Work Text:
Tetsurou brings it up over dinner.
Kenma has just finished his meal and is making eyes at the dessert, which is still in the kitchen but very much visible through the open doorway, when Tetsurou decides to abandon his own meal to speak.
“So Kenken, remember that work meeting I had today?”
Kenma is still mostly focused on dessert. “What?” he says.
“The work meeting,” Tetsurou says. Kenma vaguely remembers him mentioning a work meeting. He’s not sure what that has to do with anything, much less why it would make Kuroo draw his attention away from the chocolate muffins in the kitchen.
“What about it?” he asks.
“We had this incredible idea that we should do a collab. You know, you featuring volleyball on your channel could help you reach a whole different demographic of possible fans, and having promotional material on a YouTube channel of your size would be great for us.”
Kenma turns to stare at Tetsurou. “Repeat that,” he says, slowly. “You want to collab?”
“Yes!”
“Let me rephrase that. You want me to willingly show another facet of myself on the internet, thus arming my insufferable fans with more information?”
“I want you to get more fans?” Tetsurou offers, grinning at him like he’s had a glorious idea and not one of the worst ones Kenma has ever heard.
“I can’t keep up with the ones I already have. Why the fuck would I want to get more fans?” Kenma says, with what he feels is an appropriate amount of heavy scepticism in his voice.
“Because you love me?” Tetsurou says, entirely untouched by it.
Kenma sighs. Heavily. He looks at his husband: his husband, who makes him breakfast and dinner and little lunch boxes, who stayed up late to quiz Kenma when he was still in university and studying for his exams, who massages his tense shoulders without Kenma having to ask, who once drove seven hours to pre-order a limited edition figurine that unlocked a new character in one of Kenma’s favourite games.
His husband, who he regrettably loves very much.
Keiji would call him weak. Keiji is never going to let him live this down if he finds out. Taketora will probably think it’s really sweet, and then make all kinds of comments about how he could’ve done even better on the collaboration and showing his affection, or something. He always sees so much room for improvement in Kenma that would require ungodly amounts of effort.
“Ugh, fine,” he says. “But not if it involves too much effort.”
“I would never do that to you, my dearest kitten,” Tetsurou says, and blows him a kiss. Kenma is already staring longingly at the dessert in the kitchen again.
───── 🏐 ─────
Tetsurou, it turns out, is a horrible human being and a liar. This isn’t exactly news. He just happens to be good at fooling Kenma with things like making him tasty dessert and then waiting for the perfect moment to ruin Kenma’s lovely week by letting him know that when he said collab, he didn’t just mean one single tiny video.
What he thought of, apparently, were several videos and perhaps a couple of live-streams.
They end up settling on five: five videos that Kenma will post over the space of a week, and then one live-stream at the end of it, as the culmination.
“This is going to be great marketing for you, too,” Tetsurou insists.
“This is going to be so much effort,” Kenma laments. He would have threatened Tetsurou with having to sleep on the couch, but they both know full-well that Kenma sleeps just as badly on his own as Tetsurou does; they’ve both become way too used to the other’s presence.
“You’ll be glad we did this when we’re done,” Tetsurou says, “trust me, kitten,” and then he presses a very soft kiss to Kenma’s forehead. Kenma doesn’t even make an attempt of pretending that he doesn’t melt into it; he does. He cherishes Tetsurou’s touch, the easy intimacy they’ve won over decades of intertwining their lives. He loves how unselfconsciously Tetsurou gives him little kisses; how much it is second nature to them at this point.
And then Kenma realises, still swaying into Tetsurou’s touch, tension unwinding at the feeling of him so close, fuck. This is going to be an issue.
───── 🏐 ─────
The thing is that Kenma likes to keep his private life private. He doesn’t like it when his fans know things about him; it makes him feel vulnerable and uncomfortable. And the last thing he wants for anyone to make a big deal out of is his relationship.
He also, perhaps, to a certain degree, simply likes keeping Tetsurou to himself. Tetsurou is his; all his little touches, all his easy affection, all his thoughtful gestures: they belong to Kenma, not people around the world speculating at what sort of man Tetsurou is.
The thing also is that they’re horrible at keeping their relationship a secret. Well, mostly Tetsurou is.
“I’m sure this’ll be doable,” Tetsurou says, but he sounds doubtful himself.
“If you can keep your hands to yourself, maybe,” Kenma says.
“It’s not just me!” Tetsurou protests.
Kenma shoots him a meaningful look. “You’re holding me while we’re having this conversation,” he says, because Tetsurou is: his arms slung around Kenma’s waist, his thumb drawing soft circles on Kenma’s hip.
“You’re the one who climbed into my lap,” Tetsurou says.
“Well,” Kenma says. Testurou might have a point there.
So perhaps they’re both terrible at keeping their relationship secret. That doesn’t make it better.
“We can just edit the obvious bits out?”
“There’ll be nothing left to post,” Kenma says. “And either way, you wanted to do a livestream as a culmination. It’s already signed off on!”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Tetsurou says, but he looks and sounds like he himself doesn’t truly believe what he’s saying.
───── 🏐 ─────
The first video is a simple one; it’s the one closest to home for Kenma, because they film themselves playing a video game together. To be exact, they play the video game Volleyball.
It seems like an easy and obvious way to start, and Playing Volleyball (The Video Game) Against A Former Volleyball Player is not the worst possible video title.
Kenma already knows that the video will get a stupidly high amount of views; the videos in which he has a guest always do, perhaps because there are so few of them. Which is to say: he’s had a guest in his videos exactly three times during the existence of his channel. His fans are going to be delighted to see him interact with another human being; he’s bound to get loads of comments of the ‘Kodzuken being sociable? Perhaps the world IS ending!’ variety.
It’s fine.
“This is Kuroo, and he’s unreasonably excited about volleyball,” Kenma introduces Tetsurou, who’s grinning and waving, to the camera. “And today, I’m going to absolutely demolish him at volleyball. The video game.”
“You’re going to do no such thing,” Tetsurou says, still grinning. “My love for volleyball will guide me, just you’ll see.”
“No it won’t,” Kenma says. “Although I like to see the unjustified confidence, it’ll make your defeat all the more crushing.”
“Yes it will, kitten,” Tetsurou says, in a tone of voice that Kenma knows all too well; almost reflexively, he rolls his eyes and tilts his face towards Tetsurou, who gives him a small peck.
“I’ll demolish you,” he says, properly tilting his upper body towards Tetsurou next to him, one of his hands coming up to rest on Tetsurou’s pecs, and then he stops, realising what he’s doing, and groans.
“Fuck you, Kuro,” he says, grumpily, “I’m going to have to edit all of that out!”
“How is that my fault!” Tetsurou says, indignantly.
“You kissed me!”
“Well, you gave me your kiss-me face!”
“Only because you used your I-want-to-kiss-you voice!” Kenma protests, and then realises that they’re not going to get anywhere like this, and he’s going to have to edit all of that out, too.
And he can’t even get someone else to edit the footage; no way in hell is he letting another person lay eyes on this.
“This is going to be a disaster,” he says.
They do eventually manage to film an entire video, and it only takes them seven hours; which, seeing as Kenma will only actually post under thirty minutes of that footage, is going to be an utter headache to sift through.
“You have the worst ideas,” Kenma accuses Tetsurou later that night, after he’s given the first hour of footage a look; the statement is, perhaps, softened by the fact that he’s curled up in Tetsurou’s arms.
“Well, now that we’ve made a beginning, how much worse can the rest possibly be,” Tetsurou says, which isn’t a very comforting thing to say at all, because all it tells Kenma is that he has married a horrible optimist.
That doesn’t stop him from kissing said horrible optimist, but he keeps his annoyed scowl for at least the first five seconds, just to make a point.
───── 🏐 ─────
The second video is Tetsurou and Kenma recreating famous attention-winning volleyball moves and moments from the past years; Tetsurou had the gall of saying that they should structure them by difficulty, since there were easier ones, like Miya’s insane serves and Komori’s insane saves, and harder ones, like Sakusa’s freaky wrist-spike, Ushijima’s left-handed spike, Hoshiumi’s entire thing, and Kageyama’s frighteningly precise setting.
Nothing about Miya Atsumu’s serves or Komori Motoya’s saves is easy, and Kenma would say he wants a divorce, only he doesn’t want to edit that out, and he doesn’t even like to think about it, because the thought of Tetsurou leaving him feels, despite his conviction to the absolute impossibility of it, way too horrifying to even joke about.
They start with some stretching to warm up; Kenma makes a few obligatory comments about Tetsurou being back just to annoy Kenma, and about how much he does not want to be physically active.
“Believe it or not,” Tetsurou says, stretching forwards and touching his toes with ease, “Kenken here actually used to enjoy playing volleyball in school.”
“Don’t call me that on camera,” Kenma says.
“What would you rather I call you? Kitten? Baby? Grumpy cat? Love of my life? My cherry bomb?”
“I have a name,” Kenma says, hoping that the world at large never finds out how stupidly warm it makes him feel when Tetsurou calls him his little apple pie. He’ll take that one to the grave with him; the teasing, if Keiji ever found out, would not be survivable; and he does not want to think about the teasing his fans might get up to.
“I think Kenken is pretty close to Kenma,” Tetsurou says.
“My fan base doesn’t need to know we’re on a friendly enough basis for nicknames,” Kenma says, then loses his train of thought, because Tetsurou has stretched in a way that makes his shirt ride up; Kenma wants to lick the sliver of exposed stomach.
“Baby,” Tetsurou says, very affectionately, “I think if your fan base thinks we’re only friendly, we’re getting off lightly,” which is what Kenma said two days ago, and all of this is Tetsurou’s fault anyway, and the fact that Kenma has to film a video right now instead of jumping his husband is making him unreasonably mad, so he drags his eyes up from Tetsurou’s stomach to glare at him.
“This is your fault,” he says, and tilts his head up in what he perfectly well knows is an invitation; they end up filming the rest of the video two hours later, and Kenma only hopes the difference in lighting won’t be too noticeable in the video.
───── 🏐 ─────
They do volleyball tourism for the third video.
“Your fans will be delighted,” Tetsurou says, “seeing you outside of the house for once!” which is sadly correct – Kenma’s fans will be feeding off of this for months – and Tetsurou would know, seeing as he watches all of Kenma’s videos.
“We were outside yesterday,” Kenma points out, just to be contrary.
“But for this they’re getting an actual travel vlog!” Tetsurou says, grinning from ear to ear.
“Why are you this excited?” Kenma grumbles. “You get to see me outside all the time.”
“You look really pretty in direct sunlight,” Tetsurou says, shamelessly, and Kenma is going to have to edit all of this out anyway, so there is no harm in pressing a quick kiss to his husband’s shoulder with hot cheeks.
What they don’t edit out is Tetsurou’s cooing over the local volleyball stadium – “you’ve seen this a hundred times,” Kenma complains, and then realises it gives away way too much about how close they are, only to decide he’ll leave it in anyway because someone should call Tetsurou out, and either way Tetsurou just puts his hands on him to steer him every two seconds so most likely there isn’t enough editing in the world to make them seem like anything less than very close friends at this point – and Tetsurou cooing over the hotel room the Japanese National Team stayed at, and Kenma making snide comments over the Argentinian national team’s setter’s favourite ramen place in Tokyo, because it’s definitely not the best ramen place in Tokyo, and also because Oikawa did something close to flirting with Tetsurou the last time they met and Kenma is still bitter about it, even knowing that Tetsurou isn’t interested and Oikawa is taken himself; this is about respect between setters.
“My fans are going to know so much about my past,” Kenma says, dismayed, after Tetsurou goes on a rant about a volleyball game they played in high school, which he’ll probably keep in because it makes for good content.
“Not the really important things,” Tetsurou says.
“It seems like you’re hell-bent on telling them everything,” Kenma complains grumpily.
“No words could ever do the way you looked at me when you first told me you loved me justice, and there is no memory more important than that one,” Tetsurou replies, which is a horribly sappy thing to say.
“You’re disgusting,” Kenma tells Tetsurou, and it’s really, really unfortunate that his favourite memory is that Tetsurou teared up then the exact same way he did six years later on their wedding day, so he has to turn the camera off again at this point.
───── 🏐 ─────
After that, they opt for something more relaxed again, that nevertheless brings out both of their competitive spirits: a fast-paced sports-themed quiz game.
“I will beat you so hard,” Tetsurou says, “just you wait. This is going to be my revenge for the video game.”
“Big words for someone who loses to me at least once a week,” Kenma responds. He’s quite fond of the way Tetsurou still, after several years of marriage and well over two decades of being in Kenma’s life, seems incapable of beating him at video games; although he does sometimes beat him at card or board games. Kenma likes to ignore that.
“If I remember correctly, I absolutely demolished you at uno the other day,” Tetsurou says.
“That’s a sheer game of luck,” Kenma says, “it doesn’t count. Now come on, or are you trying to stall because you’re scared?”
“You fucking wish,” Tetsurou says, and starts shuffling the quiz cards. Their legs are pressed together under the table.
───── 🏐 ─────
If Kenma had to make a list of the things he least wants to put on the internet, for his fans and the entire world to see, then it would be, in order of importance:
- his address,
- information about his family, very much including his husband,
- himself being affectionate with said husband,
- himself, sweatily being physically active.
Which doesn’t explain at all how he is yet again filming a video of himself and his husband being physically active.
At least it’s their last video; their last video before the livestream, that is.
The livestream that Kenma is decidedly trying not to think about, lest he become concerned. They have another week until it’s time, anyway, because the first of the videos they’ve filmed won’t go up until the coming Monday.
This last video is relatively straight-forward: just a friendly game of volleyball. At least it’s not only the two of them this time; they’ve invited some friends to have a proper match.
“A fun fact about Kenken,” Tetsurou says to one of the cameras, grinning, “is that many of his school friends are professional volleyball players now.”
“A fun fact about Kodzuken,” Kenma says, grumpily, “is that he’ll kick your ass for calling him Kenken, Kuroo.”
“Aww, is that so, kitten?” Tetsurou asks, and the way his eyes sparkle tells Kenma he’s seconds away from making a kissy face at him.
“We had a conversation about nicknames,” Kenma says.
“I don’t remember agreeing to not using them,” Tetsurou says, a smug grin on his horribly smug face. Unfortunately, Kenma finds it kind of hot when he’s being a dick. It’s a personal failing of his that he’s working on.
“You are a horrible man,” Kenma says. “Horrible, horrible.” He takes a step towards Tetsurou, grabbing his shirt, and then he remembers the cameras pointed at them, and, more importantly, the fact that they’re in public and those cameras are being held by hired camera men.
He lets go of Tetsurou and takes a step back.
“Are you done flirting? Can we warm up?” Yaku shouts from across the pitch.
“I’d never flirt with this asshole,” Kenma shouts back, turning away from Tetsurou, who is still looking way too smug. The nearest camera man is watching them with raised eyebrows.
“Horrible man,” Kenma grumbles under his breath.
───── 🏐 ─────
Editing, something Kenma usually likes to leave at least partially to a hired editor, continues to be a pain.
Mostly because he’s doing all of it himself this time, probably; there is just so much incriminating stuff to cut out that he wouldn’t want to trust someone else with, and so he ends up spending several nights up, hunched in front of his desktop, glaring at his computer screen.
On Sunday evening, he has every video except for the last one, the volleyball game that’s scheduled to go up on Friday, done. At least he’s in the home stretch, or so he tells himself; but the last one is definitely causing him a headache.
“You’ve been at this the entire day, baby,” Tetsurou says, handing him a matcha latte and dropping a kiss to his forehead. Kenma sighs and leans towards Tetsurou, and Tetsurou winds one arm around him and starts petting his hair with the other. Tetsurou’s chest is nice and sturdy, and the latte is warm in Kenma’s hands.
“This is your fault,” Kenma grumbles. It’s not really Tetsurou’s fault, but it also definitely is.
“Didn’t you say the game would be easiest to edit?”
Kenma did say that. Kenma believed that. They played on opposite teams, and so mostly stopped flirting once their competitiveness set in, and there were so many other people around they interacted with, people they’ve known for years and are generally affectionate with: that should’ve dialled down hard on how incriminating Kenma and Tetsurou could possibly behave. Or so he’d thought.
“Watch this,” Kenma says, lifting his head from Tetsurou’s pecs. He hits play.
On the screen, Morisuke is receiving a ball like a boss, and it bounces off his forearms and towards Kenma, who sets with the ease of someone who played volleyball for years and whose body has internalised the movement into muscle memory. Shouyou jumps, stupidly high for his little body, the way he always does, and spikes. They’re all focused, sweaty, Shouyou’s face pinched in concentration: a normal volleyball game.
On the other side of the net Tetsurou jumps. Nothing incriminating about that, either. Only the camera not only catches the effortless stretching of his tall body, his bunching arm-muscles, and smug grin as he blocks the ball; it also catches the look on Kenma’s face, the way he watches Tetsurou, the slant to his mouth, the emotion in his eyes, the way his entire body is focused on this person, rather than the ball, for just a moment. It’s simple enough to be screamingly obvious: the sincerity of that focus in every fibre of his being.
Kenma pauses the video.
“Well,” Tetsurou says, and swallows. “What about the footage from the other two cameras?”
“This,” Kenma says, “is an issue throughout the entirety of the footage, from three different cameras. And it’s not just me, either. I can’t edit this down to something – else.” He huffs, frustrated.
“The other people are making it worse,” he adds. He doesn’t have to elaborate on it for Tetsurou to understand: that instead of making his interactions with Tetsurou look more normal by showing his bantering with Yaku, his quiet affection with Shouyou, his respect for Tobio – well. There is all of that in the footage, and then also the clear, undeniable truth that he and Tetsurou treat each other entirely differently than they do everyone else.
And he’s not sure how much of that he can explain away with the argument of childhood friends, not when he’s also known everyone else in that video for over a decade at this point.
“I’m sorry this is stressful to you,” Tetsurou says, and Kenma takes a disgruntled sip from his matcha latte, which is really good, and tries to ignore the warm fluttering in his chest; because Tetsurou sounds apologetic, but he also sounds possessively proud and affectionate, the dick.
Kenma puts his drink down on the table and turns his head towards Tetsurou. He wants to say something scathing, but Tetsurou’s eyes are warm and brown and looking at him like he’s the only thing that matters in the world, and he’s spent the last six hours going through footage of Tetsurou looking at Kenma in exactly that way. And Kenma remembers that when he was eight, he thought marriage sounded so stressful: why would you want to have another person around constantly? And then when he was thirteen, he was hit with the epiphany that if he married Tetsurou, he’d have a legal claim on his company, and that perhaps marriage was great if he got to have Tetsurou around constantly.
And every time Tetsurou looks at him like that, Kenma thinks that yeah, his thirteen year-old self got it right after all.
He’s dragging Tetsurou to a courthouse for a second wedding the day Japan legalises gay marriage, he knows. He doesn’t say any of that, but he tilts his head up ever-so-slightly, and Tetsurou readily indulges him with a kiss.
───── 🏐 ─────
Playing Volleyball (The Video Game) Against A Former Volleyball Player
Comments 19.8k
@KodzukenFan
The way Kodzuken looks at him??? I’ve never seen him look so affectionate before, are we sure he hasn’t been kidnapped???
@Franzine13
Oh I’m not ready for a week full of interactive content. I didn’t know he COULD laugh like that I’m NEVER recovering
───── 🏐 ─────
Trying To Recreate Famous Volleyball Moves
Comments 17.2k
@Aaliyah99
Nothing prepared me for Kodzuken’s strong arms or the way he looks with his face flushed from exertion… I am not strong enough for this someone hold me
@Zeldalikespuzzles
I’m not sure who’s luckier here, but I’d sure love to have a friend who looks like THAT who can also play like THAT, holy shit
“You know what,” Tetsurou says, putting a warm hand on Kenma’s hip, “maybe you should just not look at the comments. The videos are up anyway, it’s too late now.”
“They’ll never behave normally again,” Kenma grumbles. “Look at what you’ve done to my fans, they’re thirsty now.”
“And who could blame them,” Tetsurou says, winking.
Kenma shuts him up the best way he knows how to.
───── 🏐 ─────
“This is going to be a disaster,” Kenma says. They’re in Kenma’s gaming room, Tetsurou is wearing an oversized shirt from Kenma’s merch line because he’s terrible like that, and they’re set up and ready to go.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine, baby,” Tetsurou says. Kenma raises his eyebrows at him.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine… buddy?” Tetsurou tries. Kenma sighs.
“A disaster,” he repeats. “Now, behave.” He starts the live-stream.
The view count hikes up stupidly high stupidly quickly even before he’s made a post about the fact he’s live. After the post, the view count practically skyrockets.
“As you can see, we have a guest today,” Kenma tells his viewers. “The Japan Volleyball Association were nice enough to sponsor not only the videos this week, but also this stream.”
Tetsurou grins widely. “Hello,” he drawls. “For those of you that don’t know me yet, I’m Kuroo Tetsurou, I work for the Japan Volleyball Association, and I also happen to be Kenken’s best friend.”
The chat, predictably, goes wild, screaming at the nickname.
“Kuro,” Kenma hisses.
Tetsurou just grins.
“He also, as you can see, likes to exploit our friendship for nefarious work reasons,” Kenma says. “Which is why I’m going to make him play some of my favourite and least favourite video games for the next hours without helping him whatsoever, so we can all laugh at his suffering.”
“I exploit you for perfectly good reasons, seeing as you’re always so mean to me,” Tetsurou says, but he’s still grinning. Kenma has to work hard to suppress the urge to kiss the grin off his face.
“I’m perfectly nice,” he says haughtily, looking away from Tetsurou’s face and at his desktop instead. “Now, let’s see how you do at ego shooter games.”
Someone in the chat donates a thousand yen just to tell him he’s definitely mean.
Tetsurou does horribly at ego shooter games.
After dying for the sixteenth time to Kenma’s quiet laughter, he says, “I can’t believe anyone would find this fun.”
Kenma smiles.
“I know you don’t find this fun,” Tetsurou says. “You prefer games that require strategy and endless grinding.”
“Oh, I’m finding this exceptionally fun,” Kenma says. “I love watching you suffer.” He smirks at Tetsurou. “But maybe I’ll let you play something else if you ask nicely.”
“Please let me play something else,” Tetsurou says, with a raised eyebrow that adds a distinct really? to the end of the sentence.
“I wanted to see you fail at a strategy game anyway,” Kenma says, and forces himself to look at the chat instead of Tetsurou, even though, or rather because he wants nothing more than to stare at the amused tilt of Tetsurou’s mouth. The chat is screaming: about all sorts of things, but also, decidedly, about how different Kenma is around Tetsurou.
Kenma focuses on looking through his steam library.
After four hours without an incident, apart from Kenma and Tetsurou absolutely failing at hiding their affection for each other, Kenma decides they’ve tempted fate enough.
“I’m so glad I’m done with this. You’re all weirdos for liking to watch Kenken play these horrible video games,” Tetsurou tells the chat cheerfully, in lieu of a goodbye.
“Oh, are they really, Kuro?” Kenma asks, raising an eyebrow at him. You watch me play all the time, he doesn’t say. “You like to watch people solve difficult sudokus. Now that’s weird.”
“Well, the sudoku videos make you fall asleep, so who says I’m not watching them to fix your sleep schedule?” Tetsurou responds, grinning.
“So they’re for my benefit, are they?”
“Obviously.” Tetsurou grins. “I’m nice like that.”
Kenma rolls his eyes. “Obviously,” he mocks, and looks back at the chat. And then, his heart seizing in his chest, he realises his mistake.
The chat is mostly different versions of you sleep together!!?.
He’s not entirely sure how they’re going to come back from that one. He decides feigning nonchalance is probably his best bet.
“Anyway, that’s it from me for the night. Don’t expect me to keep posting as regularly as I did last week, I’m going back to my posting schedule of whenever I feel like it going forward,” he tells the chat, his heart pounding. “And don’t expect more collaborations if you can’t behave.” With that, he ends the livestream.
“Fuck,” he says, slumping forward. “Fucked up in the last minute.” He glares at Tetsurou half-heartedly. His hands feel clammy. “And like I suspected, it’s entirely your fault.”
“I’m so gonna get a call from my boss and PR team over this,” Tetsurou says cheerfully.
“You could at least try to look remorseful,” Kenma says.
Tetsurou’s expression softens.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “I know you care about your privacy. I could never regret having people know you’re mine, but I’ll happily do my best to help things calm down. I do think they will if we don’t make a big deal out of it and I stay out of your content again for a while. People online have short attention spans.” He presses a kiss to the top of Kenma’s head, and the tension seeps out of Kenma’s bones. “And you know I’ll fight anyone who harasses you over this.”
“Please don’t,” Kenma says.
“I love you,” Tetsurou says, softly.
“And I love you,” Kenma replies. He looks at Tetsurou, then sighs again. “You’re gonna log into your anonymous fan account to participate in the discussions later, aren’t you?”
“Definitely,” Tetsurou says, grinning. He presses a kiss to Kenma’s lips, and Kenma thinks, yeah, it’s going to be fine. Because Tetsurou is right: while he likes his privacy, and while he likes keeping Tetsurou to himself, he could never regret people knowing that Tetsurou is taken. Their marriage, that’s his; and nobody gets to take that from him.