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Kenma closes the door to his and Kuroo’s house and turns the key in the lock before jiggling the brass knob slightly to make certain the door is secure. Every time he leaves the house he has to check the door to make sure it’s firmly closed and locked because it has a tendency to not lock completely, which he had found out when he and Kuroo came home from running errands once to see the door swinging open and closed with the breeze, a sight that had made his blood run cold until Kuroo had checked the house for intruders, coming up empty.
Later, they had discovered that the reason the door didn’t always work properly was because of the age of it and the rest of their house. Kuroo had had the passing idea of buying a ‘fixer-upper’ house and working on ‘making it their own’ or something of the sort. Unfortunately Koutarou had encouraged Kuroo, leading him into begging Kenma to agree to buying the house that they currently lived in, because how could Kenma ever say no to Kuroo’s wide, pleading eyes? Plus the house was really cheap even though it was in a nice neighborhood.
Their house had squeaky doors that didn’t latch properly, creaky floorboards that were rotting slowly, and leaky pipes that dripped everywhere. It had worn, stained carpets and outdated kitchen appliances. It even had landline phones throughout the house. By this point all the leaking pipes have been replaced, the carpets are partially removed, and the kitchen appliances have been updated. All the rotting floorboards have been replaced, too, but a few of them still creak and the entire house groans during particularly intense storms.
Kuroo and Kenma had decided to keep the landline in the house for emergencies and both of them had memorized the number, just in case they needed it. Because Kenma doesn’t bring his phone into his recording room to prevent unnecessary distractions, a landline phone is kept in there. This is the primary reason for keeping the landline, honestly; that way if something urgent happens he will hear, and more importantly answer, the phone—not that they had needed to test that theory yet.
When he’s sure the door is tightly closed, Kenma puts his keys into his hoodie pockets with his phone and wallet, turning to his messy haired boyfriend and housemate, who’s dressed head to toe in black: a black cape, a black button down, black slacks, black shoes, and black socks, all topped with some obviously fake ‘blood’ painted onto the corner of his mouth.
When Kuroo makes eye contact with Kenma he lowers his phone and shoots Kenma a smile, revealing the cheesy fangs he has affixed to his teeth. At that, Kenma barely suppresses a small smile and covers a giggle with a cough. Kuroo looks like he’s just stepped out of a b-rated horror movie—which is fair, considering every piece of his halloween costume that hadn’t been in his wardrobe previously was from the seasonal aisle of the 100 yen store.
Kuroo moves to put his phone in his pocket before remembering that neither his slacks nor his cape have any and looks up to Kenma again, silently pleading with begging eyes. Kenma shakes his head.
“No, Kuro, I’m not carrying your phone in my pocket. Just hold it.”
Kuroo whines, “What if I get scared and drop it?”
“Then that sucks, doesn’t it?”
Seeing that playing the ‘helpless boyfriend’ isn’t working, Kuroo smirks and tugs Kenma to him, placing his mouth over the side of Kenma’s neck and grazing the sensitive skin there with his plastic fangs as he speaks.
“If you don’t carry my phone, I guess I’ll just have to turn you into a vampire, too,” he threatens teasingly.
Kenma’s breath catches in his throat for a second before he takes Kuroo’s phone from his hand and sets it in his pocket.
“You’re not a real vampire, Kuro,” Kenma says with a dull and tired tone—trying to play off the situation—but a small blush is still dusted over his cheeks, which makes Kuroo’s grin widen. Kuroo peppers small kisses up Kenma’s neck and over his jaw before planting a sweet—albeit awkward and fangy— kiss on his mouth and pulls away from him. The two stare at each other with small smiles for a few minutes, content to exist in each others’ presence and watch the wonder sparkling in each others’ eyes.
The couple is interrupted by an exaggerated gagging noise, and the sound of a quiet,firm but gentle reprimand that comes from their best friends—Koutarou and Keiji Bokuto—who are dressed as a werewolf and a cat, respectively. Kenma startles in Kuroo’s hold and jumps away while off-handedly calling Kuroo a sap in an attempt to preserve his image.
Kuroo responds to Kenma with, “Only for you!” and a quick kiss on the cheek before walking down the sidewalk to join the Bokutos. Kenma grumbles, trudging behind the three somewhat for a few moments before Kuroo stops to wait for him. As soon as Kenma reaches Kuroo, he’s scooped into the arms of the taller man—a little uncomfortably due to the cape—and carried while Kuroo runs to catch up to the married men once again, slowing down for them once they pass their friends.
Seeing Kuroo pass them, Koutarou leans down for Keiji to get on his back. After he’s certain his partner is securely held in place behind him, Koutarou takes off past Kuroo and Kenma, calling out a challenge behind himself that he was sure his bro couldn’t refuse: “Race you to the haunted house! Last ones there have to pay for drinks at the halloween party later!”
“Oh, you’re on!” Kuroo shouts, shifting Kenma onto his back as gracefully as his attire allows and sprinting after Koutarou and his husband.
“Do you have to fall for his taunts every time?” Kenma complains quietly to Kuroo, referring to the everlasting boyish rivalry between the two ex-captains. Despite his words, his face holds a small smile.
“Well, I don’t want to pay for drinks later!” Kuroo exclaims in response as they pass the Bokutos again. When Kenma looks over at them in passing, he notices the tiniest of grins on Keiji’s face, which is quickly hidden in Koutarou’s carefully styled mess of hair.
Kenma rolls his eyes at his boyfriend and says teasingly, “You mean I don’t want to pay for drinks later, Mr. Finishing-Grad-School.”
Kuroo chuckles at this and replies with a short, “Sure,” before he focuses back on running to their destination.
About halfway to the haunted house, Kuroo and Koutarou exhaust themselves and are forced to take a break by their respective significant others; the bet is long forgotten in favor of engaging in the natural banter between the four as they finish the walk to the place they’ll be spending the next hour or so.
When they arrive, they’re guided through the event with relative normalcy—Kuroo only suddenly attacking Kenma a few times, causing the older man quite a few (easily avoidable) bruises from Kenma’s retaliating assaults, and Koutarou 'subtly’ wrapping his arm around Keiji ‘for his own comfort’, as the spiker explains, throughout the majority of the endeavor.
The return trip includes much of the same mischief as the original walk to the haunted house, only this time with much less energy from Kenma and Keiji. As they near the split between paths toward Kuroo and Kenma’s house and the party venue, Kenma speaks up.
“I’m feeling a bit tired. You guys go on ahead to the party without me.”
“Kitten?” Kuroo questions, turning to Kenma and halting their party’s travel temporarily. “Are you feeling sick?” he asks, bringing his hand up to rest on Kenma’s forehead and check his temperature.
Kenma swiftly brushes off the hand, shaking his head.
“I’m feeling fine, just a little over the whole ‘people’ thing right now. Besides, there were some things I wanted to do at home anyway—checking on my halloween video upload and such.”
“Alright, babe. Make sure you lock the doors when you get home, okay?” Kuroo reminds him as he pulls Kenma into a tight hug, giving him a short peck on the lips as they pull away from one another.
“Of course. Don’t have too much fun now, you three,” Kenma teases as he waves to his comrades, and starts down the path to his house.
The rest of the walk home is short, but the sun has set and there’s a strong breeze—one that’s quickly picking up and making the evening even colder. After a particularly chilly gust of wind, Kenma zips his hoodie up the rest of the way and pulls the hood over his head.
Subconsciously, he lingers in the light of each streetlamp and walks slightly faster through the unlit areas between them. He doesn’t notice the tiniest increase in his heartbeat or the way his head is involuntarily on a swivel. He isn’t scared—not actively—but his instincts keep him more than aware of every sound in the darkness around him. He quickly becomes sick of the uneasiness in his gut and decides to jog the rest of the way home.
When he reaches the doorstep to their house, Kenma pulls out his keys and unlocks the door—closing, locking, and triple checking it behind him—before he lets out a deep breath of relief he hadn’t noticed he was holding until now. The fact that it was both Halloween and a full moon tonight was probably psyching him out despite his conscious efforts to fight off his anxiety. Being alone definitely wasn’t doing him any favors, but ruining Kuroo’s night with his own problems was not an option—not even remotely, not for Kenma. He’d be fine on his own until Kuroo got home if he just got out of his own head. He’d make some tea and put on some mindless movie while checking comments on his latest video—maybe even take a bath—and then his boyfriend would be back and he would be fine. Everything would be fine.
But first he should turn on the lights. The click of the light switches and small hum of electricity is almost calming as the kitchen, entryway, and living room are illuminated by warm yellow light. It feels as though the light has taken Kenma into its warm embrace and flushed out most of the worries he had. Nothing can hide in the shadows if there aren’t any shadows to hide in.
Unzipping his hoodie, Kenma notices that he not only has his own belongings in his pockets, but Kuroo’s too. He sighs and shakes his head—guess he has to stay up long enough to unlock the front door for Kuroo later. It’s not like he had been planning to take a nap or anything, but the option would have been nice.
He empties his pockets onto the counters before returning to the entry room and hanging his jacket on the coat rack by the door. Leaving the room, he checks the front door one more time. He’ll leave the light on for when Kuroo gets home—absolutely not because he’s afraid. At least, that’s what he tells himself, even though his hands shake as he puts a full kettle on the stove and turns on a burner. He notices his anxious tremors as he reaches into the cupboard for a cup and takes a few seconds to just close his eyes and breathe.
Seconds turn into minutes and Kenma startles back into the present by the whistle of the kettle, spurring him into motion once again. With finally steady hands, he grabs a cup and a bag of his favorite apple spice tea. He prepares his tea, his mind wandering to when he and Kuroo had first moved here and couldn’t find the brand of tea Kenma liked in the local stores. A small smile drifts onto his face as he remembers the day an unexpected package had arrived on their doorstep while Kuroo was away and Kenma had opened it to find more tea than he could probably drink in three months. Kuroo was upset that the surprise had been ruined, but Kenma’s joy had more than made up for his slight disappointment.
Kenma drops two cubes of sugar into his cup after discarding the soggy tea bag he had used. His demeanor is considerably calmer as he walks into the living room, turning off the kitchen light on his way out. Once he’s made his way to the couch, he clicks the television on and surfs channels until he comes across one filled with exclusively documentaries for the next few hours, perfect for background noise while he’s on his phone. His phone. He sighs in frustration and slight exhaustion as he stands again, leaving his tea on the end table next to him.
Taking three steps into the kitchen to grab his phone, Kenma stops. He thought he could grab his phone quickly and go back to the living room no problem without having to worry about the lights, but evidently he was wrong. He takes a few deep breaths and walks back to the doorway, flipping on the lights and then moving to grab his phone. After acquiring the device, he hits the lights again and swiftly walks back into the light of the living room.
Once he settles on to the couch again, he sighs in defeat. He’d only needed the lights for a few seconds, why couldn’t he have just grabbed the phone and left the room? Why is he getting freaked out by the dark in the first place? He isn’t in primary school anymore. Kenma shakes his head—he knows why he’s afraid, but there’s not much he can do other than breathe and try to focus on something else right now. Being afraid won’t bring Kuroo home any sooner.
Kenma grabs his tea with one hand and opens his phone with the other, navigating through his apps to check on the upload progress of his Halloween video. He smiles into his cup when he sees that the video went up without any issues and in a timely manner—nothing stresses him out quite like when a video isn’t posting correctly or gets flagged for no apparent reason. Suddenly, an alert pops up on his screen. His phone is at 10% battery. Kenma sighs. He should really get a new phone, considering his current one doesn’t hold a charge worth a damn, but it still works so he can’t bring himself to spend money for something he doesn’t urgently need.
He contemplates going to grab his charger from upstairs when he gets a text from Koutarou saying that Kuroo forgot his phone. Kenma chuckles behind his cup—endeared by his boyfriend’s obliviousness. No shit he forgot his phone. Did he think Kenma wouldn’t have noticed already? The next text asks if Kenma wants Kuroo to come home early. Kuroo knows about Kenma’s separation anxiety—and his general anxiety—and he’s extremely considerate, so of course he would offer something like that. Kenma types up a message telling Koutarou to tell Kuroo to relax and stop worrying about him. He’s fine now, even if he had had some problems earlier. He doesn’t need Kuroo to come home early if it’s going to stop him from having fun.
After that text goes through, Kenma’s phone goes dark. Dead. He sighs and tosses his phone onto the coffee table, looking up to the documentary playing on their television. He’ll charge his phone later; for now he just wants to drink his tea and zone out; maybe learning a thing or two about sea urchins from the educational program playing in the background along the way.
***
When Kuroo, Koutarou, and Keiji get to the costume party, Kuroo reaches into his pocket for his phone so that he can text Kenma and tell him that they made it to the party safely—only to realize that he doesn’t have any pockets. It dawns on him that he had asked Kenma to keep hold of his phone and keys while they were in the haunted house and never asked for his belongings back.
Kuroo groans in frustration, getting the attention of both Bokutos—and earning himself a few odd glances from the other party-goers around them.
“What’s wrong, bro?” Koutarou asks.
“I forgot my phone and keys with Kenma,” Kuroo sighs.
“Naturally,” Keiji adds with a small smile, earning a short glare from Kuroo in return. Keiji just rolls his eyes in endearment and gives a languid wave, heading towards the bar to get their party a few drinks.
“I can text him real quick, if you want,” Koutarou offers, pulling his own phone out of his pocket.
“That would be great, thanks man.”
“No prob! What do you want me to say?”
“Can you ask him if he wants me to come home? He doesn’t really like being alone.”
A few seconds pass with Koutarou tapping away on his phone before he speaks up again.
“He said to just enjoy the party. He’ll be fine, man. He’s an adult.”
“Yeah…” Kuroo says with a slight frown, concern etched into his features.
“Cheer up. He wouldn’t want you moping all night,” Keiji says upon his return, offering up a beer to his partner and a bottle of tea to Kuroo before twisting the cap to a water bottle and taking a sip himself.
“Ugh… Yeah, you’re right,” Kuroo says, accepting his tea with a small nod.
“Keiji’s always right!” Koutarou says and with a grin. “Now c’mon! I think I saw a pool table on our way in!”
And with that, the three get sucked into the commotion of the party around them.
***
Kenma startles awake by the sound of the landline ringing. When had he fallen asleep? His cup was empty and sitting on the coffee table next to his phone and the program on tv had changed, now showing an infomercial for some kitchen appliance or another. He lifted the phone off of the receiver and held it to his ear, waiting a short second greeting whoever was on the other end of the call demurely.
Silence. Not a sound came through the device—not the static of a poor connection nor the long tone of an unconnected call. Not even a creepy heavy breathing could be heard through the phone—not that Kenma had been expecting that. No, that would be crazy, not to mention a little paranoid—which he is not.
Kenma is not paranoid at all. That’s why he’s definitely not trembling when he replaces the phone on its base. The short click signaling the end of the call doesn’t make him let out a short breath of relief, and he certainly doesn’t flick on the hallway lights just to ease his anxiety.
Except he is, and he does, and Kenma feels more than a little silly for the weight that leaves his chest after the rest of the rooms within his sight are illuminated and he confirms that nothing is lurking within the shadows nearby.
Sighing, he goes back to the living room and grabs his cup and phone, stuffing the latter into his pocket and takes the former to the kitchen where he rinses it out and sets it in the sink to be thoroughly washed later. It’s a shame they hadn’t gotten a dishwasher yet—Kenma had wanted one for convenience’s sake but Kuroo argued that they should wait until they finished updating the rest of the kitchen, Kuroo ultimately winning the debate through logic and sheer persistence.
When Kenma returns to the living room, his skin still feels as though it’s crawling so he begins walking around the house looking for anything that might be off-kilter or out of place. As he goes from room to room, he turns on each light and keeping them on when he leaves; electrical bill be damned, he just wants to feel safe and comfortable in his own home. Additionally, he draws the curtains in each of the outward facing rooms of the house, and with each new window that’s covered Kenma feels just a bit better—just a little more secure.
By the time Kenma’s made it back to the living room, he feels almost himself. His face lights up as he remembers his phone in his pocket and he walks as quickly as he can to his and Kuroo’s shared bedroom, striding across the floor to his bedside table and lifting the cord for his phone from the top of it. After his phone is plugged in, Kenma watches the dark screen become a slightly illuminated black screen and leaves for the living room once again, satisfied that the phone is charging and would soon be usable again.
Before Kenma has a chance to leave the bedroom the landline rings again, the sudden and sharp tone making him flinch. He snatches the bedroom phone from its reciever and brings it to his ear, greeting the open line with a clipped tone.
“Hello?”
Once again, no noise can be heard from the other end of the call. After a few more ‘Hello?’s Kenma becomes frustrated and hangs up with an aggravated sigh.
Kenma is shaking as he walks back to the living room. He knows it’s unreasonable—that the landline probably just doesn’t work—but he’s on edge nonetheless. He settles himself onto the couch again and wraps himself up in his blanket in a desperate attempt for some comfort. Turning his attention back to the seemingly endless marathon of documentaries running on the tv station, he lets his mind be consumed by useless facts about nebulas, courtesy of the tail end of the current program.
He slowly slips into the security of his own mind, wondering what Kuroo would think of the scientific theories being presented to him and thinking about the endearing face the nerdy man would make—the same one he makes when he thinks about anything too hard. Kuroo’s brow always furrows and his head always tilts, eyes flitting about subconsciously as if his own knowledge is projected into the space around him to sort and sift through facts and theories accumulated over years of casual research.
Kenma doesn’t daydream for long, though. His thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of the landline for the third time. This time, he just lets the phone ring, completely ignoring the shrill sound and looks back to the tv, which was now playing a commercial for an insurance company with a ridiculous jingle.
When the program returns, it appears that the next documentary has already begun, this time about the legacy of the Zodiac killer. The show doesn’t run for but a minute longer before Kenma picks up the remote and turns the tv off, preferring silence and his own thoughts to the anxiety inducing descriptions of an infamous murderer’s actions.
With the tv off, the howling of the wind is infinitely louder, making Kenma even more anxious than he had been previously—something he hadn’t thought possible. Another prominent sound that he hadn’t been able to hear over the television was the creaking of the boards of their house, something else that put him on edge. What if their house isn’t structurally sound enough to withstand the wind and it falls down on top of him? Kuroo had the house assessed before they bought it, so Kenma knew he was safe, but his thoughts still ran rampant in his current, scattered state.
His thoughts continue to race as he shakes on the couch, clutching the blanket around himself so tightly that his knuckles turn white. What if the strong winds turn into a storm? What if Kuroo can’t make it home because of the weather? Even worse, what if a storm picks up and Kuroo tries to come home regardless? What if he gets hurt, or worse, on his way home? What if he gets jumped? Their neighborhood is safe, sure, but it could still happen. There are terrible people everywhere and the most vile of them hide behind smiling masks of politeness and formalities. The next mass murderer could be living nearby without anyone knowing. It could be their neighbor, for all Kenma knows. What if they're looking for their first victim right now? What if they’ve already chosen their victim? What if it’s Kenma? What if they’ve been waiting for him to be alone so they could attack? It’s entirely possible. Kenma hasn’t kept a strict exercise schedule since quitting volleyball, so he isn’t exactly the strongest guy around. He’s small enough that someone could subdue him relatively easily. He isn’t ever alone at night, either. Kuroo’s always home with him by the time the sun sets, so if a killer has marked him as a target there wouldn’t have been an opening to kill him before now—and this was the best chance they could get Kenma’s a perfect target in the perfect situation—if someone wanted to kill him this would be their best opportunity.
As Kenma’s thoughts continue to race and his breathing starts to become erratic the doorbell rings.
***
The trio step away from the loudest part of the party to get more to drink—another beer for Koutarou, while Keiji and Kuroo both grab bottles of water for themselves. In the momentary reprieve from the noise, Kuroo remembers that Kenma is still alone at their house and turns to Koutarou.
“Hey, do you think you could text Kenma for me again?”
“Sure bro!” He replies, pulling his phone from his pocket and sending out a few texts.
Kuroo waits for Koutarou to relay the message from Kenma, but Koutaro costays silent and continues to stare at his phone, shooting off a few more messages.
“What’s wrong?” Kuroo asks when his best bud’s brow begins to furrow.
“He’s not responding,” Keiji supplies, having been by Koutarou’s side and able to see what was going on the entire time.
Kuroo’s face sinks at the news and he asks, “Can you call him?”
“Sure!” Koutarou quips, pressing the call button and lifting the phone to his ear. Mere seconds later, he lowers the phone. “Straight to voicemail.”
“Maybe his phone is dead,” Keiji offers. “Try the emergency landline number.”
“Genius!” Koutarou smiles down at his husband before doing exactly that.
The trio wait with bated breath for the call to connect.
“Uhhhhhh…,” Koutarou starts. “It’s not ringing anymore, but there’s no sound coming from the line…”
“What?” Kuroo asks with a look of panic on his face.
“Calm down. Did you set up a voicemail for your home phone?” Keiji asks.
Kuroo takes a deep breath. “No, no we didn’t”
“Then it probably just cut out after it was done ringing since Kenma didn't pick up. He’s probably busy playing some game or another. We can call him again in a little bit,” Keiji reasons.
Kuroo sighs and nods, his worry still showing on his face.
“Let’s go play darts while we wait!” Koutarou suggests, and neither Kuroo nor Keiji oppose.
Kuroo is a bit more somber than usual throughout the entire game of darts. Koutarou does his best to cheer him up while Keiji reminds him of all the completely normal reasons Kenma could have for not picking up the phone, but Kuroo remains anxious until they finish and step outside where they can hear each other better. As soon as the music from the party fades away, Koutarou takes out his phone and calls the emergency home phone number again. When he takes the phone away from his ear and shrugs, Kuroo gives him a look of confusion.
“What? What does that shrug mean?” Kuroo asks frantically.
“Same thing as last time—just silence. Sorry bro.”
When Kuroo looks like he’s going to explode into a ball of panic, Keiji speaks up. “Maybe he’s still playing a game or something—you know how he is when he gets immersed into a good game.”
Kuroo pinches the bridge of his nose and breathes for a few moments.
“I’m going home,” he states abruptly. “I’ve gotta make sure Kenma is ok.”
“Wait, bro-” Koutarou starts, but he’s cut off by Keiji.
“How about we try calling one more time right now, then you can go home,” he offers. “We can try with my phone to make sure it isn’t just Ko’s phone acting up.”
Kuroo nods reluctantly. “Yeah, sure. That sounds like a good idea.”
Kuroo feels like the phone rings a lot longer when Keiji calls and he starts to pace in nervous silence.
Keiji takes the phone away from his ear and slips it back into his pocket. Kuroo stops pacing, looking at him expectantly.
“I don’t think your landline works,” Keiji says plainly.
“What do you mean?” Koutarou and Kuroo both ask.
“Well, when Ko called, the phone rang for a little bit before going completely silent, right?” Keiji begins. “This time, the phone rang for what felt like a much longer time before the call connected and the option to leave a voicemail was presented to me, which leads me to believe that Kenma did, in fact, answer the phone the last two times we called and we just couldn’t hear him.”
The two ponder this for a moment before Kuroo nods.
“Yeah. That makes a lot of sense, actually,” Kuroo replies.
“Are you still gonna go home?” Koutarou asks.
“I think so. I still want to make sure Kenma’s doing alright, plus I’ve got to get up early tomorrow.”
Both Bokutos nod at Kuroo in goodbye and he waves back, before starting his walk to the Kozume-Kuroo home.
***
Kenma jumps at the sound of the doorbell and leaps off of the couch, leaving the blanket wherever it falls. He runs through the house at breakneck speed, turning off all of the lights except for the one in the entryway. He doesn’t want to risk someone finding out that he’s home if they didn’t already know.
A sharp rapping begins at the front door, presumably whoever rang the bell. Kenma isn’t going to open the door no matter who or what may be on the other side—he doesn’t trust anyone in the least bit in this uneasy state, much less whoever could be on the other side of the door. After all of the lights are off, Kenma sprints to the bedroom and opens the closet door.
Kenma tries to regulate his breathing, but something feels off. As he listens to the sounds of his breath, he figures it out. The knocking stopped. Kenma starts to hyperventilate. He frantically pulls boxes of clothes out from the corner of their closet and dives into the small open space that’s left where they were. From where he’s sitting, he can’t reach the closet door.
He hears the sound of the back door closing and his heart starts pounding in his ears. He can’t hear anything except for blood rushing through his veins and his own panicked thoughts when he stands and pulls the boxes back into the closet, closing the door swiftly. Kenma can hardly even think as he starts packing the boxes back into neat stacks around him, his fight or flight instincts having taken over while he tries to hide himself as well as possible.
Once the boxes are fully obstructing Kenma from view, he curls in on himself and pulls his knees to his chest. He can’t breathe and his anxieties are louder now that he doesn’t have a task to distract himself. His thoughts overlap and his ears ring, so he lifts his hands to cover his ears tightly as he breathes as slowly as he can, trying to regain enough control over himself that he might be able to assess his situation a bit more rationally.
Kenma manages to catch his breath, but through the cracks in the boxes and the closet door he can see that someone turns on the bedroom light. He holds his breath and takes his hands away from his ears,opting to cover his mouth as he starts to sob. This is it. He’s gonna die cowering in the corner of his closet—if the murderer doesn’t decide to torture him first. Kenma starts to sob harder as a shadow covers some of the light filtering in. He’s too young to die. He hasn’t cleared the secret level in the latest game he downloaded. He hasn’t streamed as much as he wants to. He and Kuroo haven’t updated their whole house. He’s not married. He doesn’t have kids. All the things he wants in life flash through his mind as he hears the closet door opening and releases a fearful whimper.
“...Kenma?” Comes a voice from outside of his small box fort. “Kenma, it’s me.”
The voice sounds familiar enough, but he can’t tell who it is in his adrenaline fogged state, much less respond to whoever it is.
The boxes start to move and Kenma buries himself further into the corner, still not convinced that whoever it is out there won’t kill him.
One of the top boxes is removed from its place atop the tower and Kuroo’s face peers over the remaining cubes. Kenma breaks out into heaving sobs of relief. He’s safe. Kuroo’s home and they’re both safe.
Seeing tears stream down Kenma’s face spurs Kuroo into action. He lifts the rest of the boxes and moves them out of the closet all at once before taking their place in front of Kenma in the closet. He lifts his boyfriend into his lap and wraps his arms around Kenma’s shaking body, shushing him softly.
“Shhh, baby… it’s ok… I’m here…”
The two stay like that for a while, Kenma in Kuroo’s lap while he comforts him with whispered reassurances, a hand rubbing his back softly.
Once Kenma is able to breathe normally again, Kuroo tilts Kenma’s head up and kisses his forehead, nose, and then his lips. Pulling away, Kuroo finally asks the question he’s had on his mind since he first noticed the tears on Kenma’s cheeks.
“What happened?”
Kenma takes a deep shaky breath and recounts the events of the night from the time he got home to when Kuroo found him in the closet and Kuroo's face contorts into one of sympathy and pain.
“Oh Kitten…,” he trails off, pulling Kenma into another tight hug. “I’m sorry, Kenma. That was all my fault. I shouldn’t have left you alone—I know how much you hate it. I’m the one who called the house so many times, and I’m the one who was at the front door earlier. I’m so so sorry, kitten.”
Kenma pushes Kuroo away from him lightly. “It’s not your fault at all, Kuro. I’m a grown man, I should be able to handle myself home alone at night.”
Kuroo sighs and shakes his head. “Why don’t we talk about it more tomorrow. We’re both pretty upset and we’ll probably be able to think it through better with clear heads.” Kenma nods in agreement as Kuroo continues. “Do you think you can stand or walk? I think we should probably get you into bed.”
Kenma nods again and climbs out of Kuroo's lap. Kuroo straightens himself and offers a hand to Kenma, who takes it and stands on shaky legs while they walk to their bed. Kenma climbs under the blankets and sits up, waiting for Kuroo to join him and watches as he returns everything in the room to how it was before Kenma hid in the closet.
Once the room is righted, Kuroo walks to Kenma and takes one of his hands.
“You’re still shaking, baby,” he says softly. “And your breathing is still ragged. I’ll go make you some tea—”
“No!” Kenma cuts Kuroo off and grabs his arm tightly. Kuroo gives him a look of concern and Kenma looks at his lap, releasing Kuroo’s arm. “I-I’m sorry, I just really don’t want to be alone right now…”
Kuroo’s confusion melts into sympathy. “You’re lucky I kept up my training regimen after I quit volleyball,” he teases, easily lifting Kenma from the bed and maneuvering him so that Kenma can cling to Kuroo’s front like a koala.
“I’ll just take you with me to make some tea,” he quips, walking into their kitchen. Kuroo takes out as much of the kitchenware he can with one hand, always supporting Kenma with the other. Eventually, Kuroo can’t finish making the tea one-handed.
“I need you to hold on tight, okay, Kitten? I need both hands to finish the tea,” Kuroo says softly.
Kenma nods and strengthens his grip around Kuroo’s neck and waist, securing himself to Kuroo’s chest. Kuroo releases his human backpack slowly, making sure Kenma won’t fall before he finishes preparing the tea and kettle.
As they wait for the water to boil, Kuroo notices that Kenma is shivering so he walks them both into the living room, arms having returned to supporting Kenma. He lifts the blanket from where it was tossed on the back of the couch and drapes it over Kenma’s shoulders, letting the rest of the blanket lie on Kenma’s back and hang down in front of his legs. He helps Kenma finish situating the blanket and returns to holding his boyfriend.
By the time the blanket is finally in a comfortable position, the kettle whistles from the other room. Kuroo makes sure to step carefully to avoid tripping over the blanket when he walks back into the kitchen. Kenma grips tightly to Kuroo once again so he can have his hands back and pour their tea.
Having poured both mugs of tea, Kuroo brings one arm back to supporting Kenma’s weight and lifts the first mug with his other hand.
“Can you carry one of the mugs for me, babe?” Kuroo asks, bringing the mug in his hand near their heads so Kenma can grab it.
“Mhm,” is the response, and Kenma takes the steaming cup. He’s careful about where he holds it so he doesn’t burn Kuroo with it.
Kuroo takes the other cup in his now free hand and returns to their bedroom, gently setting Kenma down on the edge of the bed. Kenma sets his mug down next to his phone on his bedside table and takes a moment to check all of his missed calls and texts. Not wanting to deal with it at the moment, he sets the device back down with the screen down—he didn’t want to be reminded of it every time he got an alert and it lit up.
Kuroo rounds the bed and puts his mug on his own bedside table. For the first time since he returned, he notices what he’s wearing and lightly chuckles, catching Kenma’s attention.
“Will you be ok if I leave the room to change and wash the fake blood off of my face?” Kuroo asks.
Kenma pauses to think for a second before nodding. “I’ll be alright. Can you keep the door open though?”
Kuroo, having grabbed some clothes and stopped to stand in front of the door to the master bathroom, smiles cheekily. “Well if you want to watch all you have to do is say so…” he teases.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Kenma says lightheartedly, throwing a small decorative pillow at his troublesome boyfriend. Kuroo shoots him one last grin before stepping into their bathroom to change.
While he waits, Kenma grabs the remote and flicks on the tv. He picks up his tea with his other hand and starts to sip on it as he starts to scroll through Netflix.
“Whatcha looking for?” Kuroo asks when he walks back into the room. Now wearing a comfortable pair of pajamas, he climbs over the bed to his side and sidles up next to Kenma.
“Nothing in particular. Is there something you wanna watch?”
“...Sharknado?” Kuroo suggests. They often watch terrible movies to laugh at them when they need something mindless to do, and ‘something mindless’ seems perfect for the time being.
“Sure,” Kenma says, maneuvering to the information screen for Sharknado. He finishes the last few sips of his tea soon after pressing play and sets both his empty mug and the remote on his bedside table.
Kuroo rests against the headboard and gets comfortable, adjusting the pillows and blankets around himself before he pulls Kenma into his side. Kenma glances up at him, offering him a small smile before laying his head against Kuroo’s shoulder, and settling against his chest and side. Reaching for his tea, Kuroo notes that Kenma isn’t shaking or shivering anymore and his breathing has finally returned to normal. He smiles into his mug, taking a drink of his now somewhat lukewarm tea.
As the movie continues on, they laugh and point out obvious mistakes. Kuroo finishes his tea and places his mug on his bedside table. He can take care of the dishes tomorrow, right now Kenma still needs him. Noticing Kenma’s droopy eyes, Kuroo shakes him a little.
“I’m gonna turn off the lights quick, okay?”
Kenma nods and sits up so Kuroo can stand and get to the light switch across the room. On his way back to bed, Kuroo grabs the remote and turns the volume of the tv down just a little bit. Leaving the remote on top of the blankets in front of him, he positions himself next to Kenma once again, this time gently guiding him into a lying position so that he’ll be able to fall asleep more comfortably.
Once they’ve both been laying down for a while, Kenma’s breathing evens out. Kuroo flicks off the tv and looks down to Kenma’s head resting on his chest, smiling when he sees that his boyfriend is finally asleep.
Satisfied that he’s finally completed all of his duties as a good boyfriend for the time being, Kuroo shifts further down the bed and into a more comfortable sleeping position, quickly falling asleep with his hands in Kenma’s hair and Kenma’s head resting over his heart.