Archive of Our Own ^beta

“Holy shit, you don’t mean?” Kuroo said, letting the end of his question trail off.

He was on a really high, really thin, tightrope over a raging ocean of emotions. It was taking everything in him to balance and avoid going for a hellish swim.

“It’s weird,” Kenma said quietly, both the laughter and the tears gone, “I can only see green, I think.”

Kuroo watched him look around the room and walk towards the front room window, sweeping his gaze to every corner of the house.

“That happens,” Kuroo said, “If you’re sick or on certain medications, it can happen a few colors at a time. I don’t think you need to worry, though. I read that substantial grief can cause it too.”

“Sometimes I forget you’re a walking encyclopedia about this stuff,” Kenma said with a small laugh.

Kenma slowly meandered about the house looking at green things. Kuroo found it pretty adorable if he was being honest. He watched as Kenma picked up his green switch controller and attached it to his switch, discarding the red (or grey for Kenma) joycon on the couch.

“Wait,” Kenma said, suddenly stopping his excited glances, “How often does it happen when someone sees colors again?”

“Well,” Kuroo said, “It’s been awhile since I actively kept up with the research, but, as of a few years ago, there were three total recorded cases. Only one of them consented to research. I’m not sure if there’s been any more in the years since, though.”

“You mean like three total ever?” Kenma asked, a look of concern quickly taking over his face.

“Three confirmed, yeah,” he said, not knowing what tone to use with his response. He was having trouble not only gauging how Kenma was feeling about the whole thing, but also how he, himself, was feeling.

“And only one person participated in research?” Kenma clarified.

Kuroo nodded, “To the best of my current knowledge, yes.”

Kenma looked down at his feet, “What does it mean?”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” he said thoughtfully, “Nobody does. The field is pretty split on the matter and there isn’t much data to look at.”

“Can you show me how to find the articles?” Kenma asked quietly, “I don’t know what to think.”

“Of course, we can also check if there’s been any other reported cases. I have plenty of time left on my lunch break, so I’ll show you how to do it and then you can take some time to read through it if you want,” he suggested.

Kenma nodded, “I’ll go get my laptop.”

Kuroo was still balancing on that tightrope, the only thing stopping him from a death defying plunge was his years of steadfast training. He’d learned over the last few years that the best way to not feel pain was not to feel anything else either. If you’re not excited about things, you won’t be crushed when they don’t happen. If you don’t have high hopes for yourself, you won’t be disappointed when you don’t succeed, and if you don’t acknowledge your never ending unrequited love for your soulmate, you don’t have to acknowledge the pain that they cause by not loving you back. That’s why he stood, balancing, not letting the billowing gusts of wind move anything more than his hair.

“I don’t have my neuroscience and psychology search engine subscription anymore,” Kuroo said as Kenma came back downstairs, laptop in his hands, “But there are plenty of unspecialized databases that should do the trick.”

Kenma wordlessly handed him the open laptop. Kuroo pulled up one of those free databases.

“It takes some skill learning how to do a really advanced search. There’s a bunch of things like truncation, controlled vocabulary, and operators, but honestly I kinda doubt that you care, so I’ll run one for you and if you feel like it didn’t work or you want to look for something more specific, I’ll show you.”

Kenma watched as he pulled up different tabs of vocabulary and entered terms into boxes while selecting different checkboxes and things labeled advanced operators. Learning how to do a proper literature search was something Kuroo did to prepare himself for his neuroscience career. The path his life took ended up making the skill sit unused in his day to day life.

“If it doesn’t come up with the actual article attached, you can just copy the title into a regular search engine. Usually there’s at least one site that has it for free,” Kuroo explained, “But for your purposes you may only need the abstract anyway.”

Kenma nodded, but didn’t move to take the laptop back.

“Let me know if you need me to explain anything or adjust the search,” he said, handing the laptop back to Kenma.

Kenma nodded a quick thanks but didn’t get up or bother to even look at the screen.

“Can I annoy you for a minute?” Kuroo asked, “I’m really curious about something.”

“Uh,” Kenma said hesitantly, “I guess so?”

“What color is this?” Kuroo asked, pulling up a picture on his phone.

“Green?” Kenma answered with confusion.

“I really want to figure out what your brain declares as not green enough to see,” he said, unable to control the excitement in his voice.

They sat for a few moments, Kuroo pulling up pictures and Kenma declaring whether they were green, grey, or greyish green.

“You’re like a kid during Christmas,” Kenma said with a small laugh, “You can hardly contain yourself.”

“Shut up, Kenma. It’s interesting,” he said, pointing to the next color he pulled up.

“That one is the same color as your glasses, which I can’t believe you wear. I feel like we need to go back to how ridiculous your glasses are,” Kenma said.

“I don’t wear them during meetings. My regular ones are still trapped in my office. I’m hoping they let us back in the building soon, so I can grab them. Also, they’re not ridiculous, they’re cool,” Kuroo argued.

“They are not. They are ridiculous,” Kenma said, the ghost of a smile in his words.

“They’re definitely cool. You just are too scared to admit it,” Kuroo countered.

“Absolutely not,” Kenma said, getting off the couch and taking the laptop with him.

“Admit they’re cool, you coward,” Kuroo called after Kenma as he disappeared up the stairs.

“Not a chance in hell,” Kenma’s voice called back.

Kuroo methodically pulled out ingredients from the pantry. He selected the most complicated recipe he could think of without having to go to the store. He carefully placed all of the ingredients on the counter. He made sure to check that they all had enough to fulfill the requirements of the recipe. He assiduously started preparing the ingredients. He chopped up vegetables, doing his best to keep them an even thickness and shape. If he put all of his effort into this complicated meal, he wouldn’t have enough brainpower to get excited. He wouldn’t have enough brain power to get hurt again. He was going to make the most accurately cut vegetables humanity had ever seen.

“So,” a voice from behind Kuroo said.

The unexpected sound spooked him quite a bit and he just narrowly missed slicing off his finger.

“Shit,” he said, turning around, “You’re so quiet.”

“What do you know that I don’t?” Kenma asked him.

He looked over at Kenma who was practically withdrawn into his oversized sweatshirt. The hood hung over his forehead and his hands were retracted into their respective sleeves.

“I know a ton of things you don’t,” Kuroo said with a laugh as he turned back to his vegetable prep, “It’s why I occasionally beat you at trivia.”

“You know what I mean,” Kenma said pointedly.

“I don’t. You’ll have to tell me,” Kuroo responded carefully, making intense eye contact with his carrots, chopping them with a deft flick of his wrist.

He focused on balancing. Don’t fall into the ravine. It’s a long way down.

“The way you’re brutalizing those carrots begs to differ, so what is it you know that I don’t, because everything I’ve read over the last few hours points towards the conclusion that you’re my soulmate, so what is with the excessive brooding? I’d like to know what chapter I’m missing here,” Kenma said, his voice hardly staying calm.

“You’ve read the research more recently than I have,” he said, swiping the poor carrots into a bowl.

“Why aren’t you excited?” Kenma said, finally asking what he meant to say.

Kuroo took a deep breath and turned around to face Kenma again.

“I’ve learned not to get excited about things, because they tend to just end up hurting me in the long run,” he said honestly, “I’m happy for you that you can see at least some color again, though. I can’t imagine just not being able to see it again one day.”

“Really?” Kenma asked, his voice raising.

“Yes, really,” Kuroo responded, mimicking his tone.

“You’re really just going to stand there and act like you’re just happy for me because I can see the color green? That’s insane,” Kenma accused.

“I am just happy for you. That's all I’ve ever been. You know that?” Kuroo said, the acid in his voice beginning to come through.

The wind was picking up. It whipped at him fast enough to batter the skin on his face. His core contracted, doing its best to keep him upright, but it wasn’t easy. If he didn’t have years of practice, he’d already be on his way down.

“I mean shit, Kuro, you can’t expect me to have made a decision about anything in the last five hours, so maybe you could at least pretend to be just a bit excited about this? I get that I’ve hurt you. I get how bad I’ve hurt you, but come on,” he said, exasperated, “Don’t you think this is maybe worth caring about?”

The tightrope snapped.

“Excited for what, Kenma? Care about what? You don’t even know if this is permanent. Nobody does. You can’t say for sure that I’m your soulmate. Your real, honest to god, soulmate died. You’d deal with so much conflicting guilt just being with me,” Kuroo spit, citing the articles he knew Kenma had just been reading, “It could tear you apart. Yeah I’d love for you to be with me and then be thinking about your dead husband the entire time, wishing I was him. To be miserable because you’re in my arms and not his. And what about your fans? You really want the entire world to drag your name through the mud? To drag his name through the mud? Accuse you of cheating on your soulmate? Accuse you of never loving him? It really doesn’t look good to hook up with your best man. To hook up with the person who spoke at your husband's funeral. You know that? Kenma, who cares so much about what everyone thinks of him, is just going to give the whole world a field day to destroy him? Sure. Sure you are. So yeah, I’m not going to be excited, because you’re not going to choose the agony of being with me. I’m not going to stand here and be excited about something that’ll never happen. I haven’t been this close to thinking that you’d love me back since I was still in high school and I don’t want to believe that I’ll finally be yours just for it not to happen. I’m just trying to save myself the heartbreak. It’s really bad having your soulmate not have you as a soulmate, but I can’t really imagine too much worse than having your soulmate actually having you as a soulmate and then still not loving you. So, no. I’m not excited. I’m fucking miserable.”

He finished his rant out of breath. He hadn’t yelled like that since he was in the hospital or maybe not even then, his memory of that first day at the hospital was spotty at best due to the pain medication.

Kenma’s voice came quietly and steadily in a large contrast to Kuroo’s angry tirade, “Every single thing you mentioned in there as a reason for us not to get together is something that is on me: My guilt, My fans, My grief, My reputation, so stop trying to make this decision for me. It’s not yours to make.”

“I’m not making the decision for you! I’m simply laying out the truth of the matter. It’s your decision to make, but it’s hardly even a choice in the first place. I’m not going to bet on a miracle again and lose. I bet that you’d just be colorblind and that I’d be your soulmate against the odds. I bet that I’d have a long fulfilling career in neuroscience. I bet that I’d be able to actually play volleyball again. I bet on all of these miracles and none of them have worked out. Forgive me if for once I choose the safe option,” Kuroo shouted.

“I’m sorry for all of the things you’ve been through that have convinced you that your love isn’t something worth fighting for. You think so little of me, scratch that, you think so little of yourself that being with you is only an option if it happens to be convenient,” Kenma said calmly, “Have you even considered the fact that I was willing to be with you without a second thought when we were still in high school? That was when I knew for a fact you weren’t my soulmate.”

“Really?” he sneered, “You’re telling me nothing has changed at all since high school?”

“Take a walk,” Kenma said kindly, but firmly.

“I’m not going to go take a walk,” he said, irritated at the request.

“You can either go blow off steam and then come talk to me, or you can choose to not talk to me at all. It’s up to you, but I’m not having this conversation when you’re so wound up that your first instinct is to get defensive without even listening to what I’m saying, and Kuro,” Kenma continued, “It’s not the yelling that’s bothering me. I get that you need to yell, but this is important, and we both have important things to say, so I at least need you to be able to listen to and think about the things I’m saying.”

His first instinct was to yell that he didn’t need to take a walk, but then he slowed down just a second to realize that the instinctual reaction he just had was proving Kenma’s point. He needed to go at this with a clear mind. Using his words to maim instead of dissect wasn’t going to get him anywhere. It might feel good to lash out, but it wouldn’t benefit him in the long run.

“Okay,” he finally said.

“Show me what you need me to do with the rest of the ingredients. I’ll work on this until you’re back,” Kenma offered.

Kuroo showed him what to do, demonstrating how to use the herb stemmer, the best way to juice and zest the lemons, and how he wanted the rest of the vegetables chopped and seasoned. Something about the intimacy and the pure domesticity of the action was too much for him to handle in his raw state. He backed away from the counter without finishing his instructions.

Even though he had already cooled down quite a bit, he figured a quick walk couldn’t hurt, so he threw on a sweatshirt and went outside. It was the perfect weather, just a pinch chilly, but not cold enough that he was uncomfortable. He took deep breaths as he walked, imagining his lungs filling with oxygen and spreading it through the rest of his body, but particularly his brain.

He figured it might be a good idea to figure out what he wanted to say when he returned, but instead he settled for thinking about nothing important. He looked at the flowers in the grass, the decorations on the houses, and the clouds in the sky, simply taking them all in. He would figure out what to say when he walked back through the doorway.

As he pulled the door open and slipped his shoes off. He mulled over a few options. He considered apologizing. He considered kissing Kenma. He considered asking some questions. He considered making a suggestion for what they should do. He considered just letting Kenma talk first.

He did none of those things.

When he got to the kitchen, the first thing he said was, “Kenma, you messed up the yams.”

“I know,” Kenma said gently smacking himself in the forehead, “I realized it after I did it. I can stop by the store to get more in a second.”

“Nah,” Kuroo said with a laugh, “It might mess up the texture but I think it’ll probably taste the same.”

“Thank god,” Kenma said as he zested a lemon, “I’m actually pretty decent in the kitchen, but I definitely airheaded this one.”

Kuroo watched Kenma’s even motions and saw the light glint off of his wedding band. He wasn’t quite sure how it made him feel. How long would he wear it? It occurred to him that Kenma surely didn’t know either. How could you just one day decide that it was the day to take it off?

“We don’t need to figure it all out today, you know,” Kuroo said, thoughtfully.

“What? When else- Sorry. I thought you were referring to the yams,” Kenma responded, putting the lemon down so he could cover his eyes.

“There’s really nothing going on upstairs today, huh?” Kuroo asked, amused.

“Apparently not,” he said with a laugh as he shook his head.

He walked downstairs to find Kenma on the couch, typing away on his laptop. He was in his pajamas, his long hair sloppily falling out of a hair tie. He had his glasses on, something Kuroo didn’t see often. He normally wore his contacts and only wore his glasses when something was wrong with them. Kuroo was delighted. Sleepy Kenma and glasses Kenma were rolled into one this fortunate morning.

He tried not to let his mind go where it was going. They’d been slowly heading towards a relationship. They spent more time doing things together. They hugged sometimes even when Kenma wasn’t crying. The other day Kenma leaned his head against Kuroo’s shoulder while they watched a movie. Kuroo knew they were in a delicate situation and he shouldn’t rush anything, but he wanted to kiss Kenma so badly. He was just sitting there all cute in his pajamas, his glasses drawing Kuroo’ eyes towards Kenma’s captivating gold ones. It seemed like it would be so pleasant to kiss Kenma, maybe like a cool beer on a hot day.

“Hey, so I actually-“ Kenma said startling Kuroo, “Wait, why are you looking at me like that?”

Kuroo tried his best not to blush as if it was something he could actually control.

“It doesn’t matter,” Kuroo said, trying to get his brain to behave, “What were you saying?”

“Yellow,” Kenma said.

“Yellow?” Kuroo asked.

“Yellow,” Kenma said with a nod.

“Oh, yellow,” Kuroo said, finally understanding, “Well that’s cool. When did it happen?”

“I was looking through a box of stuff from high school. Pictures and whatnot. All of a sudden I could see the yellow on one of the volleyballs you were holding,” Kenma said.

“That’s so cool, I guess they’re for sure coming back after all,” Kuroo said.

“I decided I wanted to participate in research since this seems to not be a fluke. It’ll be good for me to do, I think. It’d be helpful to give them more data, and I also think I’d like to have someone else going through this be able to find more articles about it than I did,” Kenma said.

“If it’s something you’re comfortable with, I think it’d be a great idea,” Kuroo admitted.

“I was looking for how to get involved with it, but on some of these websites, they have these forms saying I could lose my colors during the research. Do you know what that’s about?” Kenma asked.

“Oh, yeah sure,” Kuroo said sliding onto the couch next to him, “They don’t really know what’s going to happen because they’ve only ever studied one person so they have to let you know that there could be unforeseen consequences relevant to the research. It’s called informed consent. Basically that just means they need to cover all of the bases of what could possibly happen, but I’ve never heard of research affecting colors in any way. You can always contact the research team for more information. Honestly, you’d be like a celebrity and they’d do just about anything you’d ask.”

“I’m actually already a celebrity,” Kenma pointed out.

“Celebrity Squared,” Kuroo said with a philosophical tone for humorous effect.

He started reading the documents and disclaimers on Kenma’s screen to see if there was anything else he could say to help.

“Oh, what were you thinking about earlier?” Kenma asked.

Not paying attention, Kuroo responded, “I wanted to kiss you.”

“Wait, what?” Kenma asked.

Kuroo looked up and sheepishly said, “Oh. I totally just said that out loud. I was using my brain to look through the disclaimers.”

“Oh,” Kenma said, his tone unclear.

“Uh, well, uh can I?” Kuroo managed to get out. He quickly adjusted when he saw the look on Kenma’s face, “Sorry, you can say no. That was too fast.”

“It’s not really a no. It’s more like a not quite yet, if that makes sense,” Kenma said awkwardly.

“Yeah, totally,” Kuroo said casually.

He didn’t mean it. That absolutely didn’t make sense. It was a yes or no question. It was also kinda annoying. He really wanted to kiss Kenma and yeah, he asked for the purpose of allowing Kenma to be able to say no, but it didn’t really hurt less. Of course, he didn’t want to make Kenma uncomfortable, but he was also at the point where he felt like he’d been making Kenma comfortable at the extent of his own comfortability for years. Would it kill him to just let him do it?

He immediately decided to nip that line of thinking in the bud because it was an assholish thing to think. He shook his head as if his brain was an etch-a-sketch and he could just erase the thought. He mentally scolded himself for being a dick and got up to brew some coffee.

——————-

He checked the time on his phone, again. They were going to be late if they didn’t leave soon. He wasn’t sure what was taking Kenma so long. Going to see this movie was his idea after all. He made his way upstairs and seeing that the door to Kenma’s room was partially open, he walked in.

“Hey, we’re going to be late,” he said looking at Kenma who seemed to be staring at himself in the mirror while holding something.

“Sorry,” he said, setting what looked like a necklace down on the counter in front of the mirror, “I know this isn’t fair to you.”

“It’s just a movie,” Kuroo said, confused, “We can not go if you’ve decided you’d rather not see it.”

“I wasn’t talking about the movie,” he said, almost as if he was somewhere else, “I was just. I don’t know.”

“Just, what? Are you okay?” Kuroo asked, concerned.

“Yes. I’m fine,” he said, looking really tired, “I know this isn’t fair to you and I’m sorry, but I don’t know what to do with this.”

Kuroo’s eyes followed Kenma’s hands to the necklace where Kuroo now noticed his wedding band sat.

“Oh, that’s-“ he started.

“I’ve been thinking about it, like a lot. I’ve probably been thinking about it too much. Honestly? Humans are complicated and weird. Like this is a tiny piece of circular metal. That is literally it and yet, it means something. It means a lot of things. It means things to me and it means different things to other people. I should be able to just leave it here on the desk. It is just a piece of circular metal,” Kenma explained, “But it’s somehow also not just a piece of circular metal. It’s a symbol of a promise, right? A promise that was fulfilled and no longer applies. Till death do us part, right? Well it did, so the ring isn’t really about the promise anymore, or is it? Does it imply a loyalty of sorts? Does taking it off mean I’m pretending like it never happened? Does leaving it on it imply I haven’t moved on? And you’re sitting here like, good lord, we’re sort of together. I’m your soulmate, and yet you still wear your wedding ring. I just put it on this necklace as a compromise of sorts, but I can’t decide if that’s the right thing to do either. I mean obviously I shouldn’t be wearing it. I’ve been trying to just not wear it at all. To leave it on the desk. It doesn’t feel right. I was just-“

“Kenma,” Kuroo interrupted him, “Stop.”

“What?” Kenma asked.

“Does it bother you to not wear it? Does it make you feel guilty, or sad, or upset?” he asked in response.

“Well, yes, but-“ Kenma started.

“Then wear it,” Kuroo said with a shrug.

“That’s not fair to you. We’re getting together. You’re my soulmate,” he insisted.

“I’m not sure if this is going to make sense,” he mused, “But right now, it really doesn’t bother me. I mean, I didn’t hate him, like ever. Sure, I was jealous of him. After the initial pain wore off in the first few years, I was happy that you had him, because clearly he was good to you and made you happy. I mean, it’s undeniable that he was a big part of your happiness.”

“I'm not saying he wasn’t. I’m saying that I need to just figure it out. I don’t know why it’s so hard,” he said.

“You know,” Kuroo said, “The situation you’re in has happened to four people, like just four people. You don’t have to act like you know exactly how to handle it. You said it’s just a circular metal object, right?”

“Well, sort of. It technically is a circular metal object, but it also inherently means other things. I mean, you can’t deny that,” Kenma insisted.

“Of course it means things. To you it means all sorts of things. I think it even means things to you that you don’t quite understand. It can mean something different to someone else,” Kuroo reasoned.

“It’s not some never seen before object, though. It’s a wedding ring. We both know that,” Kenma argued.

“Here’s the thing about symbols, though. They only mean what you make them mean. For you it has a deep emotional meaning. For me, it’s a circular metal object that upsets you to not wear. So wear it. It’s that simple,” he said plainly.

“Kuro, that’s not, you know-“

“Maybe it’ll bother me eventually. Actually, I’m sure it will bother me eventually, but it doesn’t bother me right now. What we’re going through together is undeniably a weird, complicated mess. It’s obvious neither one of us knows how to handle it. I’d rather you not do something that bothers you just because you feel like you have to do it to chisel away part of the mess. We can start somewhere else and come back to it. There’s no rush,” Kuroo said.

“Why are you saying this,” Kenma asked.

“What do you mean why am I saying this?” Kuroo responded, “I’m saying it because I mean it.”

“You’ll tell me when you start to change your mind, right? I need to know that you’ll tell me when it starts to bother you if I haven’t taken it off by then,” he responded, “I don’t want to keep hurting you.”

“I will,” he assured him.

“Are you sure?” Kenma asked.

“I mean it. I’ll let you know, alright?” Kuroo responded.

Kenma gave a sad nod and put the necklace around his neck, tucking it into his shirt.

“I’m sorry,” Kenma said, “Can I have a hug?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You can always have a hug.”

Kuroo was feeling a lot of weird feelings all at once, which admittedly, wasn’t all that uncommon for him. He sat in a sea of excited people all watching the competition on the screen, cheering for their favorite competitor. Twenty four were competing and the top three qualified for the biggest tournament in Tokyo. It was single elimination until they reached the top six in which they played round Robin.

He watched nervously as Kenma’s game was shown on the screen. He’d gotten easily through the first round. He was doing well against the current opponent, but Kuroo was still nervous for him.

Nervous was the main feeling he felt. That nervousness also came with pride. He was proud of Kenma. Happy for him. The pride came with excitement. Placing in the top three would mean a lot to Kenma. It wasn’t going to be easy, but Kuroo was sure he could do it. That nervousness, pride, and excitement also came with a different nagging feeling.

He couldn’t quite name what it was, but he knew why it was there. Kenma had automatically been entered into an international tournament a few years ago because he won a fan vote. He ended up placing almost last, but that wasn’t the thing nagging at Kuroo. The thing bothering him was that Shouyou should be there with him. They agreed to go to Kenma’s first tournament together, and at that first tournament, they agreed they’d go to the rest together, too. Kuroo had figured they would end up going to many over the years, but it ended up being just that one.

So here he sat, feeling a lot of feelings, watching Kenma defeat his second opponent. He was in the final six. All he had to do was place in the top three to qualify for the next tournament. Kuroo really wanted him to be able to do it. Kenma lamented the fact that the last tournament he played, he was only able to play in because he was famous, not because he was good. Kuroo was hoping he’d qualify so he would finally feel like he was good enough.

“Jesus Christ,” a fan in front of him exclaimed to the person standing next to him, “Kodzu just took down the number one seed. I didn’t think he had it in him.”

“Yeah it’s round robin, though, so that might not mean anything,” the other person responded.

“You’re right, but man I didn’t think anyone was going to be able to do it.”

Kuroo had in fact noticed the person Kenma just beat was really good, but he didn’t really know the ins and outs of this game and the community in it. He did, however, remind himself that he beat Kenma at this game once, which meant that he basically beat the number one seed at this tournament.

He watched as the games went on, mostly simultaneously. Sometimes one game wouldn’t be able to start until the one before it ended, but there were usually two if not three games going on at once. A big scoreboard kept the running tally. He flicked his eyes nervously between the games and the scoreboard. Kenma won some and lost some.

The final scores had the number one seed winning every game but the one against Kenma. After that, Kenma was in a three way tie for second place. All of them had won three games and lost two. The fifth place player won two and the sixth place player was completely shut out.

They announced that awards would start after a half hour break. Kuroo made his way through the crowd to where Kenma told him to go after the matches had finished. It was down a small corridor under the small stadium. He showed his guest badge to the security member who let him go past, into where there were small rooms for each of the competitors. He looked for the one with Kenma’s name, or more accurately gamertag, on it and opened it.

Kenma was angry. It was the first thing Kuroo noticed when he walked in. His hair that had been sitting in a straight sheet down his back was thrown into a tight ponytail. He was sitting on a small desk and had his arms crossed and his nose scrunched.

“I’m so proud of you,” Kuroo said, not understanding the anger.

“I’m not. I wanted to play in the tournament. It’s so hard to get all of this way to just miss it by that close,” Kenma said, shaking his head.

“What do you mean? You tied for second place,” Kuroo said.

“I lose the tie breaker,” Kenma explained, “Usually in round robin, if there’s a tiebreaker, you then only take the players that tied and see how they did against each other. My three wins were against the winner and the fifth and sixth place players. Both of my losses were to the players I’m tied with.”

“That’s insane. You beat the winner. That’s a stupid tie breaker. I’m sorry,” Kuroo said.

Kenma tipped his head back against the wall and squeezed his eyes shut. Kuroo watched as a tear leaked out, and rolled down the side of his face, to disappear under the collar of his Bouncing Ball jersey. He could also see part of the silver chain around Kenma’s neck. Kuroo knew that there was a wedding band on it even though it was covered by his shirt.

Kuroo sat on the desk next to him, making sure not to break it with his weight. It was pretty wimpy looking.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Kenma said with his eyes still squeezed shut, “Fourth place is really good. You should be proud of yourself. Look on the bright side, you did better than twenty other people and you’re getting a prize. Fourth place isn’t bad for your first real tournament. You shouldn’t wallow.”

“You’re wrong,” he said.

Kenma opened his eyes and looked at him, confused.

“I don’t think that,” Kuroo continued, “It fucking sucks. It totally sucks. I mean yeah, you should be proud, but also what a bitch, you know? You did so well. You won the exact same amount of games as the other ones who qualified but you don’t get to go. You literally beat the best person in the entire tournament and you didn’t qualify. It’s absolutely bullshit and I think you have the right to complain.”

“Thanks,” he said, bending forwards to put his elbows on his knees, “That honestly makes me feel a lot better. You know, it’d be super embarrassing if they held a fan vote and I got voted in again.”

Kuroo slipped his arm around Kenma’s shoulders, and Kenma ever so slightly leaned into him.

“I actually think that’s not embarrassing. I think that’d be justice, but I see what you’re thinking,” Kuroo countered.

A knock startled both of them. A voice on the other side of the door let them know that the award ceremony was about to start and Kenma needed to make his way to the stage.

“Do I look like I’ve been crying?” Kenma asked, “I don’t want to go viral for crying at a video game tournament.”

Kuroo removed his arm and took a good look at him, “No, but you might want to put your hair back. It’s a little messy.”

Kenma nodded and wrestled the hair tie out of it, shaking it out.

“Meet me here after the ceremony,” Kenma said as he hopped off the table.

Kuroo decided he’d stand as close to the corridor as he could while still seeing the awards. Even though the small stadium wasn’t completely packed to the gills, it was pretty full and navigating through it when everyone scrambled for the exits would be hard, even for someone as lanky as him.

He waited and waited for the awards ceremony to start, but something was clearly delaying it. He nervously unlocked his phone to scroll through social media, and then closed the apps, and locked the phone, just to unlock it again and do the whole thing over.

Finally it began. He watched as they congratulated everyone who lost in the first round at once. They then announced the second round losers one by one. Finally, there were only the final six on the stage. They announced the sixth place player, the one who was shut out, and handed him his prize of some sort of computer equipment. Kuroo wasn’t too sure how any of that computer building stuff worked, but he did enjoy the fact that Kenma’s setup had rainbow lights. Kenma could only see the green and yellow ones at the moment, but Kuroo liked it.

They announced the name of the fifth place player and handed him some computer stuff as his prize, too. Kuroo made a mental note to ask Kenma about it later. He enjoyed listening to Kenma talk about computer stuff, but he didn’t really understand it anyway.

“And now, let’s give a round of applause for our Tokyo qualifiers,” the announcer boomed over the speaker system.

Kuroo was confused as they announced the name of the woman who was tied with Kenma. Did they forget to announce fourth place? He could see that he wasn’t the only one confused as a slow murmur made its way through the stadium. He looked for Kenma in the back of the video feed on the Jumbotron. He looked confused too. Kuroo felt bad for him, how embarrassing for them to forget that you were there.

“Also tied for second place, Kozume Kenma!”

The murmurs in the stadium evolved into yelling. Kuroo kept his eyes trained on a still confused Kenma. Had someone been disqualified? Was this a mistake? They handed Kenma the second place cash prize, something that he said he was going to donate if he won. He absolutely did not need the money. He had more than enough to go around.

They announced the other person Kenma was tied with and then the person who won the entire tournament. By the time the name of the tournament champion was being announced, Kuroo made his way back to the corridor. He didn’t stay to see the rest.

Security let him through and he waited for Kenma to return. He pulled Twitter open to see the confusion starting to trend. Tweet after tweet questioning why the tie wasn’t broken. The meaner ones said it was so they could have a big name celebrity at the tournament. Kuroo decided it would be better not to scroll through any more tweets. He had no idea how Kenma did it. He’d seen some of Kenma’s hate tweets. When the world found out he had a husband, the internet was not particularly kind.

Finally, the door opened and he saw Kenma walk in, eyes wide, smile wide too.

“The reason the awards were delayed was because they needed to call the new tournament runners about the tie. Apparently the new tournament runners hadn’t officially set the tiebreaker rules for qualifiers and they said they’d expand the bracket to fit this tie and any tie after it,” Kenma excitedly explained.

“That’s amazing,” Kuroo said, “I’m so proud of you.”

Kenma rushed at him for a hug. Kuroo wrapped his arms around him and they laughed in excitement as they hugged.

“Oh man,” Kuroo said, pulling back, “You deserve this. I’m so happy for you.”

He expected Kenma to say something, but instead what he got was Kenma grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pulling him down into a kiss. It took a second for his brain to register what was happening. When he was finally able to catch up, he wound one of his hands into Kenma’s hair. He found that kissing Kenma wasn’t quite like a beer on a hot day, it was a lot more awkward.

Kenma pulled back and looked up at him, “Sorry, I should have asked first.”

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about it. It’s totally fine,” he said with a grin.

“Are you sure? You seemed pretty hesitant,” Kenma pointed out.

Kuroo felt himself blush and he cursed himself for it. He averted his gaze as he felt his cheeks and the tips of his ears heat up.

“Oh,” Kenma said, his eyes widening in realization, “Have you not?”

Kuroo shook his head to indicate that he hadn’t. He looked at the floor in embarrassment. He was way too old to have not had a first kiss.

“Hey, no. Sorry. Don’t be embarrassed,” Kenma said, “It can be a bit weird at first. That’s my bad for catching you off guard. Want to give it another go?”

Kuroo nodded and looked back at Kenma, who went slower this time. It still was a little awkward at first trying to figure out what exactly he was supposed to be doing and with what timing, but eventually he was able to find a good rhythm. His first guess was right after all. Kissing Kenma was really pleasant. He felt like he could do it all day. It was like breathing in fresh spring air.

He felt a thrill shoot through his stomach as Kenma ran his tongue quickly between his lips from one side to the other. He involuntarily let out a small whimper as he opened his mouth obediently. This was different. Instead of the spring air, it was more like the crackle of a bonfire and he wanted more. He got it.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and a voice telling them that they had to leave.

“Ah shit,’ Kenma said, startled, as he pulled back.

Kuroo laughed as he looked at Kenma. He could still feel the ghost of Kenma’s lips on his own. He resisted the urge to touch them with his fingers.

“Your shirt is blue!” Kenma said with a laugh.

“Yeah,” he said with a huge grin, “It is.”

He was attempting to be quiet, but he was just buzzed enough that this became a difficult task. He slowly opened the door, trying to avoid the awful scraping noise it makes when it gets opened too quickly. He soundlessly shut it behind him and started kicking off his shoes, but he was having a bit of a hard time getting them off without losing his balance. He cursed being so far away from his feet. Short people probably had an easier time taking their shoes off.

He began slowly making his way into the house before realizing that he could hear the TV in the front room making noise. That was odd. Kenma should have been sleeping. He had work in the morning and it was really late. He figured Kenma would have been long asleep by the time he got home.

“Kenma?” he called.

Not hearing a response, he walked over to the couch to see Kenma curled up on the couch, his head against the armrest. His laptop was on the ground in front of him and some video game was open. Kenma tended to only play on his fancy desktop, but it looked like he was in the middle of a pirate game of some sort. Kuroo stopped for a minute to admire the game. It was a view from a ship on an ocean. The sunset reflected off the water and the boat seemed to move with the crashing waves. It was actually really peaceful.

“Sweets,” he said, gently touching his shoulder, “Let’s get you to bed.”

He watched as a tired Kenma yawned while stretching himself out. He slowly sat up and looked up at Kuroo through half lidded eyes.

“Why are you down here?” Kuroo asked, moving a strand of hair out of Kenma’s face.

“I wanted to make sure you got back safe,” Kenma responded.

“I didn’t have that much to drink. I’m all good,” he said, offering a hand to help Kenma off the couch, “I think it’s bedtime for both of us though.”

Taking Kuroo’s hand, Kenma got off the couch, but didn’t start walking. Instead, he wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s neck.

“Did you have fun?” he asked as he placed a sleepy kiss on Kuroo’s neck.

“Mhm,” Kuroo responded, wrapping his arms around his half asleep soulmate.

He felt Kenma tense up and wrestle himself out of Kuroo’s embrace.

“Why do you smell like cigarettes?” he asked, upset, suddenly wide awake, “You weren’t smoking, were you?”

“God, no,” Kuroo responded, “The people who drove me home were chain smoking in the car, though.”

Kenma nodded. He shut down his laptop and turned the TV off before making his way towards the stairs.

“Why? Is the smell bothering you? I can put my clothes straight into the laundry if you want,” Kuroo offered.

“Oh, no. You’re fine,” he said, shuffling up the stairs, grabbing at the handrail so he wouldn’t fall due to the sheer darkness of the house.

“Are you sure?” Kuroo asked, “You don’t seem fine.”

Kenma turned around and looked at him. He was just about at Kuroo’s height due to his position on the stairs. His eyes seemed to glint and Kuroo tried to decide if it was a trick of the low lighting or if he was about to cry.

“Oh, I’m-“ Kenma choked out before leaning into the wall next to him.

He brought a hand up to cover his face.

“Hey,” Kuroo said quietly as he walked up to the stair below the one Kenma was on. He wrapped his arms around Kenma, one of them slowly smoothing his hair out. He slowly rocked side to side as he squeezed his arms around him, “What’s wrong?”

It took Kenma a minute before he was able to answer, but when he did, he answered in a low, but steady tone into Kuroo’s chest, “Sorry. I thought you were smoking. You need to take care of yourself. I can’t go through this again.”

“I’m not going anywhere, anytime soon,” Kuroo told him.

“Don’t say that,” came Kenma’s muffled response.

“Why not? I mean it,” he insisted.

“Because you can’t know for sure, so don’t say it,” Kenma said, a sob racking his body.

Kuroo wasn’t sure what to say. Kenma was right. There was no way that he could possibly know. It also occurred to him that the other option was him outliving Kenma. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He couldn’t even imagine the horror of losing his soulmate. Oh, but Kenma could. He squeezed Kenma even tighter.

“You’re right, but I promise that I’ll take care of myself. I can’t control everything, but I’ll give it my best, okay?” Kuroo said.

Kenma nodded against him and even though they both really needed to go to bed, they stood like that for a long time, Kenma crying into Kuroo’s chest, and Kuroo squeezing as hard as he could. Kuroo made a mental note to go back to going to the gym four times a week. Lately he’d only been going three.

Kuroo opening the box by mistake was finally what had gotten him the answer to the question that had been weighing on his mind. He didn’t feel comfortable asking, but he was having trouble figuring it out and was now content to have closure.

The first time he noticed it was about a week ago. He had been sitting in the front room when Kenma had gone upstairs to shower. He was working assiduously on a project for work using his laptop when the muffled music from the bathroom got louder. Kuroo looked up to see Kenma in a towel, his hair wet, walking from the bathroom to his room and then back to the bathroom.

The second time he noticed it was when he was fixing Kenma’s collar for one of his important meetings with the Bouncing Ball board. Kenma was nervous about having to present a long report and fretted over what he was wearing. As a joke to try to sooth his nerves, Kuroo fake inspected his entire outfit closely, hemming and hawing all the way around. He declared Kenma’s outfit to have passed his inspection except for the fact the collar was messed up in the back. He decided to fix it for Kenma in one swift motion and placed a kiss on his forehead, telling him he would be fine.

The third time he noticed it was actually after Kenma had already left. It was early in the morning, and Kenma had woken him up, standing next to Kuroo’s bed. He sheepishly asked if he could try sleeping in Kuroo’s bed as being alone was particularly bothersome. Sleepy Kuroo was more than happy to oblige and let his soulmate, wearing nothing but oversized pajama pants, into his bed. It wasn’t until Kenma had probably gotten halfway to Bouncing Ball that Kuroo realized it.

He didn’t think Kenma was wearing the necklace anymore. He didn’t see it any of those times, but it still gave him pause. It was normal to shower without a necklace or even to sleep without it, especially with something like a ring that could poke into your chest, something you’d avoid if you couldn’t sleep. Even though he didn’t notice the necklace when serving as a fashion critic for Kenma, it could have been tucked away particularly well, not gone, but out of sight.

But now, he got his answer. In the box that he had just opened were some objects, mostly pictures in frames. One was of Kenma’s wedding. One was of him and Shouyou after their game at nationals. One was a picture of Kenma wearing an MSBY jersey and Shouyou wearing a Kodzuken hoodie. There were other things in it too, movie tickets, sticky notes, but the thing that got his attention was a gold wedding band on a chain.

“Did you find it?” Kenma called up the stairs.

Kuroo quickly shut the box and opened the one next to it, finding the box containing some of Kenma’s older clothes. They were going to go through it and donate all of the ones he didn’t want anymore.

“Yeah, sorry,” Kuroo responded, feeling guilty for invading Kenma’s privacy, even though it was a mistake, “I’m bringing it down now.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Kuroo asked, holding the boxes of supplies.

“It’s fine. They won’t know we’re together and if they somehow find out, then I’ll just tell them the truth,” Kenma said with a dismissive wave.

“I’m not sure they’ll believe the truth,” Kuroo pointed out as he dropped the small boxes on Kenma’s desk, “No offense but I think your fans are rabid.”

“Oh, they’re definitely rabid,” he said with a laugh, “But honestly I don’t care if they believe me or not. It’s not like I haven’t gone viral for worse.”

“Infidelity is pretty bad, Kenma,” he countered.

“I’m not worried about it,” he said, grabbing Kuroo’s hand and placing a quick kiss on each of his fingers, “Actually they’re probably less likely to believe me if I don’t come out and just tell them.”

“You think so?” Kuroo asked.

“My publicist will kill me, but I don’t care. Do you mind if I tell them? It’s completely understandable if you’re not comfortable with having the whole world know,” Kenma asked.

“I would love for the whole world to know that you’re mine,” he responded.

“Gross,” Kenma said with a laugh, “You about ready?”

They’d gone over what was going to go down a few times. Kenma would start the stream and do a quick introduction to what they were doing, and then Kuroo would dye his hair. The only difference was now they were going to know that Kuroo wasn’t just a friend. He was still pretty sure it was a bad idea, but that didn’t mean he was against it. He was in full support of this bad idea.

“Welcome, everyone,” Kenma said as Kuroo watched him from out of the frame, “I’m going to wait until more people get here to actually start, but I think we’re about to have a lot of fun on this stream.”

Kuroo watched as he scanned the chat, looking for something to talk about while he waited to officially get going.

“Am I going to make merch with my new hair? I mean, I could? Would anyone even wear that? I mean I definitely wouldn’t,” he said with a laugh, “Oh, all proceeds from it going to the charity, too? Yeah, I think we can arrange that. I’ll talk to my team.”

Kuroo decided he could watch Kenma stream all day. He was just so good at it. He was funny, and smart, and just overwhelmingly delightful.

“Well, I say we get started. For those of you who have no idea what’s going on today, I’ve been holding a fundraiser for a charity that gives teenagers around the country a free and easily accessible electrocardiogram test. Basically, what it does is look at the heart and it’s rhythm to help see if it’s damaged or has a congenital defect. The point of it is to find defects or damage early enough so that they can be found and treated before it’s too late,” Kenma explained.

Kuroo wondered if his fans knew that he chose that charity because of Shouyou. They found out that he died of an unnoticed congenital heart defect. That test probably would have saved his life.

“Anyway, I set a goal for you guys to reach, and you almost doubled it. For every five dollars you donated, you got one vote on what color I’m dyeing my hair that I just finished bleaching for you guys a few days ago. I’m not going to lie, the fact that black was in second place was really funny. I’m deeply impressed by your guys’ dedication to the joke. Also it was my team’s bad for letting this be an open poll. I did unfortunately have them remove the penis option, so sorry if you voted for that one. The winning option was also not even a color, which is not particularly surprising. I will have learned from my mistakes if we ever do this again. The winner was cotton candy, so what I did was buy light pink and light blue, because that seemed like the right thing to do. Any objections?” he asked the chat, “What pattern do you guys think I should do it in?”

He looked at the suggestions flying in. Most of them involved the word penis. Kuroo stifled a laugh as he read the chat on his own computer.

“What’s the point of dyeing your hair if you can’t even see what color it is?” Kenma read from that chat, “That’s actually a spectacular question. I have something to tell you guys and I’m a bit nervous about it, so bear with me here. Close to a year ago now, one day I was able to see the color green again. Since then, I’ve also regained the ability to see yellow and blue, too. So I’ll be able to see the blue parts of my hair, but not the pink.”

Kenma started nervously bouncing his leg under the desk and it didn’t escape Kuroo’s attention. He wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to say anything, but he knew Kenma’s mic would pick it up.

“Wait, that’s not possible?” Kenma read, “Yeah, that’s what I thought, too. Apparently I’m only the fourth person who’s ever been confirmed by medical professionals to have it happen. I’m currently a part of research on it. They keep attaching nodes to my head to try to figure out what makes my brain different. It’s kinda freaky.”

Kuroo always took the time to explain to Kenma what all of the tests they run on him are for. Some were fairly standard medical tests, others were quite a bit more experimental. The ones he hadn’t heard of, he researched, so that he could give Kenma a heads up.

“Is your husband a zombie?” Kenma laughed a bit, “I’m going to pretend that this wasn’t funny in a really dark way, but no, my husband is not back from the dead. Why is it happening then? Also a good question. I have another soulmate. That seems to be the consensus of everyone. They think the reason the colors are appearing one by one is because of the grief, but once again, this whole thing is super rare and I’m practically patent zero. It’s been pretty weird making the adjustment from no color, to all of the colors, to no color, to some of the colors throughout my gaming career. I’m hoping I can get them all back soon. Rainbow Road just hits differently when you can really see it. For any of you out there who haven’t seen colors yet, have some people over and play Mario Kart when it happens. It’s so cool.”

Kuroo watched the chat carefully. It was a very mixed bag. Some fans were calling bullshit. Others were making zombie jokes. Some stayed on topic of his hair. Others had questions about his color vision.

“Am I being sponsored by Mario Kart? No, I am not being sponsored by Nintendo. If Nintendo would like to sponsor me, I will let you guys know. I just think that the course goes from great to incredible with the color. I can only see half of it, though, so it’s just incre,” he said with a waggle of his eyebrows and paused for comedic effect, “Okay, I get it. You didn’t like that joke. Soulmate reveal? You guys want a soulmate reveal?”

Kuroo couldn’t help but smile. Leave it to Kenma to do something he was going to do anyway but get his fans super stoked about it first. It’s one of the reasons why he was very good at what he did.

“I think maybe that can be arranged. Does my soulmate want to come dye my hair?” he asked, looking at Kuroo off screen.

Kuroo got up, suddenly nervous. Tens of thousands of people would be watching him. He felt his mouth go dry. He had no idea how high school Kenma was able to stream even though he only had a few viewers back then. He awkwardly walked over to Kenma and held the dye boxes up to the camera.

“Alrighty, everyone. This is Kuroo, my soulmate, but most importantly, my hair stylist for the day,” Kenma told his fans.

“Hurtful,” Kuroo said with a laugh.

It also threw him off just a bit to be called Kuroo. When they were younger, Kenma would alternate between Kuro and Kuroo, but he hadn’t been Kuroo to Kenma for years now.

“Have you guys decided how the hair is going to be dyed? Half and half? Stripes?” Kenma asked, “Ah, no. I will not be dyeing it in penis shapes, but thank you for the suggestion. Horizontal stripes? I don’t think that’s going to work, either.”

“I think we could at least try,” Kuroo pointed out as he got to work mixing the dyes into separate bowls.

“That would look terrible,” Kenma insisted, “Come on chat, give me something good.”

“I don’t know, Kenma. It is a charity stream after all,” he said with a laugh.

“Who’s side are you on?” Kenma asked, “Okay fine. We will try horizontal stripes, but I want it noted that I think this is an absolutely terrible idea. Also, It’s one of those rare times where I’m not playing a game so you have my full attention. Ask me some questions, and please, somewhat normal ones.”

“Hold your hair up,” Kuroo instructed.

He went around the perimeter of Kenma’s scalp, spreading Vaseline on his hairline to stop the dye from getting on his skin.

“Okay, great, so I’m not acknowledging any of the Vaseline questions. Maybe try a different topic. Oh, let me tell you about the EEG tests I’ve done. Basically they stick a bunch of nodes to my head with weird glue stuff. It’s absolutely freaky. I still like that one more than the MRI. That one's extra freaky. They put you into this tube where you can’t move and it makes loud noises. It’s an absolute nightmare if you’re claustrophobic. It’s both fun and terrifying to be a science experiment.”

“You ready?” Kuroo asked, holding the light blue dye bowl up.

Kenma gave him a nod of approval, and he went to work.

“What color do I miss the most? That’s actually a great question. I’d probably have to say red. It’s just so vibrant. Wait, what? No, it has nothing to do with that. How did you guys even find out where I went to high school? That’s really weird. I thought I had at least some secrets in my life,” he said with a laugh, “Oh, did Kuro and I meet at Nekoma? You wanna answer that one?”

“We actually met as kids,” he said as he focused on making an even baby blue line, “I was eight when I moved next door to Kenma. We did go to Nekoma all the way up together, though.”

“They want to know if you have experience dyeing hair,” Kenma said.

“I helped him bleach it the other day, but that’s about it,” he said with a laugh.

“Okay so I’m seeing some questions about Kuro here that I will not answer. I will not tell you his phone number, or his dick size, or our address, but I will answer whether or not he is single. He is not. Thank you for asking, though. Oh, yeah, he is tall. He’s in the 190s range,” Kenma said humored exasperation clear in his tone, “I will also not tell you my dick size, either. Why do you need to know?”

Kuroo focused on getting the light pink layer under the blue one. He tried not to smile at Kenma and the chat’s antics.

“I’m going to ask that you guys stay somewhat respectful here. Mods, please,” Kenma said.

Kuroo tried to see what he was talking about but he couldn’t read what was going on in the chat from the angle he was at.

“Does Kuro play basketball? What just because he’s tall means he plays a sport? Unbelievable you guys. Just kidding, he was a professional volleyball player for a bit though,” Kenma said, “I honestly don’t know what you mean about me having a type. They’re not all that similar, like at all.”

“They meant professional volleyball players, genius,” Kuroo supplied for him.

“Okay, hurtful. How’s this going?” he asked, gesturing at his hair.

“It’s, uh, going?” he supplied unhelpfully.

Getting horizontal stripes into hair wasn’t as easy as he’d thought, but he had gotten a fair amount done. It didn’t look terrible, but it definitely didn’t look good either.

“Will Kuro dye his hair too? Oh sorry guys,” Kenma said talking to the chat, “Kuro has a real person job and can’t just destroy his hair for fun. Unlike me, he can’t just fire anyone who makes fun of his hair. Just kidding, I would obviously never do that.”

Kuroo rolled his eyes as he continued brushing the dye on.

“What does he do? Hmm, I let him answer that question,” he said before he muted his mic, “Do you mind if I go pee real fast or do you want me to turn off the camera until I get back?”

“No, that’s fine,” he said.

He was a bit nervous about being left alone with the chat, but really, how bad could it be?

Kenma unmuted his mic and said, “I’ll be right back guys. He’s going to tell you about his job. Please behave.”

“Ah, so uh,” he said, finally getting to really read through the chat, “I work for the Japan Volleyball Association and basically I promote the sport to kids. I do things like advertising pro games and creating initiatives to get equipment to younger kids and more nets to areas without places to play.”

He reminded himself to do it how Kenma does and repeat the question first. He got nervous as he looked through the hundreds of questions and comments scrolling by. Some of them were really funny. They were asking about Kenma’s dick size again. Some of them were very hurtful. They called him a homewrecker, saying he took advantage of Kenma. Some were actually answerable questions about how he got his job or what he liked about it or other things about him and Kenma. The one that was really catching on though, almost everyone started spamming it, was why he worked at all since Kenma had a ton of money.

He picked one of the answerable questions, “Did Kenma play volleyball? Oh yeah he did. I feel like that’s probably something he didn’t want me to tell you now that I think of it, but yeah, he played for years.”

Most of the chat was still focused on why he chose to work still. He ignored them.

“What positions? I’m hoping you mean volleyball-wise. I was a middle blocker and Kenma was a setter,” he told them, getting a bit more comfortable with the interaction.

Why do you still work? You could quit your job, you know? These and other variations made up most of the chat. There were a few actual questions peppered in that he could see, though.

“Was he good? Well, that’s complicated, but yeah, he was really good. The thing about Kenma was even though he was short and not particularly powerful, he was always easily the scariest one on the court. Frankly, I’m thankful I never played against him in volleyball. You should see him trash me at video games sometime, though,” he said looking for something else to talk about.

“Okay, fine,” he said finally acknowledging the question that people had just started copy pasting over and over in the chat, “Why do I work when Kenma is a millionaire? Because he is not my sugar daddy, but thank you for asking.”

“Well, why not?” Kenma said with a laugh as he walked back in, “I see this is going well.”

Kuroo covered his eyes in embarrassment before remembering that tens of thousands of people could see him.

“I told you guys to be nice,” Kenma lamented as he took his seat back in front of his computer, “He’s new at this. Alright, what else do you guys have?”

Kuroo was glad to be back to working on Kenma’s hair. Talking to that many people was stressful. He felt like somehow the conversation got out of hand even though he was fully in charge.

“Wow, you’re telling me that Kuro told you guys my dick size while I was gone? This is what I get for leaving you guys unsupervised.”

Kuroo sat with his long legs stretched onto the ottoman in front of him. Kenma laid on the couch facing the TV with his head on Kuroo’s thigh. They sat in silence playing through a couch co-op game that was easy enough that even Kuroo wasn’t having much issue with it. It was a simple side scroller, but it was still somewhat engaging.

He took a second to look down at Kenma’s hair that had almost gone back to its bleached look. If you looked closely, you could see the faint remnants of the bright dye. He considered whether or not Kenma would dye it again, and if so, what color. It made him think of all those years ago when he bleached it for the first time. It was such a surprise. It occurred to him that while he could see what Kenma’s hair looked like at the time, Kenma wouldn’t have been able to. Maybe it would have made him stand out less in a grey tone. It certainly didn’t in full color.

“You need to wait,” Kenma said.

“Pardon?” Kuroo asked, confused.

“On that ledge. You need to wait so it triggers the one after it to start moving,” Kenma said.

Kuroo followed the instructions. He definitely hadn’t been thinking about the game, though he was enjoying it. Something about being able to soundlessly work through a game, but to do it together, was really fulfilling. He let himself get sucked into the game, the rises and falls of the music. He focused intently, but not in a straining way, more like he was blocking everything else out so the game became his focus by default.

He was struggling with the timing mechanism of the current level. Even though it had his entire focus and he knew what he was supposed to do, he couldn’t quite get it. It seemed like he was always a second too early or a second too late.

“Try counting to three and repeating it,” Kenma quietly suggested.

He gave it a shot, but it didn’t quite work.

“Wait, how fast is three?” Kuroo asked.

Kenma soundlessly used his pinky to tap a beat onto Kuroo’s thigh. He counted in his head along with the beat. One, two, jump. One, two, jump. One, two, jump. He successfully made his way to the final ledge in the level.

“Thanks,” he murmured.

He smoothed Kenma’s hair out while waiting for the next level to start. He watched Kenma’s ribcage expand and contract as he let out a content sigh. They worked through the next level, soundlessly, having to go back to the beginning a couple times. Obviously, Kenma was good at video games, but Kuroo still had no idea how he was able to play while laying down. He could hardly watch a movie while sideways, nevertheless actively play a game.

He got to another stuck point, being unable to cross a ravine. This time there were things being thrown at him that he had to dodge. Just as he was about to ask for help, he felt a finger tap a beat into his thigh. This time there were three light taps followed by one stronger one. He mentally counted. One, two, three, jump. One, two, three, jump. His character finally caught up to Kenma’s. They finished the level together.

“Kenma,” he said.

Kenma quietly hummed acknowledgement.

Suddenly a bit nervous, Kuroo ran his hand gently over Kenma’s hair again.

Kuroo took a second to build his courage back up and said, “Don’t feel like you have to say this back. I didn’t want to rush what we were becoming by saying it too early, b-“

“I love you, Kuro.”

“Wait, like really?” Kuroo asked, taken a bit by surprise.

“Yes, really,” Kenma said, putting his controller down, “I love you.”

He sat up next to Kuroo and looked at him, as if he was trying to communicate something with his eyes that he couldn’t say out loud. Kuroo leaned in to kiss him, slowly, giving him the chance to back away, but he didn’t.

They kissed slowly, like they had all of eternity to do it. There was no pressure, no urgency. Kenma shifted slowly into Kuroo’s lap making the positioning less awkward. Kuroo finally brought one of his hands into Kenma’s hair and felt one of Kenma’s hands brace gently on the side of his neck.

It was like Kuroo’s entire heart melted right there on the spot. They didn’t need to be in a hurry, because they’d have so much more time over the rest of their lives. Just feeling like they were at the very beginning of a path completely disarmed him.

“Wait,” Kuroo said, pulling back, “I didn’t end up saying it.”

He gently pressed his forehead to Kenma’s and said, “I love you, Kenma.”

Kenma laughed a quiet little laugh and placed a kiss on Kuroo’s cheek.

“Want to go- oh my god. Red. I was asking if you wanted to be upstairs, but red,” Kenma said with a grin.

“You’ve missed red,” Kuroo said, his eyes following Kenma’s to the painting behind him, “I’m glad you found it.”

“I’m going to kiss you again,” Kenma said quietly.

“Please do,” he smiled in response.

He stood looking out at the city at night in awe. He’d grown up in a big city, and had seen what a city looks like at night, and yet, from the vantage point of the top floor of this hotel, looking out the enormous glass windows, he was enamored. He couldn’t peel his eyes away. He stood there, looking out at the many lights thinking of the seemingly endless amount of people going about their infinitely complicated lives.

The thought brought him back to his own infinitely complicated life. Things were good, like really good. He was happy. He was in love with Kenma, like always, but now, Kenma loved him back. Even Kenma seemed to be really happy lately. It was like somehow his years of pain had finally let up a little, giving him room to live, and to be happy, and to love. He spent a lot of time streaming but recently he’d picked up a baking habit too, trying and usually failing to make complicated recipes. When he wasn’t doing those things, he was typically with Kuroo, kissing his cheek, holding his hand, and demanding his cuddles. They were both happy separately, but they were also happy together. It was divine.

They planned this vacation together, excitedly. They picked this hotel specifically for the view, scoped out places to eat, and researched things to go do. Earlier in the day they had gone to a famous garden filled with all sorts of plants and art. Even though they both thought it wouldn’t necessarily be something they’d enjoy, they both ended up being glad they went. They spent a lot of their time at the nice dinner place they went to talking about some of the things they saw as they drank expensive wine. They planned to do the same exact thing the next day. Wake up. Be in love for a few hours. Grab a quick breakfast. Find something to do. Eat dinner. Enjoy the beautiful hotel room.

As he stood, on this perfect vacation, looking out at the beautiful city, and listening to the somewhat sappy playlist that Kenma had put on, he tried not to let his mind wander to the one bad thing, but he couldn’t help himself. And it wasn’t that bad, not really. He was overwhelmingly happy and his life was going really well. There was no denying it. It was just that he figured they might not get married, or at least not anytime soon. It made him a pinch sad, but he just ignored the feeling. He assumed getting married would put Kenma through a lot of his grief again, so he didn’t really want to bring it up, not quite yet anyway. He could understand how it would be a difficult thing for Kenma to handle, and things had been going so well, he didn’t want to ruin them by bringing it up, so he didn’t, but he couldn’t help but think how many times on this trip would have been awesome moments to propose. They’d go on more trips. He didn’t have to do it quite yet. He would get the nerve to bring it up and then they would go on another incredible trip like this and he would propose. He couldn’t wait, but really, he also felt like he had time and he needed to just focus on enjoying the now.

“Hey, Kenma,” he said turning around, “About dinner tomor-“

He felt as if his heart stopped for a moment when he saw Kenma in front of him, on one knee, holding a ring box.

“Marry me,” he said, his eyes bright, “I’m bad at words. I’m sorry, but I love you, Kuro. You make me so happy. You are the light of my life, so please, will you marry me?”

Surprise was an understatement. He stood for a second in shock not knowing what to say. Of course he wanted to get married, but was that what was best for Kenma? Did Kenma just ask for his sake?

“Kenma,” he started, hesitantly, “Are you-“

“You better not be asking me if I’m sure. I know you’ve spent so much time worried about my feelings. You’ve spent so much time actively not pressuring me, and I thank you so incredibly much for that, but it’s done now. There’s nothing to hesitate about anymore. I’m sorry it took us such a long time to get here, and I know it was neither of our faults, but we are here now. That's what matters. I love you, Tetsurou, and I loved you yesterday, and I will love you tomorrow, and I will love you every single tomorrow for the rest of my life. Not only that, but I will love you twice as hard to make up for all of the days I spent not loving you, so please. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I want to marry you,” he said, the words pouring out of him, “Please tell me you’ll marry me.”

Kuroo couldn’t help the tears that started to stream down his face. He was overwhelmed by the love he felt, by the happiness. This was everything he had ever wanted.

“I love you so much,” he choked out through the tears that were showing no sign of stopping, “Yes, I’ll marry you. Of course I’ll marry you.”

He wiped his tears with one hand as Kenma slipped the ring on his other.

“Mm, come here,” Kenma muttered, his voice thick with sleep, and his hand gently touching Kuroo’s middle back.

Kuroo let out a yawn and rolled over making sure to place a kiss on Kenma’s forehead. He sleepily wrapped his arms around him and gave him a squeeze for good measure. Mornings with Kenma were so utterly pleasant. It was a weird thing, pleasant typically came with a gentle sort of connotation, but he wouldn’t call it a gentle feeling. It was a consuming feeling of pleasantness, like his brain was drowning in contentness. He didn’t think he’d mind if he spent the rest of his life like this.

“I was thinking,” he said, kissing the top of Kenma’s head, “I might go to a hairstylist. See if they can find a good way to calm down my hair for the wedding.”

“Why?” Kenma asked, pulling back to look at him.

“I mean it’s undeniably always a mess. It should look nice for the photos and whatnot,” he said.

Kenma pulled himself tighter into Kuroo’s chest and said, “Obviously do whatever makes you happy, but I don’t think you need to at all.”

“It’s so out of control, though,” Kuroo pointed out.

“Mhm,” Kenma said, kissing his chest, “But it looks like you, so who cares? I’ve always found it endearing, but like I said, I’m not trying to tell you what to do.”

Kuroo thought about it for a moment. He did like his hair that way. Obviously he would have changed it if he didn’t like it. He wondered what Kenma meant by always. For how long has he found his hair endearing? His hair had been like this just about forever.

“Wait, how long is always?” Kuroo asked him.

“Like always, always” he said in response, “Alright maybe not always. I thought it was ridiculous when we first met.”

“In your defense, it is also ridiculous,” Kuroo conceded.

“Let me know if you have other thoughts about the wedding,” Kenma said, “I’ve been trying to do more planning.”

“I’m going to try to be less drunk this time,” Kuroo said with a laugh.

Kenma gently smacked Kuroo’s back, “God, I hope so. I think you might die of alcohol poisoning if you get any drunker. I also think it would be nice if you’d be able to remember at least most of our wedding.”

“Who needs a liver anyway?” Kuroo asked flippantly.

Kenma laughed into his chest. They’d been occasionally making indirect jokes about stuff like that for a while now, but recently they’d just been going for it. It was admittedly pretty funny. Funny at the time? No. Funny now? Definitely.

“Hungry?” Kenma asked.

Kuroo nodded, “Yeah, I could eat.”

“Alright,” he said, disentangling himself from Kuroo, “I’ll go make breakfast.”

“Absolutely, not,” Kuroo declared, pulling him back in.

When he walked inside after work, the lights were all off. Considering the fact that Kenma said he wasn’t going into the office today, it was a little odd. He didn’t typically leave all of the lights off. Maybe he was out getting groceries or something.

Kuroo made his way upstairs and changed into a pair of pajama pants and a T-shirt. It was one of those days where he just wanted to chill out. It wasn’t like work had been bad, but he wanted to be done for the week and was excited to have a lazy night.

He turned some music on and made his way downstairs. He popped open a beer and figured he’d wait for Kenma to get home. He missed Kenma while at work. Lately the two of them had been playing round after round of a new card game and during his meetings, he couldn’t help but wish he was hanging out with Kenma instead. That’s what he could do, he could mess around with the deck until Kenma got back.

“Hmm, where is..?” he said to himself as he rooted around the dining room drawers.

He grabbed the deck with a smile and made his way to the front room so he could flop on the couch, drink his beer, and play around with some strategies.

He flicked on the lights and nearly jumped out of his skin as he saw Kenma sitting on the couch, curled in against the arm rest. He was staring blankly at the wall.

“Sorry, I would have come over sooner if I realized you were here,” Kuroo said as he focused on trying to half his heartbeat.

Kenma may have nodded. Kuroo couldn’t really tell. It looked like it could have been a nod, but it was hardly a perceptible movement. Kuroo wondered how long he had been sitting there like that. He'd only had one work meeting and then he was going in for another EEG for research purposes. Kuroo wondered where it went wrong. Days like these, while often very far apart, did still happen occasionally. A part of him wondered if that would always be true.

He sorted through his mental file of comforting Kenma tactics. He’d amassed quite a few. He was debating which one to use when an idea occurred to him. When they were younger, Kenma used to love bonfires. He told Kuroo something about the warm smoke clashing with the cold air and the bright flames clashing with the dark sky felt exhilarating to him.

“I’ll go start a bonfire,” he said, “I think it’s the perfect weather for it.”

He reached down to grab Kenma’s hand, but Kenma grabbed his first. He was squeezing pretty hard.

“Please, no,” he responded, a tear rolling down his cheek, as he sat up, “Not that.”

“Okay, okay. No worries. What do you need from me instead?” Kuroo asked.

He let Kuroo’s hand drop and didn’t say anything, but the tears started flowing. There were a couple different paths when this happened. The first one was to distract, to get Kenma’s mind entirely off of what was bothering him. The second one was to actively face the feelings head on and put them into words. The third one was to let him work it out on his own but to be there for him.

He went back to the kitchen to brew some tea. Kenma didn’t always drink it when he was upset, but Kuroo had learned that holding the steamy mug sometimes helped make him feel better. He wondered if it worked the same way as a hot shower, but on a smaller scale.

He wordlessly returned to Kenma and practically placed the mug in his hands. He sat on the ground in front of the couch, the right side of his body gently leaning against the outside of Kenma’s left leg. He was trying to find a balance between absent and overbearing. He felt Kenma’s leg softly press into his arm.

He waited in silence, wondering if he should say something. Eventually, he felt a hand in his hair, slowly brushing over the mess.

“Want to talk about it?” Kuroo asked.

He didn’t get a response, so he sat quietly. Maybe he would order takeout. Kenma probably hadn’t eaten. He felt his phone buzz in his pocket just as he was about to take it out to look through some different options. It was a text, two actually.

World Famous Fiancé: Yeah
World Famous Fiancé: But I don’t think I can

Kuroo was pretty sure he knew what Kenma meant. Sometimes when he was upset, he couldn’t force the words out for whatever reason, even when he wanted to. Kenma explained that he had the words, that he knew exactly what to say, but it was like the connection between his brain and his lips had been severed. He was almost positive that this was what was happening, and that would be fine. They’d dealt with that before. The other option was that Kenma couldn’t talk about it for some other reason. The thought made Kuroo tense up. His mind went to too many places all at once. Was Kenma sick? Did he lose his colors? Did he stop loving Kuroo? He had been at a research appointment. Did they discover that he wasn’t actually Kenma’s soulmate?

“Just to clarify, love,” Kuroo said, “It’s a you can’t speak the words out loud problem, not a something unspeakable has happened problem?”

He tried to keep his voice even, to be optimistic. Being optimistic that his fiancé was just distraught to the point of entering a non-verbal state was decidedly a bit messed up, but that’s where he was. It was somehow the better option.

World Famous Fiancé: Mostly the first one

The answering was both relieving and not. The ‘mostly’ there confused things. In theory that had to mean it was just a small issue, right?

“Want to try talking like this?” Kuroo asked, “Or maybe I could go grab takeout and some time and some food might help?”

World Famous Fiancé: The second one

“Alright,” Kuroo said getting up, “I’ll be right back.”

He grabbed Kenma’s free hand and placed a quick kiss on it before pocketing his phone and heading to the garage.

On his way to the restaurant, he tried to empty his mind. He tried not to let it wander. He kept kicking the thought that they’d discovered Kenma’s color vision was all a fluke and that this had all been a lie. He tried to discard it, but it kept coming back. It couldn’t be true, he thought to himself, because he’d gotten to watch Kenma fall in love with him over the last few years. It was really awkward at first, but they had tackled the awkwardness together. He’d of course been loving Kenma forever, but catching Kenma stealing glances at him or smiling through their kisses was such an experience. The way that the corners of Kenma’s mouth turned up even at his absolute worst jokes made him feel a way he couldn’t even describe. At first he was nervous that it wouldn’t end up working out, that it’d be a passing thing even though what they had was incredibly rare, but lately he’d let his guard down. He indulged in the fact that Kenma actually loved him. Kenma was the one who proposed to him. It couldn’t be a lie, right?

He tried to keep his focus on the road as he drove back to the house, but his brain just kept producing images of Kenma calling off their engagement, telling him he wasn’t the one. As hard as losing Kenma was before they had ever gotten together was, he wasn’t sure he’d actually be able to survive losing Kenma after they’d been so happy together. He was so happy. Everything was going so well. He squeezed the steering wheel so hard his fingers started to hurt. He couldn’t lose Kenma again.

He was frazzled as he entered their home with the takeout bags. He reminded himself that Kenma said it was mostly just a physiological issue, not a situational one, but that word ‘mostly’ wouldn’t let him distill the thoughts. He noticed that he was breathing heavily and he did his best to slow it down. He needed a clear mind.

He found Kenma already at the table, staring down at the dark marble. He noticed that he had placed a glass of water in front of Kuroo’s spot as well.

“Thanks,” Kuroo said, beginning to unpack the takeout containers, handing Kenma his.

He was going to say something, to ask what was on Kenma’s mind, but he was too scared. Maybe in the time it took Kenma to speak would be the last little time left of happiness he had. Not that he was happy at the moment, though. He was terrified. He ate in scared silence, not even daring to look at Kenma.

“I’m sorry,” Kenma’s quiet and foggy voice finally came, “They think I might never get orange back.”

“What?” Kuroo asked, his nervous brain not really able to compute the information.

“They noted how it’s been a really long time since I’d gotten all of the other ones back and so we did some color based stimulus tests and they think I might not get it,” he explained quietly, “I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you and I feel terrible about it.”

He stumbled over his reply, “What does, so what do, what do you think that means?”

“I guess the part of my brain they think is linked to the orange is just dead, for reasons I assume are obvious. They said they don’t think anything else has changed, just that they think orange is out of the question,” he said.

That explained the bonfire reaction. A wave of relief crashed over him. Kuroo felt the tension leave his chest. He let out a breath. He covered his eyes with his hands as he took a minute to settle himself. Everything was fine. He just wouldn’t be able to see orange. That’s fine. Orange wasn’t even a good color anyway.

“Christ,” Kuroo said, reaching across the table to grab Kenma’s hands, “I thought you were going to tell me they thought I wasn’t your soulmate after all.”

“Oh god no,” he responded horrified, “I mean it’s bad, but it’s not that bad. I feel really guilty about it. Like, I don’t want to be broken anymore. I want to give you all of me. You deserve to have all of me. It’s not fair that you probably won’t ever have that.”

“Hold up,” Kuroo said, getting up and walking to where his fiancé was sitting, “Come here.”

Kenma awkwardly got up and Kuroo wrapped his arms around him. He placed a kiss on the top of Kenma’s head. He gave Kenma a good squeeze and then took a deep breath.

“My love, please do not feel guilty over something you have no control over,” he said, “Orange or not, you love me. You love me with all that you have, and that’s literally my wildest dream come true.”

“I was afraid you weren’t going to believe that I was in love with you. I had spent so much time not being in love with you that I didn’t want you to think that I still wasn’t,” he responded, “I mean the scientists were saying it, but it’s not true, I promise. I’m in love with you. Like madly in love with you.”

“Hey Kenma, fuck the scientists. I believe you,” Kuroo said, one hundred percent meaning it, “I love you.”

His love story may have started off pretty poorly, but that didn’t mean it had to end that way too. Kenma not being able to see orange didn’t matter to him. Sure, it was certainly because of his last love, but so what? They were happy together now. That’s what mattered. Kuroo would give up all of his colors in an instant if that’s what he had to do to keep loving Kenma. To hell with that, he’d give up all of his vision. He’d give anything. What’s a small lack of orange matter when the two of them had literally everything else and their entire lives ahead of them to love and be loved?

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” Kuroo said, wiping his feet on the welcome mat at the tattoo shop. It was pouring outside.

He had set the appointment as a surprise for Kenma’s birthday, but he really wanted to be there with him during it. The place he had ordered drinks and dessert from hadn’t had them ready when he was supposed to pick them up. He held the drinks in his hands, and the desserts sat in the back of their car in a small cooler.

“You with Kozume?” the very tattooed woman at the desk asked, “He’s in the second room to the left.”

Kuroo thanked her and made his way to the room. He walked in as the piercer walked out.

“Hey, I’m sorry I missed it. How was it?” Kuroo asked, “Let me see!”

Kenma turned around to look at him with a grin. The little gold hoop in his nostril glinted under the lighting.

“I love it,” Kuroo said, moving closer to him to get a better look, “Did it hurt?”

“Only a bit,” he said, a smile in his eyes.

“It looks so good on you,” Kuroo said, taking a moment to kiss his forehead, making sure not to accidentally touch his nose. He handed Kenma his drink.

“Thank you,” he responded, taking a sip, “I wish I would have done it a long time ago. I’m not going to lie, I was kinda surprised when you told me. I didn’t remember telling you I wanted one.”

“You didn’t,” Kuroo said with a smile, “I could just tell.”

“Nervous?” Bokuto asked, as he flitted around the room, looking for something to help out with.

“In a way,” Kuroo responded, “It’s not like a bad nervous. I’m not scared or anything. I’m very ready and my heart is beating very quickly.”

“Kuroo-san,” Akaashi interjected, “I think the word you’re looking for is excited.”

“I think you’re probably right,” he said smiling at himself in the mirror, smoothing out his clothing.

He wasn’t lying about his heartbeat. It was like his entire body was pulsing with excitement. Today was the day. He’d always, always loved sappy things. Even when he was a little boy he was a romantic, so this for him, was everything. To make it better, it wasn’t like he was poor growing up, but he certainly didn’t imagine being able to afford the wedding of his dreams.

“You’re finally becoming a Kozume,” Bokuto said, putting his hand on his shoulder, “I’m happy for you.”

“Wait a minute,” Kuroo said, “That was supposed to be a surprise. Did I tell you that?”

“Years ago, yeah,” Akaashi said.

“I don’t remember that,” he said with a smile, “But I definitely meant it. I’ve been wanting to become a Kozume for a very long time.”

“You’ve been like disgustingly in love for years now,” Bokuto said with a laugh, “That’s for sure.”

The door opened and Kenma strode in. Kuroo couldn’t help but take the sight of him in. He was captivated. His long hair was adorned with a small braid on either side, pulled together behind his head in a bun. It looked so good that way. That’s not even beginning to get into how good he looked in his wedding attire. Kuroo’s heart was about to beat out of his chest.

“Out,” Kenma said, pointing at Bokuto and Akaashi.

“Kozume, don’t you know it’s bad luck to see your fiancé before the wedding?” Akaashi asked, “Also I can’t believe your best man just let you leave.”

“Bad luck is fake and my best man is easily fooled, now please,” he said, nodding towards the door.

The two gave concerned looks and walked out.

“Kenma, you look so good,” Kuroo said slowly, still taken with his hair, “But is everything okay? Why are you here?”

Kenma strode across the room and grabbed his fiancé’s hands.

“It occurred to me we have an entire hour before the ceremony and I decided I missed you,” Kenma said, and then suddenly realized, “Sorry if the luck thing bothered you.”

Kuroo laughed a bit, “I’m marrying you. Today. I’m literally the luckiest man alive.”

“Good. Kiss me, then. Now,” Kenma commanded.

Kuroo grinned. His first instinct was to wind his hands into Kenma’s hair like he always did, but he stopped himself just in time. Instead he ushered Kenma over to sit on the counter. Not having the same restraints as Kuroo, Kenma’s hands found Kuroo’s hair in an instant as he pulled him in for a kiss. Between kisses they whispered about how much they loved each other. They smiled through their kisses. Grinned during their spoken exchanges.

“Just checking that everything is-“ Bokuto said, walking in, Akaashi in tow for back up.

“Good lord. You two are the absolute worst,” Akaashi said, taking in the sight of the two of them kissing like they’d just fallen in love for the first time, “We’ll be back when it’s time to get ready.”

Kenma removed a hand from Kuroo’s hair to wave them away.

“We’re about to get married,” Kenma said, grinning.

“We’re about to get married,” Kuroo hummed in response.

He then pulled his fiancé back in for another kiss.

Or two.

Or ten.

Okay, a lot more than ten.