Work Text:
Kissing, Kenma thinks, is a lot like drinking coffee. It's warm and bitter with a slight hint of sweet (exactly two sugars worth per cup). Of course, that could just be because he only ever kisses Akaashi, and just about the only time he could ever be found without a cup of the stuff in hand was when he was playing volleyball.
——
"This is disgusting," Akaashi says, grimacing after taking a long drink for the large paper cup in his hand. "This is the worst thing I've ever had."
He chugs the rest of the cup before signaling to their waitress that he'd like another. "How's the pie?"
Kenma hums around a mouthful of flaky apple, cinnamon, and nutmeg.
Akaashi smiles, the same small private smile he saves only for Kenma. "Good."
Beneath the table their feet are touching, a small point of contact grounding Kenma in the too-bright fluorescence of the all-night diner. Their favorite places tend to be small, quiet, and open late, and this place checks all their boxes. The good pie and steady supply of coffee are just a bonus.
They sit in silence; Kenma making slow progress through his pie, Akaashi having long since devoured the ice cream it been served with. Kenma thinks about the dramatic romances in some of his games, of the quiet way Akaashi had asked him to move in six months ago, and knows without a doubt which one he'd rather have.
——
Kenma's first class doesn't start until after ten, but his alarm goes off at 6:30. He drags himself out of bed and shuffles to the kitchen, pulling one of the blankets along with him.
After starting a pot of coffee, he curls up on the couch and goes back to sleep.
He wakes up to a kiss being pressed to his temple and the sound of Akaashi's voice saying, "Thanks for the coffee."
A few moments later he hears the door click shut.
——
The on campus coffee shop is crowded, always crowded, despite the fact that Akaashi says their coffee is no good.
Kenma's become a regular there, despite the fact he doesn't care for coffee at all.
"You know, you drink too much coffee," the barista says as she fills up his usual—a large cup of whatever they have that isn't decaf with room for sugar.
Usually Kenma's too drained from class to bother interacting with anyone, but he's in a good mood today, so her words coax out a response.
"It's not for me," he says, taking the cup from her when she offers it. He stares down at its lid, suddenly feeling bold. "It's for my—my boyfriend." He stutters over the unfamiliar word. He isn't used to having to define what he and Akaashi have, because the people he usually interacts with already know what they are.
The person behind him clears their throat loudly at him holding up the line, and Kenma slips away to get sugar before the barista has a chance to respond.
He pulls out exactly two packets of sugar and empties them into the cup one at a time before stirring with a thin plastic stirrer and popping the lid back on.
Every day they're both on campus, Kenma meets Akaashi after class, always with a cup of coffee. He waits outside Akaashi's building, coffee in one hand and phone in the other, eyes glued to his phone screen as he thumbs his way through the levels of whatever game he happens to open up that day.
"Hey," Akaashi always says, greeting him before Kenma's even realized he's standing in front of him.
"Hey," Kenma says today, his talkative mood from the coffee house carrying over.
Akaashi's smiling at him, a small upward quirk of his lips that Kenma knows most people miss, but he never does. His hair is wilder than usual; he must have skipped out on combing it before leaving the apartment this morning. He has one hand on the strap of his backpack on his shoulder, the other wrapped firmly around a cup of coffee that he's in the process of downing.
He tosses it into the nearby trash can, cup making a delicate arc through the air, before hitting the rim and sinking in.
Akaashi takes the fresh cup from Kenma, takes a long drink from it, before turning to Kenma and smiling more widely at him.
"Hi," he says. "Thanks."
A small warm tendril of something curls deep in Kenma's stomach, and he smiles back.
"Hey," he repeats. "Home?"
"Home," Akaashi agrees.
——
They're in Akaashi and his bedroom and Kenma is laying on Kuroo, or maybe Kuroo is laying on him. He's not quite sure. He is sure that Kuroo's texting Bokuto right now, just like he's sure that he's playing a video game.
He thinks his wireless controller's batteries might be dying, because it only seems to be registering four out of five button pushes, but the batteries are over there so he figures he'll just keep pressing and hope that the batteries last through to the next save point.
He hears the door click open and Akaashi call out a greeting.
It takes three pushes for the start button to register that Kenma wants to pause the game. He hears the start of their well-loved coffee maker before Akaashi enters the room.
He regards the Kenma-Kuroo human pretzel that's on the bed with amusement.
Kenma feels Kuroo shift and thinks he might be twisting to look at Akaashi.
"Bokuto says hi," Kuroo says as way of greeting.
"Isn't Bokuto-san supposed to be in class now? Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?"
"Yeah, that's why he's texting me. So I know what I'm missing."
Akaashi frowns. "Everything okay?" he asks, looking at Kenma.
"Yeah," Kenma assures him, and Akaashi visibly relaxes. "I just need more batteries." He shakes the controller in his hand. "I think these are dying."
"Kuroo-san, you couldn't get batteries for him?"
"Akaashi, I am shocked and appalled. I'm in the middle of class. You would really want me to abandon my studies all for the sake of a few batteries?"
"I didn't tell him I needed more."
Akaashi hums his understanding as he sorts through a drawer for what Kenma needs.
As he hands the batteries over, Kenma reaches out and tugs him down for a kiss.
"Get a room."
"Says the guy who had his hands down Bokuto-san's pants last night," Akaashi says, tangling a hand in Kenma's hair while looking up to level a flat look at Kuroo. "And we have a room. This room. You just happen to be in it."
"That was just bros being bros," Kuroo insists, sounding distracted and Kenma assumes he's gone back to texting Bokuto.
"Well your bromance needs a room."
"Hey hey hey—no bromo, full romo, thank you very much."
"Do you even understand what he just said?" Akaashi asks Kenma.
"It's just a matter of time before they have a house with a white picket fence, two-point-five kids, and a dog," Kenma translates.
"Excuse you, but we are going to have a cat," Kuroo argues. "No dogs. And I'd rather not have half a kid. Two or three. Anything in between would just be weird."
"Well I'll be looking forward to the invite," Akaashi says.
"We're gonna get married skydiving."
"Have fun with that." Akaashi kisses Kenma again. "Be right back. Coffee's ready."
"You have a problem!" Kuroo yells after him, only half-joking.
——
They sit together late at night, Akaashi with a mug of freshly brewed coffee, Kenma curled against his side, console in hand. Sometimes they talk, but more often than not they sit in comfortable silence.
Too often they lose track of time, and one of them will realize with a start that the sun is peeking through their curtains and they've stayed up all night. Sometimes, one of them will yawn and stretch before excusing themselves to bed. Other times, on their favorite nights, Kenma will shut off his game as Akaashi slips his bookmark between the pages of his book before downing the last of his cup, and they'll make their way to their bedroom together.