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“C’mon, man! Are you going to make me do all the work?”
Golden eyes glanced up briefly before returning to the scratched up screen. “Mmm, yeah. It’s your job anyway.”
Standing up tall and wiping sweat off his brow, the raven-haired teen glanced down fondly at his best friend.
“Yeah, but we’ve got to pick up the car, Kenma.”
Another half-heaerted shrug was offered. “Then work faster, Kuroo.”
Tetsuro snickered in amusement as he re-tied the kerchief around his head and started hauling the heavy boxes onto the back of the delivery truck again. Black ink glistened against his golden skin as the summer sun continued to beat down on him mercilessly. Kenma had been following the shade for the last few hours and was finally nestled in a nook that would keep him as cool and sun-free as possible for the rest of Kuroo’s shift.
The loading dock was full of loud noises and bustle, so Kenma pulled the headphones back over his ears to block it all out until Kuroo was finished. After twelve years of friendship it had become second nature for the gaming teen to keep track of Kuroo in his peripheral vision. Third Year of high school had been difficult for him without his best friend to hunt down between classes and during volleyball practices.
Now that he was a graduate himself, it was a relief.
The manager of the warehouse had been irate when Kenma first began showing up to visit Kuroo after class and practice. He complained that it wasn’t safe or legal, etc., but Kenma’s penchant for doing literally nothing but sitting still for hours on end grew on the old man. Small family businesses like his warehouse always had a bit more flex on the legality of loitering, so soon Kenma became a given fixture.
It didn’t hurt that Kuroo was one of their hardest workers.
“You gonna ride with me today?”
Kenma shrugged again. “I don’t know. I kind of want to get started on that new game today. I’m tired of waiting for you to get started on it with me.”
“Ah, don’t be a little piss baby,” Kuroo laughed. “Didn’t you get that game yesterday?”
“Yeah,” Kenma deadpanned.
“C’mon, Akaashi’s already agreed to ride with Bokuto tonight, and I don’t want to give those Fukurodoni bastards another win.”
Kenma waited until Kuroo finished unloading his dolly before speaking again. “Why don’t you ask Tsukishima? Isn’t he coming down for the weekend?”
“Well yeah, but-”
“Kuroo, you can’t keep dumping your boyfriend on other drivers.”
Tetsuro didn’t even have the courtesy to look ashamed. “He’s a fuckin’ bitch to drive with. We’d kill each other.”
Kenma let out a long, dramatic sigh as he turned off the handheld and waited for his best friend to finish loading the truck and locking it up. Half-lidded eyes studied the tattooed teen. Those arms had been muscular since the beginning of high school, but the year of working at the warehouse had really bulked him up and improved his proportions.
All of those muscles had done a favor for the extensive ink Kuroo had been collecting since he was eighteen. That dragon sleeve had been completed a month ago and the inky beast’s snarl gleamed menacingly. Kenma knew that work had already begun on Kuroo’s left calf, this one some kind of wild cat in homage of their time at Nekoma.
“He’s going to get jealous,” the younger teen mumbled as he tugged on the tips of his sloppily dyed hair.
“He’s not,” Kuroo comforted, helping Kenma up and walking towards the office to clock out. “Tsukki’s fine with how things are.”
Kuroo rushed through his shower in the locker room and then Kenma hopped on the back pegs of the bicycle while the other teen raced off. It was one of Kuroo’s defining traits, Kenma thought – doing everything with whole-hearted effort and zeal. It was the polar opposite of how the younger friend made his way through life.
Pale fingers squeezed into golden shoulders as they zipped through traffic.
By the time they arrived at the Haiba auto-repair shop, sweat was already running down their backs and rolling down foreheads. The garage doors were wide open and the smell of oil and fuel wafted out.
“Tetsuro! Kenma! I was hoping you guys would come tonight!!!”
“Hi, Lev,” Kenma sighed while Kuroo greeted their friend with far more energy.
“Didja hear?!” Lev gasped excitedly, all gangly limbs practically vibrating with excitement. “Oikawa’s back and he’s planning on beginning his reign of terror at tonight’s race!”
“Ah, shit,” Kuroo huffed. “Oh well. Bokuto’s got a fat ass so that should give the fucker some trouble.”
Kenma rolled his eyes at Kuroo’s crass description of one of Bokuto’s new favorite techniques. The frighteningly high-spirited man had gotten very good at blocking other drivers from passing him up by sporadically filling openings and keeping a dizzying lame change game.
Oikawa was good, but his normal navigator hadn’t quite kept up with him and it hurt their rankings enough to royally piss off the perfectionist. He had to quit racing so much during the school year to keep on top of his grades, but it looked like he was back for vengeance.
“I wish I could come so bad!” Lev whined dramatically. “My dad’s making me work late on a new customer’s rush job. It’s an American muscle car, at least.”
“That sucks,” Kenma offered in condolences.
“There’s always next time,” Kuroo added with one of his crooked smirks. “Alright, Kenma, get in.”
“Whatever.”
*****
“Hey, hey, hey!”
With music blaring and so many voices chattering, it would be reasonable to assume that it would be difficult to pick any one voice out of the crowd. Kenma grimaced as he was once more faced with the reality that Kuroo’s friend was more than unreasonably loud.
“Hi, Bokuto,” he sighed.
“There you are!” Kuroo shouted fondly before the two banged their forearms against each other in greeting.
“You’re looking mighty fuckable today, my man!” Bokuto complimented, grabbing the recently healed arm and running his fingers over the ink. Is Tsukki-poo gonna be here tonight?”
“Yeah, he’s probably here already,” Kuroo grinned. “Hey, have you seen Oikawa yet? That mouthy bitch is already claiming victory!”
Kenma was almost always annoyed with Bokuto due to his overabundance of energy and his volume setting always being stuck on max, but he was grateful for the fact that anytime the frosted-haired teen showed up he could zone out and be sure that Kuroo wasn’t trying to drag him into a conversation.
European techno was screaming through the speakers and there was a portion of the building shimmering with sweating dancing bodies. Even more people were crowding and hovering around the betting cage and the pile of boxed where the officiator would announce the route and positions. Sharp gold eyes caught sight of [Iwaizumi looking determined, a few new guys, an undercover cop, some regular Kuroo fans, a Yakuza guy-
“Anything we should be concerned about?”
Kenma glanced up to see Kuroo’s fond expression.
“Maybe pass on the first round. A cop’s here already.”
“Good call. Better text Tsukki to let him know.”
“He’s still a minor,” the blond sighed, “so he won’t get into that much trouble.”
Kuroo snickered. “Yeah, but I don’t want to spend my weekend with him by bailing him out or having to call his mother. Again.”
“Technically it was Akaashi bailing you guys and calling Tsukishima’s mother,” Kenma pointed out blandly.
He had barely dodged getting pulled into that fiasco with Kuroo, Bokuto, and Tsukishima thanks to a newly released Final Fantasy game. Kuroo’s jail cell selfie was still Kenma’s phone wallpaper.
“Details, details,” Kuroo guffawed.
“Don’t you know that it’s rude to text people who are literally standing next to you, Alley Cat?” a voice mocked from behind them.
“Hey!” Kuroo greeted excitedly as he looked over his shoulder. “Come to cheer me on, Country Bumpkin?”
The ever-annoying smirking expression towered over them and Kenma didn’t even try to withhold the grimace. Kuroo had always had bad taste in romantic partners, but this asshole really took the cake. It took conscientious effort to remind himself that behind the douchebag front Tsukishima did have some redeeming qualities and did in some demented way care for Tetsuro.
“If you really just wanted a cheerleader, you should be dating someone else,” Tsukishima taunted with a laugh. “I’ve already picked up another ride.” Those amber eyes glanced coldly down at Kenma. “Jealous?”
“Oh man, I always hate when he’s like this,” Kenma thought to himself.
While he had spent many years learning to read people and their intentions, sarcasm was still a huge struggle for him to get a read on, especially from someone as masked and manipulative as Tsukishima. He could never really gauge on any given day how the leggy bastard really felt, and it was stressful to the max.
Especially since he had a long history of being disliked by Kuroo’s partners.
“Mmm, Salt and Vinegar Tsukki!” Kuroo teased, not at all minding having to crane his neck back a bit to look up at his younger boyfriend. “Just how I like you.”
The taunting expression remained on Tsukishima’s face, but he allowed himself to be held around the waist by those tattooed arms. Kenma pulled out his retro handheld and worked on trying to level up his Charizard some more while the love birds sorted things out. It was easier to block out the other two’s caustic flirting if he had a distraction.
The first race was called and ran, a few getting forced over by police as Kenma predicted, and then pretty quickly the undercover cop was “encouraged” out and the next round was organized. Oikawa sneered haughtily at everyone with his million watt presence, Bokuto was barely being restrained by his handler Akaashi, Tsukishima was already pissing off other drivers, and Kenma tried to ignore everything for as long as possible.
The lineup was announced and the squeal of anxious tires and drivers roared.
“You feelin’ good about the route?” Kuroo asked as he made all the necessary minor adjustments for his optimal driving experience.
“Yeah. I guess. It’s kind of annoying.”
“Everything is annoying to you.”
The roar of the first two cars peeling out was nearly deafening anad Kenma was amused to see that Kuroo didn’t even flinch. Maybe the old man was already losing his hearing?
“You were right that Bokuto got Oikawa-”
“Thank fuck.”
“-but we’re going against Tsukishima and Yamamoto.”
Kuroo began cackling and Kenma rolled his eyes.
“Skinny Jeans is making Yamamoto ride bitch in his own car?!”
Kenma slapped the other male loudly in the face with the physical backup map. Kuroo definitely didn’t look sorry and the blond sighed again.
Their car pulled forward, sleek in its red and black, only to be surprised when a silver and black foreign car pulled forward.
“Shit!” Kenma hissed while Kuroo’s knuckles tightened over the steering wheel.
A quick glance down confirmed that there had to be a lag in updating the roster, but there was nothing to be done but re-strategize on the go. Shinsuke Kita and Rintarou Suna threw challenging grins their way before the platinum blond revved up in a taunt.
Sweat prickled at Kuroo’s hairline and he dropped a hand to the shift stick. Shinsuke never really had any surprise moves and he wasn’t erratic like Bokuto, but that calm fucker had frighteningly good consistency and never seemed shaken up.
“At least it’s not the fucking twins,” he muttered under his breath and Kenma grimaced in agreement.
“Tonight wouldn’t be as fun without these next two teams!” the emcee called out to a roar from the crowd.
“DK! DK! DK!” they cheered.
Kuroo wanted to be thrilled in their faith for him, but he was already falling into the zone of concentration.
“The Inarizaki Crew is represented tonight by the fierce driving of the Kitsune,” the emcee continued, “and what a treat to have as a contender the Nekoma Crew leader himself, the Drift King!”
Applause and cheers thundered around them and Kenma grimaced again as he got a text from Akaashi. It looked like Oikawa was already well on his way to claiming a new reign over Tokyo. Neon starting lights went up, practically blinding, but Kenma ignored them in favor of pulling up street camera feeds on his phone and checking them against the route.
Lights flashed, burnt rubber stench filled the air, and the metal beasts jerked and roared as they began their race. All extraneous thoughts stayed behind as Kenma gave Kuroo one final glance.
*****
Daylight was soon to be yawning over the horizon and Kenma paced as quietly as possible in front of Kuroo’s bedroom. The older teen had long since developed a habit of leaving his door open so that Kenma could sneak in anytime he wanted to, but Kenma just couldn’t seem to make himself cross that threshold. Tsukishima was there.
Tsukishima wasn’t the first romantic partner that Kuroo brought home or had sex with. He wasn’t even the first to spend the night, but he had lasted the longest. It made Kenma anxious and he wrung the ends of his hoodie arms. He didn’t want to mess this up for Kuroo. He never wanted to mess things up for Kuroo, but the relationship between the two of them always seemed to become an issue when a romantic and sexual partner came on the scene.
Not for the first time, Kenma angrily wished that he could just spontaneously develop the romantic and sexual gene, or get over whatever it was in his head that kept him and Kuroo from being able to be everything to each other. He had never minded it when Kuroo would spend time with others without him or even when he started doing things of a sexual nature, but when the partners started telling Kuroo to leave him behind or that Kenma was nothing more than a clinger-on who would ruin the rest of his life...well, then Kenma got anxious.
“Hey, you okay?” a voice croaked from the bed before there was a cough and some shuffling around. “Sorry, you’re obviously not.”
Kenma paused at the doorway and watched as Kuroo pulled off blankets and then dug around his clothes on the floor until he pulled up some joggers. With that article of clothing acquired he slipped them on and then padded across the room to sleepily pull the blond into a warm hug.
“Sorry,” Kenma muttered, moving his hands to clench at the joggers’ waistband.
“Nah, it’s nothing. What’s up? Do you need a blowie?”
Blood rushed to the shorter teen’s face and he pressed his burning cheek against the warm naked torso. “N-no, not that.”
It was just another thing that he had to get anxious about with Kuroo’s partners. When they were both in high school Kenma had asked his more experienced friend to help him explore sexual things. Kuroo had been his first and only in anything he had ever done of that nature, and while Kenma hardly ever gave a passing thought to sex, sometimes masturbation just wouldn’t hit the spot for him. And, well, Kuroo gave excellent head.
Those dark eyes were glancing down at him with concern and Kenma felt his fingers digging into those sharp hips as he tried to find the words to explain everything.
He cared for Tetsuro more than anyone else in the world, and Tetsuro had promised to be there for him forever. He liked the easy feeling between them and how they could still find enjoyment together even if they had differing interests. He didn’t regret a moment together, not even when Kuroo forgot to warn him that he was coming and got jizz in his mouth.
But he was scared that he didn’t get Tetsuro completely. He didn’t know why Kuroo needed sex so often or why he needed to be clingy. He didn’t understand when Kuroo got emotionally down and struggled with his emotions. He damn well didn’t understand why his best friend had become addicted to the adrenaline rush of these street races when there were perfectly good racing games that were far safer.
Fear clenched in his throat as he replayed the memory of only a few hours ago. It was Tokyo traffic, notoriously difficult to get through and rife with dangers when you were speeding through the streets at ungodly speeds. Speeds that made it even harder to see things like a college student on a scooter.
Pale fingers dug into those tanned hips and Kenma tried not to fixate on that terrified face. He was sure that he had screamed, a sound ripped out of his mouth against his will. If it had been anyone else, Kenma was sure that they would have been washing blood off the hood tonight, but Kuroo was the Drift King for a reason. He could float his way through a soda can obstacle course with ease, and while the maneuver out on the street had knocked him off course and stolen a few precious seconds, the college girl had lived.
“We’ll get Oikawa next week,” Kuroo offered quietly, his hands rubbing firmly against Kenma’s tense neck muscles. “Coming in second overall isn’t too bad, kid.”
“It’s not that,” Kenma mumbled again.
Fingers tucked under his chin and forced his head up, that sharp mouth looking soft and affectionate. “Do you want to come in bed with me?”
He nodded immediately before freezing and shaking his head. “Uh, no, I mean-”
Kuroo chuckled and pinched Kenma’s cheek mischievously. “Just wait here a sec. If you run away I will hunt you down.”
Watching wide-eyed, he witnessed as Kuroo hunted through discarded clothes for a t-shirt and boxers before crawling in the bed and harassing Tsukishima until the younger man sleepily maneuvered himself into the clothes. Tetsuro pressed loving kisses against the inside of those lanky knees, along the flat expanse of stomach and even against the grumpy face.
“You’re so fucking annoying,” Tsukishima groaned afterwards, rolling closer to the edge of the bed.
“And you love me just like this,” Kuroo teased before waving Kenma over. “Come on, princess.”
“Uh…”
“Get the fuck over here, Kozume, or I will kill you both,” Tsukishima growled before pulling the pillow over his face.
Kuroo offered an “I-told-you-so” expression and waved him over again. Kenma took a deep breath and stepped forward. It wasn’t far to the bed and soon he was pulled down by familiar arms. He shrugged off the hold once they were actually under the covers, and Kuroo chuckled in amusement.
“You good if I spoon the big baby?” he whispered. “I could still give you a blowie first if you need the relief.”
The fact that Kuroo was still saying such things in the near vicinity of his boyfriend was both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Won’t he-”
“No, I won’t dump him for giving you a fucking blow job,” Tsukishima growled from under the pillow, “but I will dump him if you two don’t shut the hell up and go to sleep!”
“I keep telling you that it’s okay,” Kuroo snickered before offering his boyfriend a fond pinch to the bony ribs. He was donkey kicked in retaliation and Kenma felt himself relax a little.
“Um, no, I’m really fine. You can spoon him. I just...just want to be close.”
“Okay, cool.”
Tetsuro stretched noisily for a moment before rolling to his side and spooning up against the taller boy. The Queen-sized bed was not really big enough for three young men to settle in comfortably, but Kuroo never minded too-much physical contact and quickly fell asleep sandwiched between the blonds. Kenma laid on his side and studied Kuroo’s naked back in the dark for several long moments until the breathing from the other two settled into the slow, deep rhythm of sleep.
After twelve years of friendship, Kenma decided that it was unlikely that he would figure Kuroo all out. He would probably never truly understand a lot of things, but all the same, none of that had ever broken apart the relationship between them. And if their differences hadn’t torn them apart by now, maybe it was reasonable to assume that nothing else would.
Kuroo made a promise to him years ago, when he had been in tears and admitting things he had never told anyone else; he had promised to always be there, for the rest of their lives. And Kuroo wasn’t a liar.
He had never once put up with a partner that belittled Kenma or tried to change how things were between the two of them. He hadn’t cared that what they had was different from a normal friendship or that some people thought they were co-dependent. He never tried to push Kenma to do more than he was comfortable with, but he also didn’t let Kenma slink off into the shadows of no human interaction.
They pushed each other and loved each other in their own way. Grinning softly to himself, Kenma reached out a pale hand and settled it against the warm small of Tetsuro’s back.
He didn’t have it all figured out, but sometimes it was okay to still move forward.