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Kenma looked up from his Switch to see Tetsurou lifting yet another book and slotting it onto a bookshelf next to countless others. Kenma didn’t know getting a house with a library would mean Tetsurou spending an entire day sorting books at least twice a year, and he wasn’t especially pleased with having his boyfriend’s attention taken from him for more than a few hours. They were both busy enough as it is, why did Tetsurou have to waste what little time they had together being a nerd?
Kenma huffed in malcontent, sinking lower into the large plush club chair he was curled up in. Pouting, he returned to the quest he was currently trying to complete. He’d been at it for at least an hour and he still couldn’t figure out how to get past the boss. This, combined with his frustration at the lack of affection he was receiving, was starting to make him agitated and a little antsy. He kept turning and moving on the soft cushions of his chair, but he couldn’t seem to find a comfortable sitting position no matter how hard he tried, which only added to his dissatisfaction with his current circumstances.
Hearing the shuffling of the soft fabric of Kenma’s oversized sweater against the worn leather of the occupied chair, Tetsurou turned away from the bookshelf he was currently working on organizing. When he noticed Kenma’s pout, he smiled affectionately.
“What’s wrong, kitten?”
Kenma sighed and flopped his head back over an armrest of the chair, having settled for sitting sideways with his legs over the other armrest.
“I can’t beat this boss…”
“Why not take a break then, hm?” Tetsurou asked, gently taking the Switch from Kenma’s hands and turning it off before setting it on the small reading table next to the chair. When Tetsurou’s hands brushed Kenma’s, he frowned.
“Kitten, your hands are freezing!” Tetsurou pushed Kenma’s excessively long sleeves past his hands to hold them with his own in an attempt to warm them, though it didn’t help much.
“I thought wearing your sleeves past your hands was supposed to keep them warm?” Tetsurou chuckled, only half teasing.
Kenma shrugged slightly, turning away with a blush when Tetsurou started to kiss his fingertips softly. Tetsurou soon stood and returned Kenma’s hands to his lap with a sigh.
“I’ll make us some tea, how about that?”
When Tetsurou left the room, Kenma grabbed the Switch and returned to his game, becoming lost in his own world for a few minutes. Tetsurou returned to the library with a steaming mug of peppermint tea in each hand and a soft blanket tossed over his shoulder. He shook his head with a smile at the sight of Kenma once again hunched over and gaming, though this time Kenma wasn’t frowning quite so deeply.
“I’m back,” Tetsurou announced, placing the mugs onto the table once he reached the chair. Kenma glanced up at Tetsurou before he saved his game and returned the Switch to the table, paying careful attention to the distance between it and the mugs.
Before Kenma could claim one of the mugs of tea as his own, however, Tetsurou tossed the blanket over him and scooped him up into his own arms. Kenma made a small noise of protest in surprise. Tetsurou only chuckled and turned them, plopping himself into the chair with Kenma curled onto his lap.
Once Kenma felt himself resting on something stable, he pulled the blanket off of his head to glare at Tetsurou, albeit without any real malice. Tetsurou offered Kenma a hair tie from his wrist when he noticed the smaller man trying to tame the frizzed strands of hair the blanket had left standing on end. Kenma gratefully accepted the elastic band and wrapped it around his hair, leaving it up in a messy bun.
While Kenma was busy with his hair, Tetsurou adjusted the soft blanket over Kenma and himself so it would fully cover both of their laps, leaving them cozy and comfortable for whatever length of time they’d stay under its warmth. Kenma settled onto Tetsurou’s lap, his back to Tetsurou’s chest, resting his head back onto Tetsurou’s shoulder.
“Hey 'Ro, hand me my tea?” It was more of a question than a demand, but Tetsurou teased him for it all the same.
“Of course, your highness,” he replied as he grabbed both of the mugs, now comfortably warm to hold rather than burning hot.
Kenma gave a small smile and hit Tetsurou lightly with the back of his hand before taking his mug, the black one that had a white silhouette of a cat on it. He wrapped his chilled fingers around it, letting the warmth sink into his cool skin and reveling in the comfort of the warmth both in his hands and surrounding him.
Tetsurou began sipping his tea in silence as he thought about the man who was currently sitting on his lap- his beautiful, silky, soft hair, his slender figure, his cunning eyes, his sharp wit. Tetsurou could think for days about Kenma only. In an especially sappy gesture of affection, Tetsurou stopped drinking his tea for a moment to wrap his free arm around Kenma’s midsection and turn, pressing a light kiss to his temple before returning to the warm-yet-cool beverage in his obnoxiously yellow mug.
He’d gotten his mug in spite one time when Kenma had commented on how bright it was in the store. Kenma was clearly stating it out of disgust, but who was Tetsurou if not one to bother Kenma whenever he had the chance? Although the mug had originally been bought as a gag, Tetsurou now regularly used it. There were so many memories attached to such an insignificant item. Of course there was the store incident that resulted in his ownership of the ceramic object, but there was also the first morning he woke up before Kenma and made him breakfast in bed, and the time they both pulled an all-nighter so that Kenma wouldn’t have to be up streaming alone, and the time Tetsurou spent three days sneaking around the house at night to plan a surprise date for Kenma. There were a million little moments just like this one, whether they were cuddled up on the couch under blankets after a long day or lounging around the kitchen trying to wake themselves up for the day with coffee. Tetsurou’s mug had seen it all, and staring into the surface of the tea inside it was like looking through a portal showing him all the times he and Kenma had laughed, cried, smiled, and frowned in the presence of this one, small, easily replaceable piece of dishware. That’s what made it irreplaceable and priceless to Tetsurou.
During Tetsurou’s less than brief interlude into his own mind and memories, Kenma smiled down at his sweater paws, covering his hands and wrapping around his mug, preserving the heat from his tea to return the heat and circulation to his nimble extremities. Kenma liked this particular sweater. It was soft. It was warm. It always smelled just right- like Tetsurou and detergent and a little of something spicy he couldn’t place- maybe cinnamon? No matter the exact smell, if Kenma had to describe it in one word, it would be ‘home’.
As Kenma brought his mug up to take a drink of his tea, the edges of his sleeves brushed against his face and Kenma reminisced on the first time he felt the sleeves of this particular sweater. It had been during his first year of college and Tetsurou’s second, the first time they had lived together for more than a week. At that point, they hadn’t been in a relationship beyond being friends, they were just planning on sharing an apartment for convenience’s sake throughout both of their time in college. Who would’ve thought that decision would lead to them being happy and romantically involved how many years later, cuddling in an oversized chair in the middle of their in-home library?
Kenma let his hands linger near his face, rubbing the sweater against his cheek before returning his hands to his lap. The day Tetsurou confessed his feelings to Kenma in their cramped kitchen, the taller had been wearing this particular sweater. He’d been playing with the sleeves in anxiety all day, and Kenma wasn’t able to stand it any longer. Tetsurou eventually caved under his interrogation and blurted out how he’d felt about his mostly-blond companion for the past few years. Kenma had been in disbelief, but was able to choke out a reply accepting Tetsurou’s affections and before he knew it his former captain was holding Kenma’s face in his hands and kissing him gently; sweetly. It was then that the sleeves of this sweater brushed against Kenma’s cheeks for the first time.
Kenma smiled at the memory as the two of them finished their tea in a comfortable silence, each bathing in the complimentary aura of the other and appreciating their presence, perfectly content and calm like cats soaking up the warm sun in front of a bay window in the afternoon. Tetsurou set his mug on the table and offered his hand for Kenma’s, putting it next to his own when Kenma handed it to him.
“Are your hands any warmer?” Tetsurou asked, reaching for Kenma’s hands that were still hidden inside the sweater.
“I think so, they don’t feel cold to me anymore…” Kenma replied.
“Let me feel them,” Tetsurou gently coaxed, pulling Kenma’s hands into his own and brushing back the sweater sleeves, revealing Kenma’s soft hands.
Tetsurou wrapped Kenma’s hands in his own and smiled as he said, “Yup, definitely warmer.”
Tetsurou brought Kenma’s hands up to his lips and kissed the tip of each finger as he had earlier, smiling widely at Kenma as a blush grew and deepened across his cheeks with each touch of his fingers to Tetsurou’s lips. Next, Tetsurou moved to kissing each of Kenma’s knuckles, then the palm of either hand, and, finally, he kissed the gold band on Kenma’s ring finger that matched the one on his own.
“I love you, Kuroo Kenma.”
“I love you, too, Kuroo Tetsurou.”