Archive of Our Own

“Good morning, your majesty,” Kuroo greeted, a huge smile plastered on his face as he threw the doors of the office open. A handful of people were present inside, ranging from the King to a random duke Kuroo doesn’t remember the name of. 

“Prince Tetsurou, you are late. Again ,” his Father growled, sitting at the head of the table with a scowl.

Kuroo’s smile just turned wider, bowing a little. “I apologize, Father, I was quite preoccupied with the majestic books I just unearthed in our massive library…”

“Just sit down,” the king barked, waving him away. 

“So, what are we talking about?” Kuroo took the empty seat at his father’s right, looking at the map unfurled on the table.

That jolted the captain of the guards into continuing his speech. Inuoka answered, “Our plans in beating the Fukurodani Empire in the battle for the Honshu planes, your highness.” 

Fukurodani Empire, one of the biggest empires in Nippon, the one they’ve had a love-hate relationship with in the last five centuries.

“Remind me again why we’re fighting over that?”

“It’s a very fertile land, it will greatly boost our agriculture, not to mention more space to transfer the villages near the creek…” Inuoka explained, tapping a finger at Honshu on the map, where a lot of tree symbols are scattered.

Kuroo nodded, crossing his arms across his chest. “And why does the Fukurodani Empire want it?”

“Probably for the same reasons?” Inuoka said, doubt coating his voice. He looked around the table, asking for help, no one wanted to be under the scrutiny of the crown prince, after all. 

They say he’s ten times smarter than his father, and he doesn’t take well to half-assed reports and plans.

“ Probably? ” the prince asked, raising an eyebrow at the captain.

They say he’s ten times more cruel too.

“I… well, I don’t really know, your highness...” Inuoka bowed his head, readying himself for the shout—or worse, the order for execution, and oh my god he’d just been appointed captain of the guards after his predecessor died from alcohol poisoning. His mother had been ecstatic.

Before Kuroo could open his mouth, though, a voice sounded in front of him, the left side of his father. 

“Your highness, they want it because apparently young Emperor Koutarou’s new husband’s favorite flowers are those of the Menziesia found in Honshu…”

Kozume Kenma, the head tactician of the royal family. He was the son of the former head tactician, had been sitting in war meetings since he was ten, and had been roaming the royal library much earlier than that. 

“That’s it?” Kuroo asked, smirking and putting his chin on his hand as he stared at Kenma’s golden eyes, unflinching unlike most of the people who came under the piercing look of the prince.

The entire room plunged into a familiar silence. In each and every meeting they’ve conducted where the crown prince and the head tactician had been present, it always had this unexplainable tension—like they’re always edging around each other’s lines.

“Emperor Koutarou is very impulsive, your highness, but their army is thrice as big as ours…” Kenma just answered, voice as nonchalant as ever.

Kuroo chuckled and shook his head, leaning back on his chair. “I can’t believe we’re going to battle because someone took a liking to fucking Menziesias…”

“Tetsurou, mind your language,” his Father grumbled half-heartedly. He’d long since given up on trying to instill a modicum of good manners on his son. Don’t get him wrong, though, Prince Tetsurou was a perfectly mannered son and person—that is, until he decided that he doesn’t like someone or something.

Which is why, the king thought, it’s a miracle that his son has never even breathed at Kenma the wrong way—given that the tactician had always been merciless during meetings, doesn’t give two shits about calling out a faulty plan and making a duke cry.

Everybody knew he’d kill just about anyone if it means it could ensure the survival of the Nekoma Kingdom.

“Well then… what’s our plan?” Kuroo asked.

“Your highness, we’re proposing that a partnership with… uh… with the Karasuno Kingdom will be the best course of action…” Inuoka said, snapping out of his nervousness, though still refusing to meet Kuroo’s look.

The prince’s eyebrows furrowed. He looked around the table, no one was able to meet his eye—except Kenma, so he looked at him. “And how do we do that?”

It was Kenma who answered, unwavering as he stared at the prince. “Karasuno’s Crown Princess Shimizu is currently looking for a husband…”

“Fancy seeing you here…” Kuroo suddenly sat in front of the table Kenma was sitting in, a wide grin on his face as per usual. One look behind his back confirmed Kenma’s suspicion that he probably escaped his guards again.

“Really?” Kenma marked the book he’s reading and closed it. “You didn’t purposely go out of the royal wedding arrangements early to escape to the library?”

“How did you know I was at that meeting?” Kuroo took the book Kenma was holding and flipped through it absentmindedly.

Kenma grabbed the book back, placing it on the table and putting his arms on it so Kuroo couldn’t take it. “Well, how did you know I’m at the library?”

The prince smirked at him, cocking his head to the side. “You’re always at the library.”

Kenma just rolled his eyes. “And you’re the groom-to-be, of course you’ll be at the meeting.”

Kuroo puffed, standing up from his seat and walking around the table, plopping beside Kenma with his legs on either side of the bench. “It was boring.”

“Did you atleast meet Princess Shimizu?”

“Nope…” Kuroo wrapped his hands around Kenma’s waist, pulling him closer until he’s against his chest, the familiar structures of their bodies clicking into place like they’ve done it a hundred times before. 

Kenma looked up at him and raised a reprimanding eyebrow.

“What? She’ll be here for a week, we have plenty of time to get acquainted.”

“And you don’t think knowing your future queen as early as possible is advantageous?” Kenma said, leaning against the prince’s chest, tracing the elaborate crest embroidery on his tunic.

“Not at all...” Kuroo whispered, lifting a hand to Kenma’s chin, angling it upward before pressing his lips against it.

It was slow, both of them too lazy to put actual pressure in it, just content at the mere contact of their lips. Until Kuroo’s hand snaked behind the back of Kenma’s neck, tangling itself into his dark roots and pressing his head closer.

Kenma gasped, but he immediately composed himself, opening his mouth wider to give Kuroo entry. The heat curling in his stomach was delicious, the way it always is whenever the prince held him close. 

He’s getting married soon, we can’t do this anymore… Kenma thought.

But they can still do it now. For now, the prince is still with him, still kissing him like he needed it to breathe.

Kenma pulled away, just slightly, and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t satisfied in the way the prince leaned forward, chasing his lips again.

“Kuro… sleep over tonight?” Kenma whispered, hand reaching up to run his fingers through Kuroo’s messy hair.

Instead of speaking, Kuroo just leaned down again, capturing Kenma’s lips in his.

That was answer enough.

Later that night, when the entire castle was quiet, and the song of the cicadas were echoing in the corridors, two bodies laid inside Kenma’s sleeping chambers—limbs tangled, skin against skin, sharing their body heat.

The prince pulled Kenma closer to his chest, an arm around his waist. With his other hand, he pulled Kenma’s long hair aside, exposing the skin on his neck and placing a tender kiss.

Kenma shivered in his touch, pressing closer against him.

“Are you ready to get married?” Kenma twisted, looking back at Kuroo.

This way, the moonlight streaming in from the open window illuminated his eyes, the gold glowing as he looked at the prince.

He really has such pretty eyes, he thought. Even when the bags under it were always present from sleepless nights going over plans.

“I don’t think I have a choice…” Kuroo said.

“That’s not an answer, your highness…”

Kuroo stared at him for a moment more, before leaning down to kiss him on the lips, their lips touching for a few seconds before he pulled away.

“I’m sleepy…” he said, burying his face on Kenma’s neck.

Kenma didn’t move for a second, before deciding to just let it go, so he cuddled against Kuroo again, closing his eyes and pretending he could fall asleep.

They’ve been friends since they were young—when Kenma was the only available playmate the prince had in the castle. Kenma didn’t want to play, originally, preferred to sit in war meetings and economic councils than attend puppet shows with the prince.

But Kuroo had ways in making people feel fond of him—he was charming and smart and fun to be with, and soon enough Kenma found himself enjoying the times spent together, looking forward to their playdates and then joint tutoring as they grew older. 

He found himself knocking on the door of the prince’s sleeping chambers more often than he cared to admit—lounging near the absurdly huge fireplace listening to Kuroo talk about his new hobbies.

They both didn’t know when their casual friendship turned to something like this. But it started this way: lingering stares, soft touches, riling each other up in the conference room, getting into a shouting match in a broom closet, making out in a broom closet .

Until Kuroo’s body was more familiar to Kenma than his own, until they got so used to each other it’s hard to imagine a time when they’re not like this.

But the prince is getting married now, Kenma thought. He’ll be kissing someone else, holding someone else, smiling at someone else, making love with someone else.

And they wouldn’t have to hide.

Kenma curled into himself, behind him, Kuroo was already sleeping soundly, his soft breath filling the silent room.

Kenma tried not to shake too much as he cried.

“Really a pleasure to meet you, Princess Shimizu.” Kuroo bowed his head, holding the princess’s hand in his and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

Shimizu smiled a little, pulling her hand away immediately. “It’s my pleasure, Prince Tetsurou… please, let me serve you some tea…” She gestured to the table set in the corner of the garden. A few meters away, her handmaid stood, head slightly bowed.

The silence was awkward, if Kuroo’s going to be honest, the silence hanging heavy in the air as they both ignore it and pretend they’re both comfortable. Kuroo sat there, sipping his tea and eating his cake, throwing looks at Shimizu who had a small furrow in her brows as she traced the swirling patterns on the table.

“Princess—“

“I need to tell you something.”

Kuroo closed his mouth slowly, settling on his seat, and nodded, gesturing for the princess to continue. He didn’t notice the panicked look of the handmaid, the exchange of glances between her and the princess.

Shimizu looked back at the guards standing quietly behind them. “Can you leave us for a bit?”

The guards exchanged glances, hesitant.

“It won’t take long,” Shimizu said, authority evident even when her voice was nothing but soft.

The guards nodded and bowed, saluting at Kuroo’s direction before walking away.

As soon as they were out of earshot, the handmaid stepped forward, eyes wide with unspoken warning.

“Princess—!”

“Yachi… I need to do it…” Shimizu said.

Kuroo looked at them both, teacup suspended in midair as he surveyed the tension between the two. Then he slowly, slowly, put the cup down with a soft clink, then crossed his arms, sitting back on his chair.

“You can’t! The king will be—”

“Yachi, I have to try…” Shimizu cut her off again, shaking her head. Her eyes were soft as she looked at the young blonde, and she whispered, “Let me try…”

The handmaid didn’t look like she approved, but she stepped back, bowing her head again.

Only then did the princess finally spared Kuroo a look.

“Mind filling me in?” the prince asked, an eyebrow raised.

Shimizu just met his look, her dark blue eyes unmoving. “I do not want to marry you, Prince Tetsurou.”

Kuroo’s eyebrow raised higher, and this time, he caught it when the handmaid—Yachi, flinched.

“And why is that?” he asked.

“I am…” Shimizu looked away, towards Yachi at the corner, and for a moment her eyes turned soft, before it hardened again when she looked at Kuroo. “I am already in love with someone…”

“Well, you know…” The prince scratched at his head, to the spot just below his crown, thinking of how to say his thoughts properly. “I’m not exactly thrilled with the whole marriage thing either, honestly, but—”

“You are doing it to win against Fukurodani, is that correct?” 

Kuroo sent her an irritated look, teeth grinding together. “I would appreciate it if you would not interrupt me while I’m speaking, princess.”

Yachi flinched again at the corner, but Shimizu just leveled her with a stare. She has faced men far more intimidating before—she is not going to be fazed by some crown prince.

“I apologize, your highness, but I can’t help it when you’re uttering such nonsense,” she said, venom in her voice.

“And what I was saying is nonsense because?”

Shimizu took a deep breath, leaning forward on the table, eyes wide like she’s daring Kuroo to contradict her. She whispered, “What are you gonna do if I say you can take the Honshu planes without the marriage? And without bloodshed, too.”

Without the marriage?

In a span of a few seconds, images filled Kuroo’s mind—lazy kisses, cuddles in the library, a small hand curling against his own, a slender body in his arms. Golden eyes glowing in the moonlight.

Kuroo blinked, looked at the princess with decided eyes.

“Tell me more.”

“Kuro?” It was at sunrise the day after when the prince slipped out of the castle together with the tactician, mounted their horses and set North. 

“Hm?” Kuroo’s hands were tight around the reins of his horse, his black hood casting shadows on his face.

“Mind telling me why we’re heading towards the Fukurodani Empire?” Kenma asked, eyes half-closed with sleepiness, Kuroo almost had to carry him all the way out of the castle. 

Kuroo just smirked at him, and he knew that smirk, things that happen after that smirk almost always gives the King a heart attack. “To make acquaintances…” 

Kenma just sighed, breath fogging in the chilly morning air. His thighs are gonna be so fucking sore when they get there.

“Welcome, welcome!” Emperor Bokuto beckoned for them to get inside the second circle of the castle, his kanmuri a little lopsided on his head, barely containing his silver gray hair. 

“I apologize for barging in like this, Your Imperial Majesty,” Kuroo said, bowing a little, Kenma was behind him, trying not to limp too much because the inside of his thighs was rubbed raw.

“No, no, I love guests. Just be grateful my husband recognized you, or our sentinels would’ve had your head on a stick by now…” The emperor boomed a laugh, the sound echoing inside the hall. 

“Uhhh…” Kuroo exchanged panic-stricken looks with Kenma. He didn’t really mean that… did he? Kuroo cleared his throat and bowed again as they walked. “Please express my gratitude to your husband…”

“He’ll be here in a moment, come, come, join us for dinner…” The emperor gestured for them to enter the tea room.

“Thank you, your majesty…” Kuroo was about to step inside the room when he felt a tug on his sleeve.

“Kuro…” There was a worried crease between Kenma’s eyebrows, and he looked around them, at the alert sentinels and samurais watching them. “What are we doing here?” 

Again, Kuroo just smiled at him, held the hand holding his sleeve inside his palms. “Just trust me…”

Kenma was hesitant, but the furrow between his eyebrows eased a bit, though he was still at high alert, and Kuroo saw his hand inching a little closer to the katana hidden beneath his cloak.

“Good evening, moon of my life… come, let’s have dinner…”

The two looked around to where the emperor was standing, at his side was another man who Kuroo thought was probably the prettiest man he’s ever seen.

“My sun and stars… My lord… Good evening…” the man cupped the emperor’s face, guiding it down to his for a tender kiss when his eyes caught the two at the doorway. “Will they be joining us for dinner?”

Bokuto turned, eyes wide as he looked at his visitors, like he’d almost forgotten they were there. “Oh… right… please, you two, sit down…”

To say that dinner was awkward would be an understatement, the emperor and his husband kept on whispering things like I love you and I can’t wait to be with you tonight to each other and smiling and touching each other.

Seeing them together now, Kuroo realized it shouldn’t have been surprising that Bokuto would go to battle for his lover’s favorite flowers.

They seemed to gravitate towards one another, like the rest of the world blurs into the background when they’re together. Eyes meeting with similar tenderness and intimacy that’s so evident the whole room could see it.

Kuroo almost felt like he was witnessing something he shouldn’t, like them in this moment is something that should be kept behind closed doors, away from prying eyes.

So he looked beside him instead, saw Kenma’s head bowed down as he dozed off to sleep, one cheek puffed and filled with rice he forgot to chew. Kuroo reached over, cupped a hand on his cheek and rubbed a thumb on his cheekbone.

Kenma’s eyes fluttered open, immediately looking over at Kuroo.

“Tired?” Kuroo asked.

Kenma just nodded, chewing lazily and swallowing, jaws moving in slow motion.

“I had a sleeping chamber prepared for you, you should rest… we can talk about whatever it is that you went here to talk about tomorrow morning…” Bokuto said, while Akaashi looked at them with concern in his eyes.

“Thank you, your majesty…” Kuroo said, helping Kenma up to his feet, almost a dead weight at his side. This really is his fault for waking him up before sunrise, and then forcing him to ride the entire way to the Fukurodani Empire without break. 

Bokuto just nodded, watching them exit the room escorted by sentinels.

“I thought Nekoma Kingdom’s crown prince hasn’t found a partner yet?” Bokuto asked when they were out of sight.

Akaashi frowned, looking at the door where the two just exited seconds ago. “Yeah, that’s their head tactician, I think… I wonder why they’re here…”

“You could’ve talked with them a little more… you didn’t need to go with me…” Kenma slumped on the floor, letting his body fall on the futon, all energy drained from his body like water down the drain.

“I’m tired too… come on, hey—” Kuroo tugged at Kenma’s hand, making him sit up, the tactician a complete dead weight, already half-asleep. “Hey… remove your clothes, at least… you’ll burn up in that…”

Kenma just mumbled something incomprehensible and turned, his breathing slowing down, completely asleep. 

Kuroo sighed, dropped the hand he’d been trying to pull and ran his fingers through his hair, looking down at Kenma strewn haphazardly over the futon, his dirty blond hair covering his face as he slept soundly. He lifted a hand, pushing the strands of hair away from Kenma’s face, fingers gliding softly against his cheeks.

Kuroo sighed again—this time more endearing than exasperated, and one by one stripped Kenma off his clothes. The cloak first, then unbuckling his sword belt, careful not to jostle him too much, but honestly the way he’s breathing right now, Kuroo could probably shout in his ear and he wouldn’t wake up.

Then his tiny boots, untying them and pulling it off his feet, massaging the sweaty and sore muscles, Kenma sighing softly below him. Kuroo breathed out a laugh—if only his subjects could see where he is now, massaging the feet of their tactician like his hands aren’t worth a massive fortune.

His pants were next, and he just pulled them off, careful not to let the garment touch the raw skin beneath. Kuroo clucked his tongue when he saw just how red the inside of Kenma’s thighs were—he always had sensitive skin, Kuroo knew, knew from all the times love bites formed on his pale skin with just the slightest sucks. Kuroo almost felt bad for making him ride the horse for so long without a break.

Kuroo stood up for a bit, stripping his own outer clothes, taking his satchel in his hands and opening it, fishing around for the tub of aloe vera he brought along.

Then he spread Kenma’s legs, gently unscrewing the lid of the tub, scooping a large amount on his fingers and spreading it on the irritated area.

Kenma grunted beneath him, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to squirm his legs closed, only to be met by Kuroo’s hands on his thighs.

“Kenma, behave, the chafing needs to be treated…” Kuroo leaned down, placing a kiss on the spot between Kenma’s brows, exactly where the wrinkle is tightest. Kenma’s face relaxed a bit, going back to his peaceful sleep. Kuroo shook his head, breathing out a laugh, he kissed it again for good measure, and continued to slather aloe vera on Kenma’s thighs.

Kuroo had always been a fixer, he guessed it came with the job of being royalty—of being a leader. He could never stop the urge to help someone suffering, be it a homeless person on the street, a struggling child at the market, even servants around the castle. 

His mother once said, “If you can help, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t.” So years ago when he saw a small child struggling to reach for a book at the top shelf in a corner of the library, Kuroo didn’t hesitate to step in and help. Though Kenma was more than capable to help himself (he was planning on climbing the said shelf if Kuroo didn’t arrive), Kuroo quickly realized that Kenma would often consciously choose to get the shorter end of the stick if it meant he didn’t have to put too much effort.

Which include things like shutting up during a debate with narrow-headed dukes and lords, or settling on first servings of dinner because he didn’t want to ask for a second one. Totally opposite of Kuroo who was extremely competitive, who had no qualms in getting into fistfights and shouting matches especially when he was so sure he’s the correct one. 

They balanced each other out—Kuroo igniting Kenma’s chill and Kenma cooling Kuroo’s hellfire. 

When Kuroo was sure the chafed skin inside Kenma’s thighs were fully coated with aloe vera, he placed a kiss on the side of his knee before pulling the blanket over his body.

Kuroo was the only person that touched Kenma and came away unscathed—frostbite just melting off his fingers. Likewise, Kenma was the only person who could hold Kuroo in his arms and not burn, the cold inside him calming the fire faster than Kuroo can reignite.

A push and pull dynamic, something that needed two people in harmony in order to work. 

Something that for sure wouldn’t work if Kuroo needed to get married to a random princess.

“So, mind telling me now to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit, Prince Tetsurou?” Emperor Bokuto asked, once again in the tea room, having breakfast.

Akaashi, the emperor’s husband, was there as well, surveying the both of them with sharp eyes. Kenma was still at their chambers, still passed out on his futon. Meanwhile, Kuroo had been up early, hunting the Emperor as soon as he made himself presentable.

“I’m actually… planning to ask for a favor…” Kuroo said, a finger tracing the lip of his teacup.

Bokuto and Akaashi exchanged glances, communicating with each other in the split second look, then Bokuto looked at Kuroo again, a raised eyebrow on his forehead. “What favor?”

“Well… the thing is… Kenma, the man I came here with…” Kuroo swallowed, licking his lips nervously. “I want to marry him…”

The two exchanged looks again, this time more briefly, Bokuto was still the one who spoke up while Akaashi stayed silent. “And what is the problem?”

“Well… the problem is… I’m being forced to marry a princess, a princess I barely know…” Kuroo said, looking at the Emperor’s eyes, hoping to ignite some sort of compassion or pity in him.

“And what do you want to ask of us?” 

“The reason the king is forcing me to marry a princess is because…” Kuroo heaved a dramatic sigh, looking extremely depressed. “... is because of the inevitable battle for the Honshu planes…”

It was almost comical the way Bokuto and Akaashi simultaneously furrowed their eyebrows, leaning instinctively towards each other like it was a defense mechanism.

“You want us to give up the Honshu planes so you wouldn’t have to marry the princess,” Akaashi whispered—not a question, just a plain statement.

Kuroo swallowed again, and this time the nervous feeling in his chest was real. God, he hoped they’re not just gonna have him executed.

“No, no… but maybe we could split it—after all, Northern Honshu has the best blooms of Menziesia, while the central to South Honshu has more barren lands…” Kuroo said. So maybe that was a huge stretch—there was barely any difference with the Menziesia blooms throughout Honshu, and there were no true barren lands either.

“You know…” Bokuto chuckled, picking up his tea cup and taking a sip, sighing in appreciation. “I’m pretty sure you’re only doing this to avoid a confrontational battle with us—after all your army is significantly smaller than ours—”

Kuroo took a sharp inhale. He didn’t fool them. His hand edged nearer the katana at his side.

“—but! But…” Bokuto looked at Kuroo, cocking his head to the side as if surveying his prey, pretending he didn’t notice the prince inching to his sword. “I also saw the way you look at the pudding head.”

That almost made Kuroo’s eyebrows raise, but he stopped the urge and kept his face neutral—waiting for the emperor to finish speaking. 

“The way you look at Kenma, though last night was the first time I saw it, it’s very familiar. Because that’s how my mother looked at my father when they were still alive…” Bokuto continued, he turned his head to look at his husband beside him. “And I know that’s how I look at Akaashi…”

The way he looked at Kenma? How did he look at Kenma, exactly? He didn’t realize he looks at the tactician in a certain way. 

Kuroo nodded eagerly, his face still neutral though his mind was going a mile a minute. “That was why I got the courage to come here, your majesty. I thought you would understand the way I love Kenma… and that maybe you would help us fulfill our love, the same way you and your majesty Akaashi fulfill yours…”

Please, just say yes… 

But Kuroo’s heart plunged in his stomach when Bokuto opened his mouth. “I’m sorry, I truly wish the best for you and Kenma, but we need the Honshu—”

Akaashi placed a hand on Bokuto’s thigh, making him stop. They looked at each other for a long while, Bokuto’s face going through a variety of emotions—confusion, disbelief, tenderness—in the span of seconds. 

It was Akaashi who nodded and spoke next, spoke the words that made Kuroo’s chest feel like he could breathe normally again.

“I am willing to split the Honshu planes, we only need the Northern part…”

“Listen to me, you need to ask the emperor and his husband for help, I hear they’re a lovesick couple, if someone in this world believes two people who love each other should be together, it’s them.” Shimizu clenched her jaw and looked Kuroo straight in the eyes.

“They fought the odds—they’re the first homosexual royal couple as far as I know, they got to sympathize with you…”

“Are you saying I should pretend to be in love with someone—preferably a man—and ask for his help?”

“If you don’t I will,” Shimizu just said, looking at her handmaid again who’s already staring at her. “But I think you’ll have a better chance at appealing to them…”

“And if I don’t?”

The princess’s face clouded over, eyes darkening and lips forming a thin line. “Then I’ll see you at the chapel by the end of the week.”

Kuroo and Kenma set to ride home after lunch that same day, Kuroo filling in Kenma quickly that they’re gonna be splitting the Honshu planes, and then saying their goodbyes to the two Emperors.

If Kenma was confused why Bokuto called out, “Invite us to the wedding!” as they mounted their horses once again, he didn’t show it, just sending Kuroo a look that meant he’s gonna have a lot to explain on the road.

“Thank you for your hospitality, your majesty,” Kuroo said, smiling down at the two who were holding hands.

Akaashi gave him a small smile, then Kenma, then back to Kuroo. “You two have a happy life…”

With that, they guided their horses out, and soon enough, the Fukurodani Imperial Castle disappeared in the foliage of trees.

“Now…” Kenma said, his voice low, hands gripping tight on the reins.

Kuroo just smiled at him, the smile that meant he was proud of himself. Kenma just sighed and shook his head. “At least tell me what you’re gloating about?”

And with that, Kuroo started telling him everything, starting from his conversation with Princess Shimizu. Kenma’s face remained neutral as he spoke, just staring straight in front of them, listening intently.

“So then, I told Emperor Bokuto that I wanted to marry you, so I can’t really marry the Princess — ”

“And what do you think they’ll do when no wedding occurs?” Kenma asked, finally asking the question he’d been dying to ask—the biggest loophole in the plan.

Kuroo furrowed his brows as he thought about it, and after a few seconds, shrugged his shoulders in nonchalance. “Then I’ll just have to marry you for real, I guess… So anyway, after that the Emperor said—” Kuroo stopped his horse as he noticed Kenma was no longer beside him, he looked over his shoulder, saw Kenma staring at him a few feet away. “Kenma?”

“I might not look like it, but I don’t have any plans of marrying someone who does not have any feelings for me…” Kenma whispered. His hands were sweating as he gripped the reins, and his heartbeat was becoming louder and louder in his throat.

Kuroo’s going to marry him. Him. Kenma. Kuroo’s going to marry Kenma.

He did his best not to look too hopeful—he’s just doing this for the kingdom, and for Princess Shimizu and Yachi.

Kuroo got near him, their horses neighing at the same time, when he was near enough to touch Kenma, Kuroo stopped, looked Kenma straight in the eyes with the most intimidating aura he could muster—though he was sure it’s not going to work on Kenma. Kenma’s immune to him, after all, to his charisma, to his affection, to his charm.

To his feelings .

“You think I don’t have feelings for you?” Kuroo asked.

Kenma raised his eyebrow, the thin line of his sanity on edge as Kuroo looked into his eyes like he’s trying to look deep into him, and he was afraid that Kuroo’s going to see the thing he’d been trying to hide for so long. “Well, do you, Kuro?”

Kuroo exhaled through his nose, running a hand through his hair in mild frustration. He leaned forward, until their faces were close enough that he could see the specks of gold and brown in Kenma’s eyes, illuminated by the sun high in the sky.

“I’ve seen you happy, Kenma. Seen you laughing into your hand and smiling at the domestic cats when you think nobody’s looking,” Kuroo started, and he wanted to stop himself from speaking, wanted to put a hand over his mouth lest he say things he’s not meant to, but it was like a dam has burst open inside him, and he couldn’t stop even if he tried.

“And I’ve seen you at your breaking point. Heck, I wrapped my body around yours through nights when your body racks with sobs. I hold your hand when you can't breathe…”

Kenma looked away to the other side, his heart felt like it’s jumping in ecstasy and self-destructing at the same time. He didn’t know what to feel, everything was too much yet at the same time he didn’t want Kuroo to stop talking. He wanted Kuroo to tell him more, he wanted to swallow all the words coming from his mouth and keep it inside him to cherish.

“Do you really think I’d do all that if I don’t feel something for you, Kenma?”

Kenma took a deep breath, bracing himself for the next moments that will come. He turned around, and he almost forgot what he was about to say as he saw Kuroo’s face, the same face he hoped he’d see in his dreams instead of nightmares. The face that he searches for in a room full of people. The face that has become his salvation.

He swallowed and then opened his mouth. “I think you’d go to great lengths to get laid…”

“Kenma if I wanted to get laid, I’d pick the prettiest girl at the royal court and fuck her in the throne room,” Kuroo spat out, “And then I’d leave her there to clean up after herself. I know she’ll do it. I know she’ll be grateful.”

Kenma’s chest felt like it’s being carved from the inside, the prince’s words stabbing straight to his heart and clawing at the organ. But he remained passive, even as tears pricked at the inside of his eyes and his throat closed up.

“Then why didn’t you?”

“Because I love you!” Kuroo yelled, hands thrown in the air in frustration, face twisted in agony at the overwhelming wave of emotions inside him, like a cacophony of colors mixing together too fast for him to see and understand each one properly. “Because I don’t want to touch anyone else but you! Because being with you feels like… feels like…”

Kuroo looked around him, searching for the right term, the right word to express what exactly it feels like to lay beside Kenma at night, to hold his hand and to kiss his lips and taste his skin. He reached for Kenma’s hand around the rein, knuckles white with strain. He rubbed a thumb at the knuckles, and he looked at Kenma, who’s just looking at him, eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

“Being with you just feels right, like I’m exactly where I belong…” Kuroo whispered. “I belong to you, Kenma…”

Kenma didn’t answer, because just breathing in and out is becoming a task in need of his entire effort and focus.

“And honestly, we don’t need to get married, we don’t need to do all of that shit if we don’t want to as long as I get to stay by your side, but—”

“It’s okay, I’ll marry you…”

Kuroo’s head snapped up in attention, his body suddenly turning cold and stiff. “What did you say?”

Though Kenma tried his very best to remain serious, he couldn’t help the twitch in his lips, and he broke into a smile as he spoke again. “I said I’ll marry you…”

“For real?”

“For real.”

“Why?”

It was Kenma’s turn to look at him with nothing but fondness in his eyes. He let go of the rein he’s holding, flipping his hand to catch Kuroo’s, holding it between his two small hands, and as he talked, he looked at their intertwined hands instead.

“Because I’ve also seen you at your best and your worst… I’ve seen you proud of yourself when one of your plans makes it through and actually works… The huge smile on your face and the way your chest puffs up in pride…” Kenma let out a chuckle and shook his head. “But I’ve also seen you when some of your plans don’t make it… when it results in death and suffering of the people you swore you’d protect… I’ve seen you blame yourself, and beat yourself up…” his face darkened then, and he raised his head, looked at Kuroo who’s looking at him with an unexplainable look in his face.

“I’ve seen them all, Kuro… I’ve seen all of you… and I just fall in love with each and every you… The highs, the lows, I want to see them all…” He took a deep breath, and he sent Kuroo a tentative smile. “I want to be the one to pull you down when your head is spending too much in the skies, and I also want to be the one to pull you up when you go underwater and try to drown…”

Kuroo tightened his hand around Kenma’s. “You don’t need to save me, Kenma…”

But Kenma just smiled at him. “Why? Because I’m not a knight in shining armor?”

Kuroo rolled his eyes, his body turning to normal again, like his soul had finally entered his body again. “Because I don’t want you to feel like you’re responsible for me… I know it’s not always easy for you too…”

Kenma just frowned, nodding in agreement. “True, but I want to…” he said, the words you are my strength, and seeing you weak hurts more than any nightmare knocking inside his mouth, but he kept his lips sealed. Kuroo didn’t need to know that.

When they arrived back at the Nekoma Kingdom early the next morning, Kuroo ordered an urgent council meeting, and asked them to call Princess Shimizu too.

Kenma was once again falling asleep on the table, the early morning and the tiring journey they had making him barely functionable especially without some sort of caffeine in his system. But Kuroo had promised it would be fast, and that Kenma could sleep for an entire day after the meeting.

The council arrived one by one, their appearances making it obvious they were rudely woken up by the order, except for Princess Shimizu, who’s radiant as ever even this early, though Kuroo was sure she’d probably been waiting for them to come back.

When she arrived, she locked eyes with Kuroo, raising an eyebrow in a silent question. Kuroo gave him a subtle thumbs up, and her face immediately relaxed, sitting down on her chair with such elegance Kenma thought she couldn’t have been human to be like that in this hour.

When everyone has finally arrived, they all looked at Kuroo expectantly, waiting for him to tell them why the fuck they disappeared without notice and came back demanding for an urgent meeting.

So Kuroo told them what happened, the version where he’s in love with Kenma and decided to talk to the Fukurodani emperor and get him on their side, wisely omitting the part where he and Princess Shimizu schemed together just so the wedding wouldn’t push through.

“But surely, you can’t be serious, your highness! You’re going to marry another man?” a duke called out from down the table.

“And why can’t I, pray tell?”

“How are you going to have children to take over the kingdom? I think this is entirely selfish—”

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about that. By the time we’re ready to have children, you’ll probably be dead already, so don’t worry…” Kuroo said, smirking at the duke.

“Your highness—”

“I am not asking for your opinion, your grace ,” Kuroo hissed between his teeth, his tone making it clear that if he’s contradicted once more it would mean the end of their life.

So the duke turned to the King instead, bowing his head. “Please, your majesty, your son must be—”

“Prince Tetsurou,” the King said, cutting off the duke and looking at his son.

Kuroo gulped and gripped his knee under the table. “Yes, Father.”

“Are you sure about this?”

Kuroo looked at his father, and he raised his chin, squared his shoulder, and hoped to the gods his crown wasn’t lopsided on his head. “I’ve never been surer, your majesty.”

“And you, Kenma?”

Kenma looked at the king, and then to Kuroo beside him, he reached out to hold his hand below the table. “Yes, your majesty…”

“Okay then…”

“Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be shelter for the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you will be warmth to the other. Now there will be no loneliness, for each of you will be companion to the other. Now you are two persons, but there is only one life before you.”

The voice of the pastor droned on, echoing inside the chapel. In front of the altar, two figures stood beside each other, clasping hands tightly.

Behind them, a congregation of the royal families sat witness to their wedding.

“May beauty surround you both in the journey ahead and through all the years. May happiness be your companion and your days together be good and long upon the—”

“I heard Princess Shimizu’s father almost had a heart attack when the princess announced who she wants to marry instead…” Kenma whispered behind his hand, Kuroo automatically leaning down to hear better.

Kuroo snorted out a laugh, and straightened up when his mother, the queen, shot him a dirty look. When she turned to the front again, Kuroo leaned down and whispered at Kenma’s ear. “Yeah, but I heard Princess Shimizu said either he’ll let him marry Yachi or she’ll run away…”

It was Kenma’s turn to snort out a laugh, and as he looked at Princess Shimizu and Yachi accept their vows, he blindly searched for Kuroo’s hand with his own, smiling as Kuroo intertwined their fingers tight and placed it on his thigh.

Kenma shot him a look, Kuroo turning his head to catch his eyes. 

“I love you, your highness…” Kenma whispered, golden eyes opened wide and honest.

Kuroo tried not to smile too wide, failing miserably. He leaned down and placed a kiss on Kenma’s forehead.

“I love you too…”