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Tetsurou had many different stories for when he had fallen in love with Kei.
One day, Bokuto asked, “How did you know you were in love with Tsukki?”
Tetsurou made up the answer easily;
“When he showed up at my house unannounced after exam season. He had exams, too, he was in third year. I told him I'd been insanely stressed and was sure I was going to fail half my subjects, I was trying really hard not to cry, and he noticed. He took the train, showed up at my house just before midnight with a slice of my favorite chocolate cake, and it hit me.”
Bokuto aww-ed and hugged him, tears in his eyes and babbling about how Tsukki is only sweet with you!
When his favorite aunt asked, “Are you sure, honey? Are you sure he's the one?” with nothing but pure love and concern in her voice, he said, “We went to a pet café once, and he insisted he had to pet each and every bunny or the others would be sad. I think he would have been sad. Something clicked, then.”
When Akiteru said, “If you hurt my brother, I will kill you so slowly and painfully, you'll wish you were never born.” Tetsurou shuddered and promised him, “I would never. I love him. I've loved him since the moment I saw him pull out a Sudoku book to keep himself entertained while we waited in line for a midnight game release Kenma begged us to go to. It was so stupidly endearing, so stupidly Kei... I couldn't help but fall in love.”
None of those stories were lies, really. He had fallen a little deeper with every silly, sweet moment.
The actual truth came out when Kei asked. They were in bed, after a fantastic fuck. Kei was leaning his head back, resting it on top of the headboard—he was so fucking tall—smoking his cigarette with one hand, and holding a small book with the other. He looked beautiful, like he had just stepped out of a French movie, the kind that won awards. Tetsurou could see the scene in front of him play out in black and white, half expecting Kei to start calling him ‘mon amour’ and ‘mon chéri’ when he breathed out a cloud of smoke and closed his book. The hand with the cigarette made its way back to his lips, but just hovered, a mere centimeter away. He knew Kei's thinking face, the pursed lips and furrowed brows.
“What are you thinking about?” He asked, a small smile on his lips, eyes roaming about his boyfriend’s face.
Slowly, Kei moved his head to the side to lock eyes with Tetsurou and took a drag out of his cigarette. Everything was still in black and white.
“When did you know you were in love with me?” He asked, breathing out a last puff of smoke, and killing the cigarette on the ashtray he kept by his bedside. His eyes never left Tetsurou's, the action, putting out a cigarette while looking at Tetsurou, was performed often enough that he could do it without looking.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“We've been dating for 7 years and you've never asked before.”
“Yamaguchi is planning the proposal, and he's going to say something about how he figured out he was in love with Yachi. I just– forget it. It's stupid.” Kei shook his head and looked away.
“It isn't. Lots of people have asked me that, you know, how I knew I loved you.”
“Really?” Kei looked back at him, with a look that screamed embarrassment, one eyebrow raised and eyes a little wide. He had always hated talking about feelings, even with Tetsurou himself.
“Yeah. Bokuto, Akaashi, Kenma, my dad, Akiteru–”
“What the fuck, my brother? He never told me.”
“Doesn't matter,” Tetsurou grabbed one of Kei's hands, “Do you want to know or what?”
“I–” Kei bit his lip and cast his gaze down, looking at their hands. He intertwined their fingers, “Yeah, yeah, tell me.”
“It was, hm, when you were in third year and I stopped by the summer camp,” Tetsurou smiled at the memory. “I saw you teaching kids from all the schools how to block, all diligent and stern, but soft at the same time. Then you looked at me and smiled. I knew I was a goner right there and then.”
“We weren't even dating then.”
“No, we'd just been flirting for a while,” Tetsurou smirked. Kei swore up and down that their first kiss had caught him by surprise, but Tetsurou knew they'd been building up to it for months. “If I think really hard, it might have actually happened earlier,” he caught Kei's other hand in his, to stop the fidgeting. “What about you?”
“The day we beat Shiratorizawa and advanced to Nationals,” Kei said, too quickly to be a lie. Tetsurou felt his eyes widen in surprise and his smirk disappear to leave his lips in a shocked o. Kei took in his change in expression and chuckled. “My team won that match, and the only person I wanted to tell was you. I wanted to tell you,” he smiled, self-conscious and shy, “‘Hey Kuroo-san, it's not just a club, after all.’ and I wanted you to hug me and lift me up in the air and kiss me.”
Tetsurou felt his eyes get wet. That long? And he thought he'd jumped the gun. Kei wiped a tear away from his cheek.
“Are you okay, baby?”
“I just–” Tetsurou sobbed. He felt Kei's hands on his shoulders, and, suddenly, his face was pressed against Kei's shoulder, now slick and wet from Tetsurou's very random bout of crying. Kei never said things like these, never shared his feelings, never opened up—he bottled everything up, good and bad, until he exploded.
“It's okay,” Kei kissed the top of his head. “I have to say it more often,” he said—whispered almost—as if he'd read Tetsurou's mind.
Tetsurou lifted his head to look at his beloved boyfriend's eyes. Nothing was in black and white anymore. Everything was bathed in gold.
