuroo had gotten distracted by the way Kenma’s eyes flashed and glowed golden in the candlelight.
When they got to drawing the chalk circle, Kuroo nearly stopped breathing altogether. Kenma leaned over him as Kuroo crouched to scratch the right symbols on the floor. He could smell the fresh, bright aroma of Kenma’s shampoo. It was intoxicating. Then, Kenma knelt beside him.
“Your grip on the chalk is too light,” he murmured. “Your lines will be too patchy for the ritual to work. Here, try it like this.” He then proceeded to reach for Kuroo’s hand, wrapping his thin, delicate fingers around Kuroo’s to demonstrate how he should be holding the chalk and how hard he should be pressing it into the ground.
Kuroo’s heart leapt into his throat and his stomach flipped. He thought for a brief, horrifying moment that he might throw up. Then Kenma let his hand go and encouraged him to try on his own. His skin was buzzing with so much energy it was hard to keep his lines as straight as he would have liked, but Kenma seemed pleased enough with his technique.
Once Kuroo was done, he stepped back and checked his work. He’d placed the candles all in the right spots. Each line and symbol in the circle was drawn carefully and with the proper spacing and orientation to account for the positions of the planets. All that was left was to light the incense and chant the appropriate incantation. He told Kenma as much, and the smaller boy looked up at him and smiled.
“You did well, Kuroo,” he said softly, voice low and encouraging. “I’m proud of you.”
Shivers raced down Kuroo’s spine. He found himself clenching his hands into fists at his sides to keep them from shaking. It was now or never.
“Kenma, there’s something I want to tell you,” Kuroo began. He moved to take a step back, not wanting to crowd Kenma during his confession.
Kenma tilted his head ever so slightly to listen, but then his eyes flashed as Kuroo shifted his weight back. “Kuroo wait, there’s a–!”
As Kuroo stepped down, he realized too late he’d left one of the pieces of ceremonial chalk on the floor. Instead of touching down on solid ground, his heel rolled out from under him. He yelped as he was thrown off balance.
Kenma lurched forward, grabbing onto Kuroo’s hand to try to help him stay upright. Unfortunately, Kenma was a little too slow and a little too small.
They toppled.
Kuroo hit the ground pretty hard, instantly winded by the force of the blow to his back. Kenma was dragged down on top of him, only just managing to throw his hands out in time to keep their faces from smashing together. Even so, their chests were pressed flush together, Kenma’s narrow hips trapped snugly between Kuroo’s thighs.
Kuroo’s willpower snapped.
“Oh, sorry, this is–”
“I like you!” Kuroo blurted. He gasped, clapping his hands over his mouth immediately as a light flush spread over Kenma’s cheeks.
“Oh my gods, oh my gods, I am so, so sorry,” Kuroo choked, scrambling to fix the situation. He squirmed in an attempt to get out from underneath Kenma, a process made near impossible given that Kenma hadn’t moved an inch. “That’s not how I was supposed to–I mean, I was going to ask if you–”
Kenma pressed a hand to Kuroo’s shoulder, freezing him in place.
“It’s alright,” he whispered, leaning in close, “I like you too.”
The little blond hovered for a moment, giving Kuroo a chance to stop him if he wished, before closing what little distance remained between them and pressing their lips together.
Kuroo definitely flatlined.
Kenma was a light, welcome weight on top of him and everywhere they touched Kuroo’s skin burned. Their lips slotted together perfectly, Kenma’s even softer and more wonderful than Kuroo had imagined. Kuroo propped himself up on one elbow so he could press even closer to the perfect boy on top of him. He reached up with his other hand to tuck Kenma’s hair behind his ear, just as he had watched the boy do on his own so many times before. He rested his hand on Kenma’s cheek, warm and soft beneath his touch.
Kenma was the first to pull back, panting slightly.
“Now,” he said, breathy and distracted, “What was it you wanted to ask me?”
“Dinner. With me. Yes?” Kuroo cringed as the words tumbled out of his mouth, but he was surprised he was able to muster even minimal coherency.
Kenma smiled, a real, honest smile that stole away what was left of Kuroo’s breath. He leaned in close once more, and spoke in a low whisper against Kuroo’s lips.
“Yes.”