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Sleep typically came easier to Kenma when Kuroo would stay over, a warm blanket of security that only existed when a tall boy with wicked hair was sleeping soundly within arms reach.
But this night however he laid awake, staring at the white wall in front of him, sleep slipping through his fingers like sand.
The moon shone brightly in the midnight sky, casting an otherworldly glow into Kenma’s room; a dark blue haze covering every surface. The spring air filled the space with the sweet smells of cherry blossoms and that peculiar scent that only existed during the middle of the night when most of the world slept– Kuroo liked to call it that midnight smell Kenma! You know the smell!
Everything Kenma needed to drift off into a serene sleep was here; an open window with a light breeze, a warm blanket in a chilly room, and the comforting presence of Kuroo sleeping behind him. Yet he found himself wide awake, listening closely to the steady breathing filling the silence.
Both boys lay snug in his full size bed, growing closer and closer as the years went on. Not once had they ever slept separately, and neither of them have ever made any indication that they would like to start. Even that very first night Kuroo had slept over, Kenma never attempted to bring out the extra futon and Kuroo said nothing as he slid into the open spot next to Kenma, the two falling asleep with their little hands intertwined.
Kuroo’s warm breath tickled the base of his neck, blowing around the little hairs there. Their bodies were merely inches apart, and every cell in Kenma’s body ached to move backwards; to fit himself flush against Kuroo and feel the warmth of his large frame wrap itself around Kenma.
He craved to feel Kuroo’s arm wrap around his waist to pull him close, but he was forced to settle for warm breath on the back of his neck. His skin on fire from where 3 fingers lay still on his back from where Kuroo had fallen asleep tracing the letters on Kenma’s shirt.
But Kuroo didn’t like him, that much was clear.
The same fingers resting on his back now were wrapped around a girl's waist last week, pulling her close under the stairs. Kenmas stomach twisted at the memory, a moment of hushed whispers and small smiles that he wasn’t meant to see and he’ll unfortunately never forget.
It burned bright in his mind, forcing itself to the forefront. How could he ever forget when it’s working so tirelessly to make him remember? Even now, days later and the girl a forgotten name, he remembers the sweet smells of the summer air and the slight breeze blowing his dark hair back.
“Kenma! W-where are you going?” Yaku had asked, stopping abruptly in front of him. He was inches shorter than Kenma, but his presence would always be known. Kenma had thought many times that you needed a certain kind of personality to be a libero, demanding to be seen.
Startled, Kenma looked to his upperclassmen to find his dark brown eyes blown wide. “Um, practice.”
Side stepping Yaku, he went to make his way to the club house when a small hand wrapped around his bicep, halting him. “Wait! I was going to see if you wanted to go to the vending machine. Dumb ass was supposed to go with me but he’s uh– busy.” The sandy haired boy fidgeted, eyes darting around as if he was searching for something. Or rather looking out for something. “I’ll even buy you an apple juice!”
Stiffening at the sudden contact, Kenma knitted his brows together. Yaku eyed his tight grip and let go immediately, he himself was shocked he had grabbed Kenma. “No thanks.” Kenma turned back to his PSP, and back towards his destination, confused at how weird Yaku was acting.
“Wait. Wait! Ke–”
A loud, familiar laugh cut off Yaku’s pleas. Kenma couldn’t stop the corners of his lips quirking up at the familiar song. He couldn’t help that his footsteps picked up speed along with his heart; anticipation to see the person at fault for the horrendous laugh Kenma would never admit he found endearing.
As the messy mop of black hair came into view, suddenly Yaku’s behavior made a lot more sense.
Kuroo’s back was to him, and he wasn’t alone.
Whatever tethered Kenmas heart to the center of his chest severed, plunging it straight to his stomach. With nothing to fill the space his chest constricted, threatening to cave. His feet cemented to the ground, his gaze stuck on the secret moment below the stairs.
Kenma knew that Kuroo had received confessions. He knew that Kuroo had kissed both boys and girls in his class and went on dates, but those were discussions never touched between the two. Relationships, kissing, feelings, those things were off limits for them.
Which is why Kenma felt his entire world crumbling when he saw Kuroo below the stairs, his large hand splayed on the hip of a pretty girl with long brown hair and amber eyes. His blood ran cold when Kuroo laughed again, and the girls eyes crinkled into a smile. His breathing stuttered when Kuroo’s other hand came up to rest on the girls cheek and he leaned closer, closer, until–
A hand gripped around Kenma’s wrist, yanking him backwards and out of the trance he was sinking deeper into.
“Let’s go.” Yaku grunted, his grip lightening but never letting go.
And this time when Yaku drug him away, Kenma let him.
Typically at this point he would have rolled over and pulled out his PSP, playing until his eyes drooped closed or the sun started coming up. Although this time Kenma selfishly couldn’t bring himself to pull the fingers from his back, so he squeezed his eyes tightly closed, willing himself to sleep.
“Kenma?”
His entire body went rigid like he’d been caught. As if Kuroo had slipped inside his mind and saw what Kenma had been thinking, wanting . He couldn’t bring himself to speak, so he laid silently, pretending to be asleep.
“You awake?” Kuroo whispered.
Again, Kenma stayed silent. He wasn’t entirely too sure why.
A few moments passed and he thought maybe Kuroo had gone back to sleep. It took everything in him not to tense as Kuroo’s fingers lifted from where they lay, and began tracing along his back. Delicately they moved, twirling and drawing as goosebumps pricked his pale skin.
They laced up his spine and to his neck, brushing lightly through his golden hair before drifting back down again. Slowly and gently they caressed his skin, running across his shoulder and ribs before stopping in the curve of his wait, his hand finding home there.
Squeezing his eyes tighter, he prayed to whatever gods were listening that Kuroo couldn’t hear the pounding in his chest. Fisting the sheets he fought against his stuttering breaths, trying to remain still.
“I wish I had guts like you and Tora argue about, then maybe I could just say it.” He whispered, “We never keep secrets from each other, so I wonder if you’d hate me for keeping one since we were kids.”
His voice was thick, enveloped with sadness.
Is this a dream? What the hell is happening?
Hate him? Didn’t Kuroo know by now there’s nothing he could say or do that would make Kenma hate him, nothing he could do to make Kenma leave? Couldn’t he see the way Kenma looked at him? Sometimes the agony in Kenma’s chest was so much he thought it would cave in– surely Kuroo would notice then.
Kuroo's voice shook as he continued, “Would you believe me if I said I’ve told you thousands of times? Every night we sleep like this, and even sometimes when you’re not paying attention I’ll say it behind your back, like a fucking coward.”
The air in his lungs grew sparse as his fists trembled from the tight grip on his sheets. Kuroo’s voice was so small , unlike anything he had ever heard before. Desperately he wanted to turn to him, to pull Kuroo into him and tell him anything he needed to hear to make his voice return to normal; make him sound like Kuroo again.
But Kenma kept forward feigning sleep, listening close to his friend's midnight confession.
When Kuroo spoke again his voice gave a heartbreaking crack, the hand on Kenma’s waist tightening, “Why am I so afraid to tell you I’m in love with you?”
Kenma’s entire world came to a screeching halt.
What?
Before his mind could catch up, his lips were moving on their own accord, “What did you just say?”
For a brief moment, time and the world around them stopped moving. The cicadas outside quieted, the breeze drifting in had calmed and the hand that gripped his side stilled. Neither boy dared to breathe or move a muscle.
When the world began to spin once more, it felt like everything was moving too quickly. His mind couldn’t keep up with the sudden chill from where a warm hand had ripped away or how the mattress abruptly shifted as Kuroo backed away, frantically gathering his things.
Head spinning, Kenma tried to listen to Kuroo’s distraught apologies but he couldn’t think . None of this made any sense, love was seeping out of Kuroo, but none of it was reserved for Kenma.
Right?
“Why am I so afraid to tell you I’m in love with you?”
Kenma watched as Kuroo tugged on his jacket and slung his unzipped bag over his shoulder. Glossy, hazel eyes shone bright in the moonlight, looking anywhere but to him. “I’m sorry Kenma, I’m so sorry.” His breathing was erratic and even in the darkness Kenma could see the tremble of his hands, “I shouldn’t have touched you I shouldn’t have said-”
“Kuro.” Kenma moved to the edge of the bed, his heart beat dizzyingly fast.
“-you were sleeping. Well, I thought you were but-”
“Kuroo.”
“-wrong. I should have kept it to my-”
“ Tetsurou.”
Without a second thought, Kenma was up and across the room, clutching Kuroo’s shaking hands within his own. But it wasn’t just his hands, his whole body was trembling. Kenma’s chest tightened painfully, “Breathe Kuro.”
Not daring to let go, he breathed in and out, holding Kuroo’s gaze; a silent command to mimic him. Together they let their hammering hearts settle, finding solace within each other despite it all. Relishing in the warmth from their interlaced hands, the two let the familiar soft skin and calloused fingertips ground them.
“I’m sorry.” Kuroo breathed.
Looking up at his best friend, Kenma wondered how something so beautiful could look so incredibly sad. He thought if he had to choose, Kuroo’s eyes might be the most captivating thing about him. It wasn’t just the striking watercolors of golds and greys that awed him, it was the raw emotion that swirled within. No matter the face Kuroo wore, his eyes would always betray him.
Within them now was agony.
Kenma knew the feeling all too well.
“Please,” His voice was raw and shaky, “please say something.”
Kuroo was breaking before him, and Kenma cursed himself for the loss of words. Always resilient and knowing the right words to say, that was Kuroo . Kenma was blunt and rarely held back; comforting was the last word most anyone would use when describing him.
In front of him Kuroo stood with a clenched jaw and glossy eyes that helplessly searched Kenma’s face for answers. His ridiculous and incredibly endearing spiked hair was tousled a bit more than usual from laying in bed, the sight making Kenma’s heart swell. It was so much. It was too much .
Kuroo confessed . So why wasn’t Kenma jumping for joy? Why was dread bubbling in his gut like an unwanted sickness?
“You’re so stupid sometimes.” Kenma sighed.
Taking a step backwards he let their hands slip apart and began pulling on his fingers, bangs covering his field of vision. Silently he sent up a thank you for the darkness surrounding them, he wasn’t sure if he could handle vulnerability like this in the light of day. He could barely form the words on his tongue with Kuroo’s waiting glance boring into him.
“Why?”
Kuroo blinked once, “Why what?”
“Why everything? Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you accept confessions and go on dates and kiss girls behind the gym?” Kenma couldn’t hold back the bite in his words, the memory still a fresh wound unattended. Kenma was learning the hard way that just because you ignore the pain, doesn’t mean it’ll go away.
In a far off land, Kenma had planted his feelings for Kuroo. He buried them deep in frozen soil where the sun never shined hoping that maybe they would die and wither away. But Kuroo was sunlight and happiness in the form of a young boy with unruly hair, and despite all of Kenma’s best efforts, the sunlight reached deep into the frozen tundra.
It made everything hurt so much more. With Kuroo’s confession, Kenma’s now forced to face everything he's gone to such extreme lengths to avoid. It started with the girl under the stairs, and facing him now was his heart and soul. Kuroo bore himself to Kenma, but it just didn’t make any sense.
He knew the questions were unfair, but years of yearning and suffering in silence earned him the right to ask at least once. He watched Kuroo love everyone else but him, and he wanted to know why.
Kuroo’s jaw hardened, “Why do you think, Kenma?” His words lacked the harshness Kenma knew he wanted to convey. Yet they still stung despite it, causing Kenma to wince.
“That’s not good enough Kuro.” Iciness coated Kenma’s voice, at odds with the sweltering heat brewing beneath his skin.
“Kenma,” Kuroo’s voice was gritty and anguished, twisting Kenma’s insides. “Hearing you decline a confession would’ve ruined me. Those– those people they were… an outlet? I guess? If I couldn’t have you then I need to have something. Even if that something meant nothing to me, a-and even if it did nothing to help the hurt I needed… I… I feel so much and I don’t know what to do with it.” His face contorted, and Kenma knew he was pleading– begging him to understand.
“So you kiss strangers behind the gym and pretend to love people you can never see a future with.” The whispered words were tender despite the truth of them, and finally Kenma seemed to understand.
He couldn’t argue because truthfully, isn’t that why he had held it in all these years? Afraid to lose the person that meant the most to him because he couldn’t control his wretched heart.
And who is he to tell Kuroo how to deal with the grief in his heart? If kissing strangers and pretending was what got him through the day, who the hell was Kenma to tell him not to?
Wasn’t Kenma pretending too?
Wracking a shaky sigh before sinking back onto his bed, Kenma pulled his knees to his chest. He patted the spot next to him as a peace offering and Kuroo followed suit, leaving more room between them than he ever normally would.
Picking at the lint on his sheets Kenma waited for a reply he knew wasn’t going to come. He watched Kuroo from his peripheral, his nervous ticks evident from the shaking bed and his restless leg; his fingers getting caught in the tangles of his bed head as he nervously raked through it.
It was Kenma’s turn to speak, Kuroo put his heart on the line, now it was his turn.
And if his best friend has taught him anything tonight, it’s that some things you can only admit in the comfort of darkness.
“I don’t… think I ever told you this, but I heard you… that day. Um, talking to my dad I mean.” He took a long, steadying breath. Calm down. “You told him… that when I like something, I put everything, my soul or whatever, into it. And back then I thought you were being so dramatic and embarrassing, but I think… I think you might have been right.”
Although Kenma had gone back up to his room after Kuroo’s heartfelt speech, scoffing at the absurdity, he couldn’t help the warmth that grew in his chest. The feeling of being seen was so foreign to him, he didn’t quite understand why he felt like laughing and crying. It felt like he was stripped of his body, his soul laying out on the line for Kuroo to see and examine.
Kuroo had a way of making someone feel vulnerable by seeing straight through them and directly at who they truly were at their core. But without fail, he always proceeded to handle them with care. A delicacy he hadn’t learned from any family member, it was just Kuroo .
Swallowing, Kenma continued on, “You asked me to play volleyball that day, so I did. You asked me to become your setter, so I did .” he squeezed his lids tightly closed, “You’re the person I look for in a crowded room. I make comments I know you’ll find funny just so I can hear your stupid laugh I pretend to hate. I wait to play a new game because I know you like to open the package and look at the shiny CD. I know you like the color yellow, but not yellow yellow–gold yellow. I go to science museums I don’t understand for you. I know-” he cut himself off, balling his hands into fists.
“Kenma…”
Never did Kenma expect to actually have this conversation and now that he was living it, he wanted nothing more than to run and hide. He felt his breathing grow more erratic but the memories and emotions were bubbling out of him now and Kenma didn’t think he could put a lid on it if he tried.
“So,” Eyes stinging, he pushed through, “I think of those things and I sometimes get so angry because how could you not see? You said it yourself that I put my soul into the things I love so how could you not see me putting my soul into you ?” Voice cracking, the tears he’d been keeping at bay finally falling.
It’s more words than Kenma thought he was ever capable of saying. Unable to meet Kuroo’s eye, Kenma focused on his adam's apple bobbing up and down. A moment passed, then another, and Kenma thought that maybe he had said too much. Maybe there's a difference between being in love with someone and putting your soul into them. Perhaps there was a line he crossed unknowingly, and Kuroo would back away. Just as Kenma’s hands began to tremble, Kuroo spoke at last.
“I need you to say it, Kenma.” His voice was thick, tugging at Kenma’s delicate heart.
“Still?” Kenma choked out a small laugh. Lifting his eyes he saw the tears on his own cheeks mirrored the ones falling down Kuroo’s and knew yes, still. Please.
A small sob ripped itself out of Kenma’s throat, and in the tiniest voice he murmured, “I love you, I always have.”
Calloused hands cupped his face before he even finished speaking, forcing him to meet Kuroo’s dazed stare. Hazel eyes searched his, looking at Kenma as if he hung the stars in the sky before Kuroo’s soft lips pressed into his forehead. He sank into Kuroo’s embrace, burying his head beneath his chin. Sobs choked out of him and distantly he could hear Kuroo's soothing voice.
“I love you I love you I love you"
As the cries subsided, Kenma wrapped himself around Kuroo. This stupid, loving boy loved him back . The thought made his steadying heart pick up pace, a jittery feeling vibrating just below the skin he couldn’t shake. This is real .
Dark blue painted across Kuroo’s sharp features, the wetness of his cheeks reflecting the moonlight. He looked tragic, yet so achingly beautiful, and as hazel met gold there on Kenma’s full sized mattress, during some ungodly hour of the night, he swore he would love Kuroo until his very last day. When his time comes, he hopes that it’s Kuroo’s laughter that welcomes him through those white gates, a messy head of hair just on the other side.
The two sat there for what could have been minutes or hours, taking each other in, feeling the shift in their relationship and letting their hearts and minds adjust. They would never be the same after this night, and instead of the terror they had expected to feel, it was rightness that settled on their shoulders. Their hearts and souls slotted together like missing pieces from an age old puzzle, intertwining and lacing together like they’re meant to spend an eternity with each other.
Kuroo’s hand grazed the underside of Kenmas jaw, sending shivers down his spine. “Can I kiss you?” He asked.
To answer Kuroo’s question Kenma merely lifted his pointed chin, pressing his lips to the silken ones he’s spent years yearning for. He kissed Kuroo for every missed confession, for every time he looked at the boy he’s loved more than half his life and wanted to scream I love you .
They kissed as if they were making up for lost time and then some. Delicate, yet a sense of urgency hidden below like they were both terrified they would wake up in the morning to find it was nothing but a dream.
Eventually the two made their way back up to the bed, clinging onto one another. Steady breathing filled the room once more as fingers traced along Kenma’s back, his cheek pressed into Kuroo’s broad chest. The steady beat of his heart lulled Kenma further into sleepiness.
Everything Kenma needed to drift off into a serene sleep was here; an open window with a light breeze, a warm blanket in a chilly room, and soothing arms wrapped tightly around him.
So finally, in the comfort of darkness and Kuroo’s embrace, sleep took Kenma at last.