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Kuroo smiled as he pushed Kenma towards the edge of the sand before stopping. Kenma handed him the bag from his lap and locked the wheels on his wheelchair.
“Ready for the longest part of our commute?” Kuroo asked.
“If you don’t shut your ass up, we’re going home,” Kenma said, crossing his arms.
“Yessir,” Kuroo responded. He walked over to the small corded off area and wiped the sand off the chairs. He set the pads from the bag across the bench and cleaned off the table, setting a tablecloth over it.
“Alright,” Kenma said, maneuvering his way out of his wheelchair. He braced himself on the handles while he waited for Kuroo to return.
Kenma slung an arm over his shoulder and felt Kuroo’s other arm snake around his waist. He grabbed onto that arm and they started making their way across the sand.
“Brunch is half off at the country club,” Kuroo pointed out as he helped Kenma onto his bench.
“Hmm,” Kenma said, “Could be arranged.”
“I am always in search of brunch.”
He walked back over to where the wheelchair was sitting and collapsed it, bringing it over to set it under their table.
“Sounds good to me.”
Kenma leaned down and pulled the deck of cards out of the bag, beginning to shuffle them.
“And you know where the country club is, right?” Kuroo asked.
“We go there three times a week,” Kenma said, staring him down, “My memory isn’t going that quickly.”
“It’s right across the street from your rheumatologist,” Kuroo pointed out, “We could go together.”
“No,” Kenma said, immediately, “Kings in the corner?”
Kuroo nodded so Kenma started dealing out their hands, setting up the deck. It had been their favorite game to play on their weekly outings to the beach.
“So why can’t I come?” Kuroo needled as he sorted his cards.
“Because you’re gonna be in there asking all of these questions and making recommendations for my health,” Kenma said plainly, placing his first card on the table.
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
“Nope,” he said, watching Kuroo play carefully, “It should be a discussion between me and my medical professionals.”
Kuroo frowned at him, his hand paused mid play.
“But I care about your health.”
He set his cards on the table face down.
“And so do I,” Kenma nodded, picking up a card, “Which is why I don’t need someone else there to make the situation more complicated. I know my health better than you and my doctors know medical interventions better than either of us.”
“I want to support you,” Kuroo stressed as Kenma moved a king.
“And you can,” Kenma said, “By listening when I tell you about it.”
Kuroo sensed the finality in Kenma’s tone and decided to drop it for the time being.
“I’ve been wanting to ask,” Kuroo said, “I noticed my calendar has a big fat ‘don’t plan anything’ over the course of a few days next month. Wanna tell me what that’s about?”
“Nope,” Kenma said with a grin, “It’s a surprise.”
“A good surprise?” Kuroo asked, raising his eyebrow.
“Depends on if you keep playing like a dick,” Kenma said, nodding to the board Kuroo was actively blocking off.
“Horribly rude,” Kuroo said, finishing up his turn, “So where are we going?”
“The sewer.”
They obviously were not going to the sewer unless Kuroo managed to outdo the worst Kings in the Corner player sevenfold. Instead, they were going to go on a trip to Fiji. Kuroo loved it there and Kenma wanted to surprise him.
“Tell me you don’t have…” Kuroo trailed off.
Kenma snorted, playing the card Kuroo hoped he didn’t have, ending the game.
“It’s hard being so good at this,” Kenma said, stretching.
Kuroo tossed his cards on the table in defeat. A child being pushed in a stroller down the walkway temporarily distracted them both. When Kenma looked back at his husband, he really didn’t like the look on his face. He’d gotten very familiar with that face and it always indicated that he was up to something.
“How bout a bet, sweetheart?” Kuroo started.
“What do you want now?” Kenma asked, an amused look in his eyes.
“You’re gonna take me on a wheelchair tour of the pier. We can do it next week,” Kuroo said with a crooked smile, “I’ll be sitting where I belong- on your lap.”
“Oh, fuck no,” Kenma said, tapping his hands on the table.
“Bummer,” Kuroo said, stretching, “Looks like I’m coming with you to your appointment then.”
“Fine,” Kenma said, slowly gathering the cards and dealing them out once more, “If I win, you won’t come to any of my appointments for the next month without complaining. If you win, we take a tour down the pier. Best of three?”
“Best two out of three,” Kuroo confirmed, “It’s a good thing we had a warm-up round.”
They’d played Kings in the Corner to settle bets many times over the years and it was the same each time. Before and after play, they’d chat about life, joking and laughing, but when there was an active bet, the second play had started, there was utter silence.
“Get fucked,” Kuroo announced, playing his last card.
Kenma grumbled, tossing his cards on the table.
“So we’re tied,” Kenma said, “Sudden death.”
“Really adorable try,” Kuroo said, “But I’m not counting your win from before the bet was even created.”
Kenma snorted.
“Be that way,” he said, “But you have to shuffle if that’s the case.”
Kuroo good-naturedly shook his head and began to collect the cards.
“Did you see the library’s book sale ad?” he asked, setting out the deck.
Kenma nodded.
“We should go on Tuesday.”
Kenma stared blankly at his cards. He was unequivocally fucked. There was nothing he could do with them unless he had an insane stroke of luck.
“Mhm,” Kuroo said and then the silence overtook them once more.
Kenma lost, unsurprisingly, and even Kuroo had to admit he was dealt an absolutely terrible hand. He did feel bad for Kenma, but not nearly bad enough to count it as a scratch. He had a tour to look forward to.
“Kozume-san,” a nurse called from the door.
Kenma started wheeling towards her, Kuroo following behind, when she moved around him and grabbed the handles on his wheelchair.
“I’ve got him,” Kuroo said to the nurse, gently nudging her out of the way.
Kenma relaxed a little in his chair. He hated anyone else touching it. Kuroo was the one exception.
Once the nurse had gotten Kenma checked in and ready for the doctor, he reiterated his guidelines.
“You’re just gonna sit and listen. Okay?” Kenma asked.
He really didn’t want his loudmouth husband derailing his appointment. It, of course, would be out of love, but still, it was something he wanted to avoid.
“Yes. I will be a passive observer,” Kuroo said, tucking his long legs under the chair, “Can I-“
“You may not take notes.”
Kuroo laughed.
“Okay, fine,” he said, leaning far enough forward to pat his husband on the knee, “I shall be invisible.”
“Thank god.”
“Shut up,” Kuroo said as the door opened and two women walked in.
“Hello,” the first one said, nodding at the woman beside her, “This is my student. She’s shadowing me today. Do you mind having her be in here?”
“Fine with me,” Kenma said.
“I’m his husband,” Kuroo said. Kenma shot him a look, which he found unfair. That hardly counted as talking.
“Okay, so you want to start a different medication?” she asked, “That’s what we talked about last week, yeah?”
Kenma nodded.
“I’d really like to give it a go,” he said, “I looked it up and I think the benefits will outweigh the side effects-“
“What side effects?” Kuroo asked, his eyebrows bunched in concern, “Kenma, I don’t know about-“
“Appointment guests should be seen and not heard,” Kenma said, staring him down.
His doctor seemed highly uncomfortable, but just continued on.
“Your physical therapist is really happy with the progress you’re making,” she said, “I know you want to start medication, but with the progress you're making, I think it might make sense to continue on that route.”
“I appreciate the suggestion,” he said, “I actually have an acquaintance who is a retired PT and he suggested it might help me to do both.”
She nodded.
“Of course. Both is certainly an option. I wasn’t going to suggest stopping PT, just putting off the medication,” she said, “We talked over the pros and cons last week. Can you tell me what they are?”
“I have to self administer with a shot and if I do it I need to make sure I’m doing it every day,” he said, “Plus, it’s an immunosuppressant which has all of those things along with it. Side effects are rare, but swelling and redness at injection sight are normal.”
“Yes. Good,” she said, “Most common side effect is digestive issues, so call us if you’re struggling with that. If you want to do this, we’ll show you how to do the injection-“
“Okay, wait,” Kuroo said, “Maybe you shouldn’t-“
“What did I just say about appointment guests?” Kenma asked, folding his hands in his lap.
“Seen and not heard,” he said, sinking back into his chair.
“That’s right,” Kenma said, looking back to his doctor, “Go on.”
“We will want to see you in two weeks to monitor your progress,” she said, “We’re gonna send you a bit of homework to do to track your pain and side effects so we can make sure it’s working for you.”
“Perfect,” he said.
“Do you have any questions?” she asked.
“No, but you better show him how to do it or he’s gonna pitch a fit,” Kenma said, nodding at his husband. Kuroo smiled and got up to stand at his husband’s side.
“Would you like to show them?” the doctor asked her student. The student nodded and walked over.
“Along with your homework, we’re going to give you a sheet to track your injection sites,” she said, “There are a few different subcutaneous places you can use for this and you want to rotate through them.”
They nodded.
“Is there like a way to mess this up?” Kuroo asked, nervously.
“Sure, but there’s a way to mess anything up,” she said with a warm smile, “But we’re going to go over it now until you both understand, give you a pack of instructions, and you can also easily look it up. Does that sound good?”
“It does,” Kuroo said, squeezing Kenma’s shoulder.
“So first, you should remove any clothing fr-“
“Oh, absolutely I will.”
Kenma elbowed him.
Kenma forced Kuroo to look up the weight limit for his chair before he allowed him to take his seat in Kenma’s lap. It had been quite a bit since they’d done that.
Their tour of the pier was off to a decent start, Kenma pushing them along and littering sarcastic commentary along the way.
“You’re bony,” Kenma complained, smacking him in the arm.
“Oh, honey, it’s not my fault you’re hogging all of the ass in this relationship.”
“You’re my least favorite person in the world, you know that?” Kenma asked, giving his arms a rest.
“Hey, you guys,” Kuroo said, getting the attention of some passerby. He grabbed Kenma’s hand and held it up, his wedding band glinting in the sun, “I’m his least favorite person in the world.”
“Go gays!” one of them said.
“Go gays, indeed,” Kuroo said, nodding.
Kenma poked him in the sides, drawing a small laugh out of him. He then placed a quick kiss on his back before continuing on.
“Remember the first time we were here?” Kenma asked, his breath against Kuroo’s neck.
Kuroo nodded.
“Feels like forever ago,” he said, “What were we? Like twenty?”
“Something like that,” Kenma said, “You were prettier back then.”
“You weren’t.”
“First of all, rude,” Kenma huffed.
“It’s because you only get prettier,” Kuroo defended, “I mean goddamn, look at you.”
“Shut up,” Kenma mumbled, blushing.
Kuroo began to notice that the breathing behind him got quicker and more uneven.
“Now, I’m not here for this geezer ass ride,” Kuroo said, despite himself, “I’m putting us into overdrive.”
He smacked Kenma’s hands away from the wheels and grabbed them himself, pulling them as fast as he could. The way Kenma laughed, the tiniest of giggles, made Kuroo swoon.
He stopped the chair and got up, standing in front of Kenma. He made a show of stretching his muscles and Kenma shot him an amused look, wondering what he was up to.
“You’re gonna lose a hip,” Kenma pointed out.
“Not like you’re one to talk,” Kuroo responded, patronizingly patting him on the head.
With no warning, he made his way behind the wheelchair, grabbed onto the handles, and started sprinting as quickly as his old bones would let him, which admittedly, wasn’t terribly fast.
Kenma cackled with glee, a noise Kuroo hadn’t heard for quite a long time. He saw people taking a video of them, but he didn’t care. He only cared about Kenma and the way his shoulders were shaking with laughter.