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It's crazy how fast it happened.
It was one of those nights where Kuroo was messing up his sleeping schedule yet again to chase his paperwork's deadline, and Kenma was up because, well, he never really does go to bed at godly hours in the first place. It was also one of those rare occurrences where Kenma was hungry and he had asked Kuroo to fry some eggs for him. An unusual sight, the two of them in the kitchen at 3 a.m., blasting music from Kuroo’s phone and snacking on carrots, Kenma sitting on top of the kitchen counter while Kuroo cracked the eggs perfectly into the frying pan.
“Been a while since we last did this, huh?” Kuroo said, a fond smile on his face as he watches his eggs cook.
“You’re the one who became a health junkie after post-grad,” the younger man mumbled out, lips pouting to accentuate the baby carrot in his mouth to prove his point, not looking up from the game he is playing on his Switch. Kuroo tuts and he just rolled his eyes. It’s not like Kenma was wrong. Kuroo now was annoyingly buff, the result of his daily morning runs and going to the gym at least twice a week, and of course whatever diet he’s trying or protein shakes he’s taking, he will somehow force it on Kenma as well.
But well, Kenma was grateful. If it wasn’t for Kuroo forcing him to eat his kale and carrots, his eyesight would have probably been as bad as his bowels.
“Hey, you know what? I think it’s unfair that I am slaving away cooking for you and you’re just playing games and ignoring me,” the older man turned towards him, hands on his waist, the way Kenma’s mom would when she caught him snivelling around their refrigerator looking for sweets. Kuroo spent too much time with his mother that he can feel her presence in the little things Kuroo does. Kenma hid his amusement, faking a small yawn to mask the smile he can feel creeping in his face.
“You’re just making stir-fry ramen, Kuro. What do you need me for?”
“I don’t know, moral support? At least help me slice the sausages up.” Kenma rolled his eyes at his boyfriend but switched off his console anyway, placing it on top of the fridge before doing as Kuroo said. Kenma thought he was being a pain in the ass, but Kenma was also not in the mood to make Kuroo’s life difficult at the asscrack of dawn.
The next song on the playlist played, and Kenma recognized it as the one Kuroo liked to sing along to the past few days, the first few notes of the song soft and subtle, easy on the ears in early mornings such as this.
“... move to Canada …”
Kuroo hummed absentmindedly to the song, his hands now working on straining the ramen from the boiler. His own hands stopped slicing the sausages, hovering over the chopping board as he watched Kuroo struggle to not waste any ramen noodles by pouring the ramen as well as the excess water into the sink. His already messy hair was even more in a disheveled state from not showering for a few days now, falling into his eyes.
Kenma thinks it’s endearingly gross.
“Kenma, are you done? I want to fry them before the noodles get cold.” Kuroo’s voice grounded him back to reality, and he was glad he pulled himself together before Kuroo could catch him staring. The man already has a colossal ego, believing himself to be the Don Juan when it comes to captivating Kenma, he couldn’t afford to blow more fuel into that fire. “What are you daydreaming about?” the older man asked, as he took over Kenma’s task with the sausages.
“Nothing.” Was Kenma’s quiet reply, disappearing into the silence of a cold 4 am morning.
As Kuroo was looking over the fried sausages on the pan, Kenma leaned forward on the kitchen table, his hands tucked under his chin as he watched Kuroo work, the song serving as background music for the man.
Kenma never sees himself as a sentimental man, let alone a romantic. Kuroo has enough of that for the both of them as it is. He actually takes pride in the fact he rarely lets his emotions take control of his decisions, preferring to rely on logic and having a solid strategy.
So the thought of proposing to Kuroo had never even crossed his mind, even after years of relationship with the older man.
Oh, he loves Kuroo. Kuroo is the only person who has seen him at his best and his worst, witnessing all his highs and lows, and he had been the only person to have stayed through it all. He never overstepped any line, although after years of being by each other’s side Kenma doesn’t think there is any such thing bounding between the two of them anymore. Kuroo understands him, never asking for more than what he knows Kenma can give, and that selflessness was almost painful to watch from the younger’s perspective.
Kuroo was ready to throw his life away for Kenma if he asked.
It should feel like a burden, really.
Having someone love you so overwhelmingly like that. Knowing what kind of power you hold over this one person, knowing that even if you turn on him he wouldn’t even hate you after. It did feel like a burden, at first.
Then the more time Kenma spent thinking about this, the more he realized how dumb he must have sounded at first.
Kenma having some kind of power over Kuroo? Sure, that sounded accurate.
But, annoyingly, the older man also holds some power over him .
Kenma was just as in love with Kuroo as he was with him. His insides were just as all over the place when Kuroo so much as smiles his way, his heart threatening to give out when Kuroo holds him tight, the stupid fucking butterflies in his stomach when he thinks about Kuroo still making him sick to the point of vomiting.
“That could be us …”
Kuroo continued to sing along to the English lyrics of the song, as Kenma got himself lost in his thoughts with Kuroo's deep voice lulled him in the background.
He loves Kuroo. And Kenma was sure he would love Kuroo for years to come. Lifetimes, even. He doesn’t think there is anyone else in this world he can love the same way he loves the tall, cocky bastard.
It’s frightening, really, to hold someone’s heart in your hand, and to have yours in theirs.
“That could be you and me.”
So, yes. Kenma definitely loves Kuroo.
He doesn’t intend to propose not because he doesn’t want to get married to Kuroo. Married or not, it doesn’t matter to him as long as he gets to be by his side. A piece of paper stating that they are legally bound to each other and a huge event that he just knows will be a pain in the ass does not really sell the idea of being married to him.
But Kenma knows Kuroo; knows that above all that cool guy facade, he wants to be able to refer to themselves as husbands. Kenma notices the quirk of Kuroo’s lips when talking about his friends getting hitched and the way his eyes lingers on wedding tuxedos they see in a wedding boutique walking down the street. He knows that to Kuroo, marriage is a big deal.
So, Kenma decided to leave all the decisions to Kuroo. If he ever decided to marry Kenma, he would leave it to him. Let Kuroo pop the question when he thinks he is ready.
Was what Kenma thought, months ago when he attended Hinata’s wedding.
“Eh? You have no plans of getting married?”
“No. Kuro is getting a lot of attention for his research work right now so he is spending a lot of time in the lab,” Kenma said in his usual disinterested manner but Hinata saw the way the older guy was very proud of his boyfriend’s career, evident from the small upwards tug of his lips, the way the lines around his eyes relaxed in a downturning slope, eyes softening thinking of his boyfriend who made his heart swell with pride.
“And what about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Are you fine just waiting for Kuroo-san?”
“Eh, I don’t know. No offense, but I don’t really care about marriage.”
“Hm,” Hinata hummed, a knowing smile stretching over his lips. “I think you two will be just fine.”
Hinata’s words had been vague then, and Kenma really hadn’t given the idea of proposing marriage on his own account a thought before.
Now, though.
Now there was an overwhelming urge to officially make Kuroo a part of his family. A part of him. To officially declare him as his. As his husband.
The thought of the word sent shivers down his spine, and he shuddered.
Kuroo, of course, took notice of this.
“You okay, kitten? Need me to turn the heating up?”
“No, I’m alright.”
Kenma attempted to hide his face, cheeks flushing at the thought of Kuroo as his husband.
Nothing would change, not really. They’re already living together for four years, dated for ten years, and have known each other for longer. Nothing would change, Kenma knows this.
They had fallen in love slowly, perpetually. It didn't just happen straight away, none of that whirlwind romance or some crappy soulmate bullshit - although Kuroo would argue on that. It was just the two of them then, growing feelings as they stayed by each other's sides, learning their quirks and falling in love with one another on a hot Saturday weekend. When he looked back, their love story seemed like it had existed there forever, just waiting for the two of them to acknowledge it. The days it took for them to cross the line of being friends and being something else, was a long one. It was slow, the way they fell in love, and Kenma was uncertain a lot of times, but Kuroo had promised that nothing will ever change his feelings for him. Nothing will ever have to change between the two of them, that they will always be 'Kuro and Kenma'.
It took a long time, and of course over the years they have both went through inevitable change, grown into the men that they were today, but they were still Kuro and Kenma, and Kenma was sure that even after marriage they would still be Kuro and Kenma.
Except that now they will be living together as husbands. Rightfully so. As it should be.
Kenma couldn’t wait. He couldn’t wait for Kuroo to grow some balls before proposing to Kenma, couldn’t even wait until tomorrow once he had slept on this thought and maybe get a nice engagement ring for Kuroo, he couldn’t.
“Kuro,”
His mouth was faster than his brain, working on the account of his wildly beating heart.
Oh god, the last time he felt this nervous was on his first official date with Kuroo after the older man confessed and asked him out.
The man in question looked up from his ramen, quirking a brow up, his cheeks puffed with ramen and sauce smearing at the corner of his lips. Kenma inwardly grimaced, unfairly condemning Kuroo for his nasty eating habits when he was, if not worse, just as bad.
But even Kuroo’s hideous table manners couldn’t stop him from saying what he wanted to say at that time.
“Marry me,”
Kuroo’s reaction was… amusing to say the least.
It was as if he was short-circuiting, the half-chewed noodle in his mouth falling past his lips as his jaws went slack.
It was disgusting, but at least he didn’t choke on anything. That would have been very concerning to Kenma.
“You-- What?”
The man splutters, reaching for the kitchen roll to wipe his mouth.
“Marry me. I want you to marry me,”
Kenma was sure what he was asking was not something too out of this world for Kuroo to have this big of a reaction. They both know marriage was never out of question between the two of them. But, well, this is Kuroo, who does have a knack for dramatics and blowing things out of proportion even when there is no need for it.
It took a few minutes and a long gulp of water before Kuroo could even voice out his response.
“You can’t do that, Kenma! I- I was already planning shit, and I even got a ring! You can’t just propose out of nowhere, without a ring!”
Kuroo’s eyes widened when he realized he accidentally let slip of how he had been planning to propose as well.
Although, again, it’s not like Kenma doesn’t know about it.
“How am I supposed to prepare one when I only thought of it five minutes ago?”
“That’s the thing, you can’t-” Kuroo huffs, his face going redder by the second. “Nevermind,” he said, turning his face away from Kenma, embarrassed of being caught acting like a child.
“I’m sorry,” the younger man offered, actually feeling a little guilty.
It was quiet for a while, as Kenma stared blankly into the other man’s face, looking for signs of actual distress and eased when he saw Kuroo wasn’t as visibly upset as Kenma thought he would be. He didn’t want Kuroo to think he was invalidating Kuroo’s feelings about marriage or making fun of it, that’s the last thing he will ever do, hurting Kuroo.
Kenma peeked at the man, trying to catch his gaze and purposely widened his eyes to achieve the kicked puppy look. It wasn’t long before the dark-haired man yielded, cracking a smile at Kenma’s attempt to earn his apology.
“It’s alright, baby. It’s stupid anyways-- getting worked up over something this silly,”
“You can still propose to me, you know. It’s not like I ruined the surprise,”
“But now you would know that I want to get married to you,” Kuroo frowned, and it’s cute. Ridiculously cute, Kenma thinks. Kuroo was a grown man. It shouldn’t be even possible to look so freaking cute when he is almost 27, with his hair prematurely greying and constant dark circles painted under his eyes.
“You seriously think I don’t know that?” Kenma deadpanned. “But… will you?” Kenma prodded, his sudden insecurity kicking in as his fingers searched for Kuroo’s, slipping into his hold easily. Kuroo closed his fingers around Kenma’s thin ones. A soft smile graced his lips, and Kenma found that he couldn’t take his eyes off of it. He is ridiculously, ridiculously smitten for Kuroo.
“Marry you? Of course. I love you, I would marry you a million times if I could,”
There it was again, the easy declaration of love falling out of Kuroo’s mouth. Kenma seriously wondered how naturally it came to Kuroo, admitting his feelings for him and putting his heart out in the open, time and time again. One would think that when words of love were said one too many times, it started to lose the weight behind it.
Kenma never felt that way about Kuroo, though, or any of Kuroo’s ‘I love you’s.
“You’re so ridiculous,” the younger said, blush spreading across his cheeks, a reaction so involuntary Kenma wished he had some psychic abilities to have control over his brain.
Kuroo raised himself up from his seat, leaning over the table and their supper (or early breakfast?) to plant a kiss on the top of Kenma’s head, his lips softly brushing over the warm skin.
“I love you, kitten.”
The warmth spread from where Kuroo’s lips touched, and the blush ran deeper, down to his neck. He angled his face downwards so he could hide his blush and avoid looking into Kuroo’s eyes and seeing the irrefutable truth in his words. Kenma knew that. He really did not have to say that to him every freaking time. He knows Kuroo loves him, overwhelmingly so.
He wondered if it’s selfish, to want to be loved by Kuroo like this for the rest of his life.
“I really do. Love you, I mean,”
“Kuro, I get it, cut it out already, you’re so embarrassing,”
“Thank you for wanting to marry me,”
The younger looked up then, his long hair falling out of his bun in a cascade of messy black and blonde, and took Kuroo’s face in his hands, closing the gap between them as he brought their lips together.
He loves kissing Kuroo.
It was warm, both his hands on Kuroo’s cheeks, and Kuroo’s lips on him. Warm and comforting. As it always was with him. The older man was smiling against his lips, he could feel it, and though the angle was a little awkward, the morning too cold, but at that moment his heart felt so full.
Ah, he is so in love.
Delirious too, for the lack of sleep, but still very much in love nonetheless.
“I love you, Kuro,”
For his soon-to-be husband.