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"Kitkat you know i hate when we fight."
"Then why are trying to start one?"
"Hey. Cut that shit out and listen to me for a sec, kay? It's not like I'm tryin to start a fight, it's just you're gettin angry for no reason. How am i supossed to react to that huh?"
"If you think it's for no reason then you've already missed the point."
"So tell me! I'm not a goddamn psychic okay? I'm a man! Just a dumb, piece of shit man that can't read your mind so excuse me for being a little frustrated!"
"Kuro.."
Tetsurou wasn't sure when his voice got so loud.
A moment of silence passed through the room, the kind of sound that was normal for a bedroom to make at three in the morning when two people are very much in love.
Moans at two, silence at three; those are the rules when two perfectly sane people share a space. Of course there was some wiggle room. On any given workday it would be perfectly acceptable to pencil in the moans at eleven and shift silence down to twelve. That way, the breadwinner of the house could pop off and doze off all while getting enough sleep to jump straight to their corporate prison by 7am, and share facebook memes by a water cooler with people they imagine dead at least several times a day.
But this wasn't normal. And it definitely wasn't on schedule. 3am is for silence. It's for dreaming. It's for inching just a little bit closer to the warm body with it's arms around their waist. It is most certainly not the time for the most uncomfortable conversation either one of them had ever had the displeasure of dealing with.
Despite all that, for a brief moment theres silence--and it allows for some much needed time to process.
Tetsurou thought Kenma looked incredibly fragile curled up on the bed, like something you'd hang on a Christmas tree. On the top branch though--unbreakable to children and pets, but not immune to tall adults that may have had one too many.
Maybe Kenma would have laughed at the observation. Maybe it would have caused another fight. The thing about Christmas ornaments is that they're a little sharper than eggshells when they break.
This was Kenma after all. Fragile or not, they had both the perception and the wit to cut through anyone if they felt they had to.
Nothing could get by them, especially Tetsurou's persistence in claiming everything was fine. To be anything but brutally honest around Kenma was at most a death wish, and at least a budding strain on their relationship. All this combined meant navigating conversation felt a little less like walking on eggshells and a little more like walking through a minefield in the dark.
It goes something like this:
Kuroo has a problem, Kenma picks up on it.
Kuroo insists everything is fine, Kenma calls him on it.
Kuroo gets defensive, Kenma picks the wound.
Kuroo gets pissed, Kenma leaves.
Wash, rinse, and repeat.
But Kenma hadn't left yet, and it left him wondering if things would be any different this time.
However, the thought was cut off when Kenma's brows scrunched at the intensity of being examined. The look of disdain was enough to snap him out of his daze, realizing he'd been dissociating for who know's how long.
His guts were tied in knots and his thoughts were running laps, but by choice or by miracle, Kenma was still there and that's what mattered. They were giving him a second chance.
He hadn't a clue where to start to make things better, but he figured he could at least address the disgusted stare currently burning a hole through his head.
"I can't stand this Kenma.. I've known you since we were kids. Now you're lookin at me like I'm rollerskatin naked through Time Square."
"If that were the case I'd probably look more amused."
The tiniest hint of a smile. It's not much, but with how tense the room was moments ago, he felt like taking a victory lap.
"Oh yeah? Then maybe I should go strap on some skates."