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The last game they play in the spring tournament feels like a bookend to Tetsurou’s time at Nekoma. He knows he still has classes to finish and entrance exams to study for, but without the hours spent in the gym playing volleyball, the end feels suffocatingly close. Maybe that’s why he’s been spending every hour he can laying around in Kenma’s room, trying so hard to cling to the normality and consistency he’ll have no choice but leave behind in a few months.
“Which would you rather play against, a team made up of six Yaku-sized Levs or two Lev-sized Yakus?”
“Please never bring up the concept of six Levs to me ever again.”
“So, you’d want to play against two 196 cm Yakus?”
“I’d want to play against one hundred 196 cm Yakus before I would increase the number of Levs in the world.”
“Way mean.”
Kenma shrugs. Tetsurou’s sitting on the floor in front of Kenma’s bed. He has a textbook in front of him that he’s not even pretending to be reading as he scrolls through his socials. Kenma seems more jumpy than usual and Tetsurou’s trying to figure out how to ask him about it. Or if he even should. It’s not exactly a science figuring out when Kenma needs a small push to open up, versus when he needs time to sort out his own thoughts before he’ll be ready. Usually, Tetsurou is good at deciphering between the two. Something’s different and he hates that he can’t figure out what.
Is this what it will be like next year? Only worse? Kenma will be here and he’ll be away, and more and more each day he’ll lose what it’s like to know what his best friend is thinking. He sighs heavily, feeling dramatic.
“What’s wrong?” Kenma asks.
“Nothing.” Tetsurou smiles. He’s sure Kenma doesn’t buy it, but he lets it drop anyway. Tetsurou’s supposed to be the one figuring out what’s bothering Kenma, not the other way around.
“Can I ask you something?” Kenma’s voice is even. His eyes are still trained on the screen of his handheld. Tetsurou’s head lolls to the side, looking at Kenma, his head resting on the bed. Tetsurou makes a noise in the affirmative, telling Kenma to go on. “You’ve had girls confess to you, right?”
Tetsurou sits up straighter, looks at Kenma. Huh, is that’s what’s been bothering him? “I have.”
“What’s it like?”
“I don’t believe you haven’t had even one confession.” Tetsurou really doesn’t – Kenma is so…cute? Surely, he’s been confessed to. Though if he has, wouldn’t Tetsurou know about it? He thought Kenma was just quiet about that stuff. Maybe he’d kept any confessions to himself if he didn’t return the feelings. No need to tell Tetsurou if he wasn’t going to start dating someone. Not that he’d need to tell Tetsurou he was planning on dating someone. Tetsurou isn’t, like, the gatekeeper to Kenma’s time. Tetsurou’s losing the plot.
Kenma huffs. “I haven’t.”
“Okay, okay. What did you want to know?”
“How does it happen?” Kenma’s put his game down and is looking directly at Tetsurou now. Clearly this answer is somehow important to him. “I know that sometimes girls write it in a letter, sometimes girls confess in person, but what do they actually say?”
Tetsurou’s mind jumps between possibilities but still can’t find the significance of the question. “It’s different for everyone, but I guess the ones I’ve gotten usually say something about seeing me play or seeing me do well in class. And then they say they like me and that they would like to get to know me better, or something like that.” Tetsurou laughs at himself. He moves to look more fully at his phone. Why is he feeling embarrassed? “Is that what you wanted to know?”
He hears Kenma shift behind him. “Yes. Thank you.”
Enough time passes that Tetsurou’s body has shifted from the awkwardness it was feeling at Kenma’s question. He guesses he should feel better that he has a reason for Kenma’s behaviour. Apparently Kenma likes someone. Interesting. “I should get back home for dinner. Dad’s actually going to be there tonight.”
Kenma nods. “I’ll walk you.”
Tetsurou’s eyebrows draw down in confusion but he nods. “Okay.”
Kenma takes him all the way to Tetsurou’s doorstep. Tetsurou’s spine tingles in a way he doesn’t analyse. Kenma grabs on to Tetsurou’s sleeve, right by his wrist. “Kuro.” He’s not looking up at Tetsurou, instead staring past him into the setting sun. Tetsurou’s heartrate picks up without his permission. “I was wondering if it’d be the same for me, but maybe not. I have seen you play volleyball and I do know you do well in class. But that’s not really it...” Kenma’s hands are now holding onto themselves, fingers flexing and pulling at each other. “I don’t know, maybe it is the same. I like you, Kuro.”
Tetsurou’s breath stops in his throat, his jaw hangs open. “Oh.”
Kenma nods. “It felt like it was something I should tell you. I don’t think I’ve ever not told you something, so I thought I should tell you.” He looks up at Tetsurou now. Tetsurou has never realised how small Kenma is. Which is a silly thing, considering how much of his life has been spent in a sport focusing on height. But still, Kenma is small. “Was that okay – should I not have told you?”
Tetsurou realises he’s gone silent. He moves to pat Kenma on the shoulder, pulls him into what he hopes won’t feel to Kenma like a forced hug. “Of course, it’s okay. Thank you for telling me.” He pulls back and feels his face get warm. “I haven’t thought about – I don’t feel…”
Kenma smiles at him and Tetsurou’s relieved to see it look genuine. “I know you don’t, Kuro.” He’s thoughtful. “That’s not why people confess though, right? Or it shouldn’t be. They shouldn’t have expectations when they confess. I don’t expect you to reciprocate just because I said something. I guess…” He looks away again. “I guess if you could keep letting me get to know you…”
Tetsurou nods, feeling a bit dumb. “Of course.”
“And don’t make it weird. Nothing’s different.” Kenma pushes on Tetsurou’s shoulder. “I would have liked you either way, it’s just this way you know. So, you shouldn’t change anything.”
“Right, okay.” Tetsurou agrees, and Kenma gives him a dirty look. “I won’t! I won’t!” He relents, laughing. Kenma blinks, he blushes.
“Okay. Good.” Kenma nods. “See you tomorrow, Kuro.”
“Good night, Kenma.”
~
Tetsurou wakes up and gets ready for school like he did yesterday and the day before. He gets dressed in his uniform, eats his breakfast and washes his face. He makes it all the way to Kenma’s front door before he fully registers the difference between this morning and last.
I like you, Kuro.
Right. He’d told Kenma he wouldn’t act any differently, that Kenma’s– Kenma’s confession wouldn’t change anything between them. Tetsurou feels split between laughing with a bit of delirium, and turning around and staying home today. He pulls out his phone.
Tetsurou:
Outside.
He leans against the front of the house as he waits for Kenma to come down, playing a few rounds of words with friends before Kenma drags himself up and out of bed. Tetsurou shouldn’t worry about any change in behaviour. They’ve been friends for so long that most of his actions are preprogrammed and automatic at this point. Which is good, right?
Kenma doesn’t have his phone out this morning as they walk from the subway stop to the school. That doesn’t stop Tetsurou from placing his hand on the small of Kenma’s back, keeping him safe and steering him away from lamp posts. When Tetsurou’s hand splays against Kenma’s jacket, Kenma’s eyes dart to Tetsurou, a small smile crossing his face.
It’s then that Tetsurou registers the action, the closeness, the familiarity in touch and care. Maybe he should let go. It’s not like Kenma needs it today, without his phone distracting him. But if he moves his hand now, will that be even more obvious? Will it make Kenma feel embarrassed or uncomfortable? Is Tetsurou feeling embarrassed? Is that why his face feels warmer and his hand tingles?
“Kuro! Careful!” Kenma’s arm darts out, blocking Tetsurou’s path before he absentmindedly walked into the intersection in front of them. Tetsurou drops his hand. “Are you okay?” Kenma sounds worried.
“Yeah, sorry.” Is he getting redder? He needs to calm down. Kenma doesn’t look satisfied, but nods anyway. Tetsurou keeps his hands in his pockets the rest of the way.
~
“Are you both going to the meeting tonight?” Tetsurou asks Yaku and Kai at lunch.
The two nod. “Think everyone’s staying for a game or two after,” Kai adds.
Tetsurou nods too. “I brought my gear just in case.”
Kenma grumbles next to them. “Isn’t the season done? Why do we have to play more?”
“Careful, future Captain.” Yaku smirks. “Have to keep up the team spirit now that you’re leading.”
Kenma’s face scrunches in distaste. “You don’t know that yet. We still have to vote.”
Kai smiles at him. “I’d be ready for your name to be called.”
Kenma groans, putting his head down on the table in front of them on folded arms. “That’s going to be so much work.”
“It’s not so bad,” Tetsurou assures. “You already play a huge role in deciding game strategy.”
Kenma looks up at him. “If you say so.”
“I do. Now eat.”
~
The team meets at the gym in old work out clothes. Even though it is only officially the first and second years’ source of pride to choose a team captain, the entire team shows up. It seems like a waste to spend what is, in all likelihood, their last day together in the gym without playing at least a game or two.
Kuro speaks to all of them. “Today you’ll have the responsibility and privilege to choose the captain for next year’s team. We’ll be doing this anonymously. Yaku will be handing out slips of paper and pencils to each of you. Please choose a second year for the captain position, and either a second or first year for the role of vice captain. Kai will then come by and grab the papers to count.”
He watches each of his juniors fill out their answers one by one. Tetsurou’s not sure what the turn out will be. He knows Kenma bemoans the responsibility and time strain volleyball can put on him, but Tetsurou’s sure if he’s chosen, he will lead the team wonderfully. Tetsurou believes Kenma can do a lot of things wonderfully if he puts himself out there.
Kai reads each of the papers. “Next year’s Nekoma captain will be Kenma. His vice-captain will be Tora.”
The room claps loudly for them. Tetsurou smiles bright and wide and spots the look of displeasure on Kenma’s face. He starts laughing, maybe too loudly, because Kenma looks up at him and gives in to his own smile.
“Congratulations to the both of you!” Tetsurou claps his hands. “Why don’t you both pick the teams for today’s scrimmage?”
Even though there is no real need for it, the feeling of competition permeates the gym. Tetsurou’s heart aches with the knowledge this is the last time he’ll be on the court with each of them. He hopes he doesn’t get old and forget all of this– that he’s able to hold onto the fond memories that have shaped him into the person he is. Tetsurou thinks he’s tried as hard today as he ever has, trying to outrun the passing of time.
He takes the bottom of his shirt, lifting it to wipe the sweat from his forehead. When he opens his eyes again, he catches Kenma staring – not at his face, but at his chest, his stomach. Tetsurou’s body is stuck as he watches Kenma register he’s been caught watching him. Kenma’s eyes dart away quickly, he licks at his lips. If Kenma wasn’t already red from exertion, Tetsurou is sure he would have flushed pink at the exchange.
Tetsurou heads to the club room without letting himself think about it. Why was Kenma embarrassed he’d been caught? Kenma gets lost in his own mind frequently – Tetsurou catches Kenma staring off into space all the time.
So, it couldn’t have been that. Kenma wouldn’t have shifted his eyes so quickly if it was. Was this part of it too, part of Kenma liking him? Was Tetsurou having such a hard time with all of this because even though Kenma said he liked him, he still couldn’t connect that statement with the reality of it? With the idea of Kenma wanting him like that? Tetsurou’s heart beats rapidly against his ribcage as he gets changed. Suddenly he feels very aware of the places his skin show and the eyes that follow him.
~
“I downloaded the 2019 FIVB finals if you want to come over and watch,” Kenma says as they reach his house.
Tetsurou nods. “Yeah, I’ll be over in a bit. I’ll just go shower and change.”
“Okay.”
Tetsurou lets himself into the Kozume residence like he has since he was ten. Kenma’s waiting for him in his room. The door to Kenma’s room is left open a crack, and he sees Kenma put his shirt on over his head. Kenma’s hair is still wet, large drops of water dripping down his pale back. Tetsurou realizes, seeing Kenma like this – is this how Kenma felt after practice?
Kuro finally opens the door, causing Kenma to jump. “I didn’t hear you come in. Creep.”
“I’m not! You invited me over!”
Tetsurou takes in Kenma’s appearance. The shirt Kenma is wearing is years old. Tetsurou knows this because he gifted Kenma that shirt. He thinks it was Kenma’s ninth or tenth birthday. At the time it had been much too big for Kenma. Tetsurou’s grandma had tried to get Tetsurou to choose something else since it didn’t come in Kenma’s size, but Tetsurou was persistent. It was the perfect gift. It had small cats patterned on the fabric, each doing something distinctly human. Tetsurou remembers being so stubborn about it, because at the bottom on the left side, there was a cartoon cat playing video games, and a few centimetres away there was another cat holding a volleyball.
The shirt now fits much tighter on Kenma’s frame, the bottom of the shirt falling an inch or two above the band of his sweatpants. The small Tetsurou and Kenma cats are resting just above the jut of his left hip bone. Kenma pulls his arms through a zip up hoodie, leaving the front undone.
“Didn’t know you still had that.” Tetsurou points to the shirt.
Kenma looks down. “Found it at the back of my closet the other day. Still fits okay.”
He agrees, “Yeah, looks good.” Tetsurou’s mouth feels dry.
“Let me grab my laptop.”
Tetsurou sits on Kenma’s bed, his back against the wall, legs sprawled out in front of him. Kenma places the computer in between them before mirroring Tetsurou’s position. “This the Russia vs. USA game?”
Kenma nods. “Mmhm.”
Tetsurou’s brain feels full of cotton as he takes in the day’s events. So much has happened since last night. It’s okay to admit it, he thinks, just to himself, just inside his own mind, that he does like Kenma. That he thinks he may have liked Kenma for a long while. He looks to Kenma’s profile, soft and calm in the afternoon light. I think I’d like to kiss him.
It doesn’t change things though. He still has to think about Kenma first. About what will happen next year and every year after that. He looks back toward the screen.
The ends of Kenma’s hair keep dripping, wetting the blanket between them. It’s too distracting – Tetsurou can’t keep his eyes on the screen. “Do you have a hairdryer?”
“Why?”
“To blow dry your hair.”
“That’s too much effort.”
“It’s really not.” Tetsurou rolls his eyes. “Pause the game and go get it. I’ll do it for you.” Kenma pouts, but leaves the room anyway. When he returns, he plugs in the dryer so it will reach where Tetsurou is sat. “On the ground, here.” He motions for Kenma to sit between his legs.
He turns on the dryer and starts working his way through Kenma’s hair, dragging his fingers through the strands to separate them. Kenma hums from deep in his chest, “That feels nice.” Tetsurou doesn’t respond, just keeps working.
It’s so much softer than he expected. He’d heard that bleached hair can get damaged but Kenma’s feels so smooth as it glides between his fingers. Kenma has angled his head backward and Tetsurou can see his eyes have closed, a soft look of contentment on his features.
Tetsurou is disappointed when Kenma’s hair is fully dry. He lets himself have a few more moments pulling the soft strands through his fingers before turning off the machine.
“There.” He smiles, squeezing each of Kenma’s shoulders in his hands. “All done.”
Kenma moves to sit next to him again. “Wow.” Tetsurou’s a bit shocked. “You’ve never done that before school, have you?”
“Why would I?” Kenma pushes his hair back with his hands, it quickly falls back to shield his face. “I always shower right before bed and just sleep on it wet.”
Tetsurou thinks he’s nodding too much as Kenma explains. “You should.” He pushes a strand of hair behind Kenma’s ear. “It looks really nice.” Realising that he’s basically cradling Kenma’s face, he coughs and points to the computer. “Press play again.”
They’re quiet for a few rallies. “I know what you said yesterday,” Kenma starts, “but I was wondering…” They turn toward each other. “If you changed your mind – do you think – would it bother you, if that happened?”
Tetsurou feels caught out, feels absolutely seen. He shrugs a shoulder. “I wouldn’t mind.”
Kenma nods. “Okay.”
~
The next morning, Tetsurou’s pulling on his jacket when his phone buzzes.
Kenma:
Downstairs
On any other day Tetsurou would have to wait at least 10 minutes at Kenma’s door to make his way outside. “Good morning, early riser.” Tetsurou grins, straightening himself. He notices the difference in Kenma immediately – Kenma’s hair. No longer sitting straight and covering his face, half of Kenma’s hair is pulled back and knotted at the top of his head. “Whoa.” Tetsurou can’t help but gawk.
Kenma self-consciously pushes back a strand that had fallen into his face. “It’s stupid.” He goes to pull out the bun, but Tetsurou’s hand catches him by the wrist.
“No, it looks good.”
Kenma nods, keeping his head down. “Okay.” Kenma leads the way down the sidewalk to the subway stop. Tetsurou trails behind him. “You coming?” He calls back to Tetsurou.
~
They’re sitting together with Yaku and Kai at lunch. Without thought or consideration, he begins to shift vegetables to and from Kenma’s bento. Trading in things he knows Kenma will eat for ones he’ll ignore. It’s an action crafted from years of knowing and looking after someone. Why is it now that it feels so…romantic? He just wants Kenma to take care of himself. Or does he want to be the one to take care of him?
He wonders if these thoughts had always been lingering and floating at the back of his mind. If his subconscious had pushed all of them away because somewhere inside, he knew it would cause confusion and distress.
Tetsurou gets stuck in his musings, chopsticks midair on their way to deposit another bite to Kenma’s dish. He shouldn’t be surprised that Kenma leans forward and takes the bite directly from his utensils. He guesses that would be a fair interpretation of the pose. Has he fed Kenma before? Is that something else his brain didn’t let him take stock of? Neither Yaku or Kai seem surprised by the action, so maybe he has. Kenma’s lips curls around the bite of food, his tongue darts out afterward to lick away anything left on his lips. Cute, Tetsurou thinks and he immediately blushes.
“Have you narrowed down your university list?” Kai asks from across the table.
Tetsurou feels himself tense at the question. “I talked to Dad about it a bit.” He keeps it vague, not ready to solidify the idea of graduating in this conversation or his mind. “Nothing decided yet.”
Kai nods. Yaku tsks. “Putting it off to the very end then. How unlike you.” It reminds Tetsurou why they used to not get along.
Tetsurou shrugs. “Just weighing my options.” Kenma’s quiet through the exchange. Tetsurou wishes he knew what Kenma thought about it all – about him going away, them being separated.
When Kenma finishes his meal, he stands up, even though everyone is still eating. “You can talk to them about it,” he says to Tetsurou.
Tetsurou looks up at Kenma. “Huh?”
Kenma turns to the others. “On Monday, I told Kuro that I like him. I don’t care that you know, but if you could keep it to yourselves, I’d appreciate it.” Kenma tugs on the sleeves of his jacket, the only proof that he’s uncomfortable despite the level tone of his voice. “I’m going back to my class for the rest of lunch.” He nods at them all before leaving.
Yaku asks the first question. “Are you dating now, then?”
Tetsurou huffs a surprised noise, perhaps too loudly. “What? No.”
“You rejected him? Really?”
“No.” Tetsurou doesn’t like the word. It feels too mean? Too negative? Just not right. “I mean I guess I did, yeah.”
“You guess?” Yaku looks at him in disbelief. “Are you an idiot?”
“Probably.” Tetsurou sighs loudly.
“You’ve kind of been leading him on for a couple years then,” Yaku accuses.
“What do you mean?”
Kai’s voice is slow, like he’s talking to a child. “Kuroo…” He looks to Yaku.
“Do you like him?”
“No? Yes? I don’t know.” Tetsurou puts his head down on folded arms.
“You are an idiot. I always knew.” Yaku nods sagely.
“It doesn’t sound like a good idea to me,” Tetsurou explains. “I’m probably leaving in a few months. Maybe he’s just feeling like this because of that? Maybe it’s just a reaction to change. I’m the older one. I need to be level headed. To really think and make sure he doesn’t get hurt. It’s my responsibility.”
“Sounds like all that is something you’re telling yourself,” Yaku says, “not something Kenma would think.”
“That’s the problem though, right? He wouldn’t think it – so I have to.”
“You’re going to let both of you be miserable to…protect him? I think Yaku might be right,” Kai says it slowly. “You’re kind of an idiot, Kuroo.”
“You guys are terrible friends.”
~
“Can you come over to help me with chemistry tonight?” Kenma asks, once they’re sitting on the subway ride home.
“Sure. What’s the topic?” Tetsurou settles his bag on his lap.
“Limiting reagents.”
“Nice. You’ll be fine.”
Kenma makes a noncommittal sound. He slides down lower in his seat, resting his head on Tetsurou’s shoulder. “Wake me up when we’re there?” he asks softly.
“Nah, I’ll let you sleep. Make you ride the train all the way to the end.”
Kenma grumbles, elbowing Tetsurou in the side, before he wiggles himself more fully in position to sleep. His opposite hand rests lightly on the crease of Tetsurou’s elbow. There’s no one there to witness Tetsurou softly smiling down at his sleeping friend.
~
Their things are spread out over a floor table in the middle of Tetsurou’s room. Kenma opens his notebook, going over the scant notes he’s written about the topic. Tetsurou’s never been particularly distracted by Kenma before. They spend so much time together, Kenma’s presence usually feels like an extension of his own. There’s an easy comfort to being together that has always given Tetsurou comfort. Today feels different; today he feels decidedly preoccupied with watching Kenma. It’s cold today in his bedroom, wind from the drafty window blowing across the room, making Kenma’s skin goosepimple. Tetsurou wonders what it would feel like to touch him.
“Can I borrow a sweatshirt?” Kenma asks, and Tetsurou blushes, as if Kenma had been able to read the thoughts in his head.
“Yeah, go grab whatever from the closet.”
Kenma pulls out a worn Nekoma hoodie. He tugs it over this head, large letters spelling TETSUROU resting against his back. The shirt is large on Kenma; his flips the sleeves several times before his fingertips emerge from the material.
“Thanks,” he mumbles and sits. The hoodie pulled Kenma’s bun out of place. Tetsurou watches Kenma reach up and pull out the elastic, running his fingers through his hair to settle it in place.
Tetsurou clears his throat. “Come here, so I can explain.” He scoots to the side, pulling his books to the left half of the table, leaving a space for Kenma next to him. Kenma pushes his notebook across the table then crawls around it on his knees. They sit completely aligned, thighs and hips and shoulders.
“This stuff is so stupid. I hate formulas,” Kenma grumbles. “Moles. Molar mass. Mass. How can you have two words that make up three variables. Use new words.”
Tetsurou huffs a laugh. “We’ll use unit analysis instead, then you don’t have to memorise anything. Sound better?”
Kenma’s still frowning but he relents. “I guess.” He places his chin on the table in front of him. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to take real notes next year.”
Kenma will be so successful one day, Tetsurou is sure of it. Once Kenma can do what interests him, in ways that work for him, Kenma will be absolutely amazing. And Tetsurou will be there watching and supporting and being sure to never hold him back.
“Ah, you’ll be fine.” Tetsurou ruffles Kenma’s hair. Kenma narrows his eyes at him.
After Tetsurou’s explanation, Kenma works through the first problem set on his own. “Can you check over these?” He turns the notebook toward Tetsurou.
Tetsurou leans closer toward Kenma, angling his head to see the work. “Looks good.” He looks up without realising how close his face is to Kenma’s. Kenma looks so soft, so pretty in the afternoon light streaming through the window, the air moving through the room lightly blowing his hair.
Kenma’s eyes are trained on Tetsurou’s mouth. His hand comes to rest on Tetsurou’s chest right above his heart. The staccato thump thump thump beneath Kenma’s palm betrays him.
Even if Tetsurou’d had the forethought to stop him, he doesn’t think he would have. Kenma shifts himself forward, lips meeting Tetsurou’s. Tetsurou’s heart pounds against his ribcage as he more fully slots their mouths together. He lets his mind breathe a solid yes before he pulls back.
“Kenma.” Tetsurou’s voice is strained, apologetic. He pushes Kenma’s hand down and away. “I’m – ”
Kenma’s eyes look back down to his notebook. “I thought I should try...” he explains, “just to see if it would matter.” He smiles sadly at Tetsurou before he packs up to leave.
~
Before Tetsurou leaves his house to go to school the next day, he receives a text.
Kenma:
Not feeling well today.
Go to school without me.
Tetsurou groans at his phone. What is he doing? What’s the point of him? So much for being the responsible one, for not hurting Kenma. He hits himself on the forehead with the corner of his phone. He takes a deep breath. Maybe Kenma really is just sick. Maybe he has a stomach ache or a spring flu. Tetsurou should bring him medicine and sports drinks later.
The day drags on. He checks his phone regularly, hoping he’s accidentally missed texts from Kenma. He hasn’t. He's being an idiot. It’s exactly like Kenma said – they’ve never not told each other things. So Tetsurou should tell him this thing. This being scared thing. This not wanting to leave him thing. This definite swell of butterflies in his stomach that he’s so worried will get out thing. Kenma will help it make sense. Kenma always makes sense to Tetsurou.
When the bell rings, he sprints down hallways and stairwells to intercept the student put in charge of bringing Kenma home his missing work. He hurriedly takes the notebooks from Kenma’s classmate and rushes out of the school.
It’s been actual years since Tetsurou has waited at the door to the Kozume residence instead of letting himself in. It doesn’t feel right to just go in today. He waits patiently as he knocks on the door, sending Kenma a text so he won’t be surprised when he opens it. Kenma’s school work is in his backpack, a plastic bag from the corner store hanging from his wrist.
“Hi.” Tetsurou is breathless. He doesn’t really have anything planned; his mind empties upon seeing Kenma’s face.
“Hi.”
The quiet that fills the space between them is so foreign. It itches at Tetsurou’s skin. “I bought some stuff to help you get better.” He hands over the plastic bag. More quiet follows. “And your class work.” He quickly unzips his backpack, thrusting the papers at Kenma as well.
Kenma nods. “Thanks.”
Tetsurou clears his throat. “Are you feeling any better?”
One of Kenma’s shoulders moves up in a half shrug. “I guess.”
Tetsurou’s mouth doesn’t let him brain catch up. “Kenma.” He says the name like a shout. Kenma almost jumps at the volume. “I have to tell you something.”
“What?”
“I like you, Kenma.” The statement hangs loudly in the space. “I do. But I’m terrified,” Tetsurou explains. “Next year everything changes. I’ll be gone and you’ll be here, and even after that there are so many amazing things you’ll do and experience, and I don’t ever want to be in your way or be the reason you don’t get to have something or do something. I want you to get everything you want. So, the idea that you’d want me, well, that…” He finally slows down. Takes a breath. “That terrifies me.”
“Kuro…” Kenma’s staring up at him, a deep look of understanding. “Being with you won’t stop me from doing anything. It won’t hold me back somehow. You know that, right?”
“Do I?” Tetsurou’s face falls. “I mean, I do know it, but sometimes, I don’t feel it. Kenma, I think you’re the most amazing person on this planet.”
“That’s a lot to live up to.”
Tetsurou shrugs. “So how could I think I’m enough for someone like that?”
“Kuro, you idiot.” Kenma moves forward, quickly wrapping his arms around Tetsurou, holding him so tightly. “You’re always taking care of me. I forget that I need to take care of you too.” Tetsurou winds his arms around Kenma, lays his cheek to Kenma’s hair.
“I’m going to miss you,” Tetsurou whispers like it’s a terrible secret.
“Neither of us are dying.”
“Still.”
Kenma huffs a laugh. “You’re a huge sap, you know that?”
“You’re going to miss me too, right?”
Kenma moves to look up at Tetsurou, his chin resting on Tetsurou’s chest. “I am. Very much.”
“Kenma?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you still want to date me? Even though I’m needy? Even though I’ll need constant reassurance that you like me? That I’m not ruining your life by keeping you for myself?”
Kenma rubs his face against Tetsurou’s jacket. Hiding himself. “I’ll want you every day. I’m sure. If you really do like me too.”
“I do,” Tetsurou quickly assures. “I’m sorry for making you wait.”
“3 whole days.” Kenma pouts at him. “Absolute torture.”
Tetsurou laughs. “How can I make it up to you?”
“Take me out? Tomorrow night?”
“It’s a date.”
~
The first thing Tetsurou does on Friday morning is text Kenma.
Tetsurou:
Good morning boyfriend.
He has to wait a full 30 minutes for a response but -
Kenma:
You’re embarrassing.
<3
It’s well worth the wait.