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Kuroo’s phone camera flashes. Kuroo looks at the screen, unsatisfied. “Let me try again.”
Tsukishima rolls his eyes. “There will be photographers at the wedding. Can we get off this sidewalk?”
“Yeah, but they’ll be focused on the grooms. And I want this moment captured before our clothes get fucked up. How often do we look this good?”
Tsukishima has to admit that Kuroo looks very good. Damn, the man can wear a suit. Tsukishima also has to admit (though only to himself) that the picture-taking is only bothering him because he’s nervous. As a general rule, Tsukishima isn’t a fan of public displays of affection.
(Besides, he suspects there will end up being plenty of pictures of the two of them.)
“You always look good to me, baby,” Tsukishima says with a sarcastically saccharine smile
“Fuck off and get in the picture.”
“Fine.” Tsukishima rolls his eyes again as Kuroo puts one arm around him. He puts up his middle finger in the next one, even though he knows it’s only going to prolong the process.
“Hey!” says Kuroo, but he takes the picture anyway. Then, in a very different tone, he says it again. “Hey. Look at me.” Tsukishima looks, to find that Kuroo is smiling straight into his eyes. Damnit, not fair. Tsukishima feels himself melting, feels a genuine smile creeping over his face. The phone camera clicks; Tsukishima is sure that he looks ridiculously, sickeningly in love.
Which in fact, he is.
Eventually Kuroo is satisfied, and they head towards the hall. Kuroo is almost bouncing with delight. Tsukishima snickers.
“What?”
“You’re bouncing.”
“I’m excited! Also, wait until you see the inside.”
“I can’t wait.” Tsukishima is skeptical.
Kuroo can tell. “What?”
“I mean...a wedding planned by you and Bokuto? I have no idea what to expect here. Volleyball-themed, probably. Blue and yellow volleyballs everywhere.”
“Fuck you, it looks beautiful.”
It does look beautiful. There are no volleyballs in sight. Just thousands of twinkle lights, and lots of plants.
“See?” says Kuroo smugly. “I told you.”
Tsukishima shrugs. “Alright, alright. I admit, it’s - wait. Wait. Are those...owls?”
They were owls. There were owls everywhere. Little paper owls of varying sizes, in all the houseplants, and nestled in all the corners. It was a little….creepy.
Kuroo laughs as though he’s just pulled off a prank. “Isn’t it awesome? You don’t notice them at first glance, and then they’re everywhere !”
Tsukishima looks at him in mild horror. “You two are a menace.”
“We’re geniuses. Speaking of which, I’d better check in.”
Tsukishima hesitates. “Should I..?”
“Oh, come with me. They’ll want to see you.” They wind their way to the dressing room.
“Tsukki!!” Bokuto’s voice booms out as soon as they open the door. He’s grinning widely; he looks more pleased and proud than Tsukishima has ever seen him, and Tsukishima had watched him win several games at the Olympics. .
“Hey, Bo. Hey, Akaashi.” Akaashi greets him with a modulated raise of his hand. Apparently the two of them have decided to share the single dressing room.
“Place looks great, right?” Bokuto is bouncing more than Kuroo had been.
“It does.” Tsukishima smiles. It’s kindof hard not to smile around Bokuto.
“Did you see the owls?!”
Tsukishima’s eyes dart briefly to Akaashi, who gives him a tiny shrug and the barest nod. He looks wildly amused, but in a private Akaashi-way, which means it hardly shows at all.
“They’re..really something,” Tsukishima says carefully. Akaashi almost cracks a smile.
Kuroo and Bokuto are quickly lost in some back-and-forth nonsense; Tsukishima stands next to Akaashi. “How are you feeling?” he asks quietly.
“Good.” Akaashi is watching Bokuto, starry-eyed. “Lucky.”
“Yeah, I….don’t think that’s luck. You held on tight and never stopped loving each other. That’s not luck, it’s work.”
Akaashi blushes. “He makes it easy.”
Tsukishima scoffs. He cannot imagine Bokuto making anything easy. But on the other hand….his gaze rests on Kuroo. “I guess I know what you mean.”
Akaashi gives him a brief but pointed look. “And how are you?”
“Good.”
“Nervous?”
“Yeah.” Tsukishima meets Akaashi’s eyes seriously. “You’re sure?”
“You know how they are. It’s the best present you could give him, really.”
Tsukishima nods, and pats at his pocket; feels the reassuring lump there.
“You’ll be fine,” Akaashi says gently.
“So will you.”
“I know.” Akaashi really doesn’t look worried. He just looks lovestruck.
“Okay, well, all this mushy stuff is making me gag. I’m going to go find a seat.”
Akaashi snickers. Tsukishima claps Bokuto on the shoulder, and because they’re only with friends, he gives Kuroo a quick peck on the cheek before he leaves. (“Now who’s being mushy?” says Akaashi.)
Tsukishima is unreasonably grateful to see a slouched figure already seated and staring at his phone. He slides into the seat next to Kenma, who nods briefly without looking up. “Everybody good?” Kenma asks after a moment.
“Yep. Bokuto is bouncing off the walls. Akaashi is making lovestruck faces like he was drawn by Disney.”
“How’s Kuroo?”
It’s a fair question. Kuroo had cried, not gentle tears but actual sobs, when Bokuto had asked him to “unofficially officiate.” He did seem to have calmed down since then - or at least to have run to the other end of the emotional spectrum. “Bouncing off the walls too,” he tells Kenma. “I think they’ve channelled all their energy into owls.”
Kenma looks up from his phone for the first time. “I can’t believe Akaashi let him do that.”
“Me neither, but it does seem to have kept them occupied. At this point I’d say there’s only, like, a 30% chance of Kuroo breaking down completely during the ceremony.”
Kenma does the Kenma-equivalent of laugh, which is a tiny, barely-visible smile. “Best odds we could hope for, I think.”
The ceremony starts almost on time, which practically counts as early. Kuroo does not break down, or at least not completely. He is comfortable and exuberant and charming - basically, all the reasons they had asked him to be master of ceremonies in the first place. He does get misty-eyed when the two read their vows: Bokuto shaky and half-laughing, Akaashi steady and earnest and glowing. To his surprise, Tsukishima finds himself not just misty-eyed but actually crying, with tears slipping down his cheeks. Kenma reaches out and pats his hand, awkwardly, without looking over. Tsukishima surreptitiously checks his pocket. Still there.
When Kuroo pronounces them married and says “You may now kiss your husband,” Bokuto lets out a loud whoop and kisses Akaashi very soundly.
“Gross,” quips Kenma. But his eyes are soft.
It’s strange for Tsukishima, after the ceremony, because everyone else is more relaxed, and he himself is increasingly nervous. There’s dinner ( not yet ) and speeches ( not yet) and there’s Kuroo and Bokuto making a general ruckus. Finally there’s dancing, and it’s getting closer. And at last, Kuroo pulls Tsukishima onto the dance floor, and - maybe it’s now.
“Admit it,” says Kuroo quietly. “This is a great wedding.”
“It’s pretty good. It’s not exactly how I would do it, but it’s pretty good.”
“And how would you do it?” Kuroo’s question sounds casual, but Tsukishima can feel some weight behind the question. They haven’t explicitly talked about marriage, although they plan for a long-term future and are talking about buying a house. Tsukishima hadn’t thought Kuroo was even interested in marriage, until he saw the starry-eyed abandon with which his partner threw himself into this wedding.
“Well, fewer owls, to start with.”
“Oh come on. It’s like their mascot now! With the tattoos, and then the proposal ? It’s romantic.”
It is a little romantic, though Tsukishima will never admit it. “It’s tacky. I can’t believe they got those tattoos. I would have thought Akaashi had more sense.”
Kuroo chortles. “I think Akaashi likes Bokuto more than he likes sense.”
“I think you’re right.”
“Okay, so what else?” Kuroo is smiling like they’re playing a game, which Tsukishima supposes they are; a game of pretending that they aren’t talking about their own wedding.
Tsukishima smiles back. “I like the venue.” Kuroo had found the venue; his eyes sparkle, pleased. “And I like the lights.”
Kuroo rolls his eyes. “Oh my god. I mean yes, it’s gorgeous, but what a pain in the ass! It took an entire volleyball team to set this shit up.”
“Well... we know a volleyball team. Several, in fact.” Tsukishima’s heart beats a little louder; this is the first admission that they are talking about them .
Kuroo sucks in a breath; he’s starting to look a little dazed. “What else?” he asks, a little unsteadily.
Oh, shit, here we go. “Eh, the proposal. Too complicated. Too many props.” It had been a loud, public, New-Year’s-Eve affair, with sparklers and red roses and (of course) a stuffed owl. Bokuto had wanted to use a real owl, but Kuroo had managed to talk him out of that.
“Oh, well, yeah.” Kuroo looks down. “That was a Bokuto proposal, and Akaashi liked it because he likes Bokuto. But I mean, you - not everyone would want a public spectacle like that.”
This is it . Fuck. This is it . “But you would.” Tsukishima drops to one knee. Kuroo’s mouth falls open.
Tsukishima’s heart is pounding; his ears are roaring as he pulls the small box from his pocket and flips it open. He looks at Kuroo, whose eyebrows have shot up into his hairline and whose breathing seems to have come off the rails.
“Kuroo,” he says quietly. He’s trying to keep his eyes fixed on his partner’s face; to ignore the increasing number of people who are staring at them. “You know I love you. You know I want to spend my life with you. Will you marry me?” He had been worried that this speech was too short. He’s glad it was, now - any longer and he might not have been able to get through it.
Kuroo is nodding. He looks astonished, thunderstruck, and a little like he might cry. He just keeps nodding.
“Kuroo, is that yes?” More nodding. Tsukishima laughs shakily. “Could you say it, please?”
Kuroo drops to his knees. “Yes,” he whispers, and then he starts laughing, and then he throws his arms around Tsukishima’s neck. Tsukishima hugs him back, somewhat awkwardly at first, but then it occurs to him to put the ring back in his pocket, so he can wrap his arms around his boyfriend in earnest. His fiance, he corrects himself smugly.
He’s dimly aware of the dance floor digging into his knees; he’s dimly aware of the noise of people around him; he’s dimly aware of a Bokuto-shaped blur that is jumping and whooping and laughing and shouting. But mostly he’s aware of Kuroo, sharp-focused where everything else is hazy. Kuroo’s laughter in his ear, Kuroo’s breath on his cheek, and at last, Kuroo kissing him as soundly as Bokuto had kissed Akaashi, to a general round of applause. Tsukishima, for once, can’t bother to mind them being the center of attention. It feels right. Kuroo should be the center of attention; he’s the center of everything.
-----the next morning------
“Did Bokuto and Akaashi know?” Kuroo asks. It’s strange how normal the morning feels; they are drinking tea, like they usually would. In their normal kitchen, at their normal table, unglamorous in pajamas and old clothes. As though it’s a usual Sunday. The only difference: a gleam of black and gold on Kuroo’s finger. A difference that feels like everything.
“Akaashi did. I asked him if it was okay. I did ask him not to tell Bokuto.”
“And why’s that?” Kuroo looks, for some reason, deeply amused.
“I mean, it’s Bokuto. Secrets aren’t really his thing.”
Kuroo chuckles. “Oh, I don’t know. He did okay with this one.” And Kuroo slides a small box across the table. Not the box that Tsukishima has been hiding for a month. Something different, something that sparkled white and silver.
Tsukishima’s eyes widen slightly, but the rest of him is frozen. His mouth falls open, completely speechless. He feels his heart thump, in an echo of yesterday.
Kuroo takes his hand, and all the laughter drops from his face. “Tsukki. Tsukishima Kei. I think I’ve been in love with you since I first met you. Even when we were kids, even when we didn’t know it yet. And every single thing that has happened has made me more sure. I love being with you. I love living with you. I want us to be together forever.” Kuroo brushes his thumb across Tsukishima’s fingers. “Will you marry me?”
“Fuck,” says Tsukishima. “That speech was so much better than mine.”
Kuroo shakes his head. He grips Tsukishima’s hand tightly. “Please. Tsukki. Just answer me.” He looks and sounds genuinely nervous.
“Oh for god’s sake. Yes, you idiot! I asked you yesterday , remember?” Kuroo cackles, but he also puts the ring on Tsukishima’s finger, which is - rather breathtaking, really. Tsukishima smiles at Kuroo’s pleased expression. “You really had this?”
Kuroo gives him an exasperated nod. “I can’t believe you beat me to it. I had it all planned, too! Can I tell you about it?” Tsukishima nods. “I wanted to do it while we were on vacation. You know! Romance, dinner, sunset walk, full moon rising. And then, boom, ring!” He chuckles. “Cue Tsukki being swept off his feet, and then steamy engagement sex in the hot tub.”
Tsukishima can’t help laughing at Kuroo’s delight - and blushing a little, too. Last night had in fact been a little...intense. “That’s lovely,” he says. “Are you sorry you didn’t get to do it?”
Kuroo looks around at their normal, yet not-so-normal, Sunday. Their kitchen; their table; their tea; their life. “No.” He smiles. “This is perfect for you. Just like yours was perfect for me.” He stands up and walks to Tsukishima’s seat. Puts his hands on Tsukishima’s shoulders. “Tsukki,” he says. “Let’s just - let’s go back to bed.”
Tsukishima puts his hands on Kuroo’s forearms. Easy. Comfortable. His fiance. His future husband. “Yeah.”