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Love Live was annoying Kenma today.
It didn’t normally. It wasn’t one of his favorite games, but it was a good game when he needed to focus all of his attention on one thing. Watching the circles race across the screen didn’t allow him to let his attention wander for a second. It annoyed Kuroo, sometimes. Not bad enough for Kenma to stop.
He needed it right now. Needed the distraction.
Unfortunately, he was trying to max out all the songs and the one he still had left drove him nuts. It was the style of music. Too saccharine, probably, with its focus on love and peace. On top of that, one of the rares he was trying to bond with had the most annoying sound when her special was triggered - like a nya, but nothing like a cat. He could just switch to a different song or a different team, but he was stubborn. He shouldn’t let these things bother him. It wasn’t that big a deal.
The sound of gravel crunching under someone’s feet made him purse his lips, watching a circle fly by and break his combo. He could pause and look up to see who it was, but pauses always made him miss circles. Not that he was going to max out on this round anyways, so what were a few more misses.
He glanced up, and immediately regretted it.
Akaashi had found him.
Kenma had escaped after their match, found a quiet little spot outside in the shade behind the building where no one would come. He’d needed some time to cool off. Kuroo, he knew, would find him when he was needed. Kuroo was the one who was supposed to find him.
Not Akaashi.
Suddenly the game was just a distraction. He was off. The rest of the song was a wash, he was lucky to keep his stamina bar from emptying. Hopefully on the outside Akaashi wouldn’t notice, but then again -
Akaashi noticed things.
Noticed things about Bokuto at least. Kenma knew that. It was one of the things he’d taken advantage of during their game. Akaashi read his ace like Kenma read the other team. Akaashi was excellent at utilizing Bokuto’s skills - and the rest of his team - to their best advantage. It was one of the reasons Kenma had opted for the strategy of taking him out as often as possible. It had proven to be a highly effective strategy.
The fact that he might possibly have a crush on the other setter never factored into the equation.
That was that and this was this, after all. Kenma didn’t believe in letting emotions cloud his game play. Emotions were annoying things. So what if Akaashi was attractive, and smart, and calm, and fierce? That shouldn’t matter. On the court, he was just another player to take out - the queen to Bokuto’s king, so to speak.
Though the queen analogy really wasn’t working for Kenma right at the moment.
He glanced up again, meeting Akaashi’s eyes. The taller boy was leaning against a brick wall, watching him, green eyes far too intense for Kenma’s liking.
They brought up those feelings he’d been earnestly trying to quash ever since that moment in their match when their eyes had met through the net.
It wasn’t like they were friends, after all. Sure, Kuroo and Bokuto were joined at the hip whenever they all got together. They played off each other perfectly, after all. Kenma and Akaashi were on opposite sides of the pair. He knew him, of course, but talking to him - well.
Akaashi was calm, but there were so many unknown factors, there.
It made Kenma nervous.
He’d been able to do well in the game, of course. Being on the court gave him a certain level of confidence he’d never found off it. Kenma was good at what he did. Annoyingly good sometimes, because Nekomata gave him responsibility and trusted him with the team’s strategy. He was the brain of the team, the control tower, the spoke in the wheel. It was an easy persona to step into, now that he’d gotten used to it.
He’d played it off to a tee, too, all up until that one moment when he’d followed his own strategy and returned a ball right at Akaashi. That had been perfectly according to plan. Then Akaashi had looked at him and suddenly the wall Kenma had built between his feelings off the court and his place on the court had crumbled a little, because Akaashi was looking at him. Seeing him. Not just Nekoma’s setter, but Kozume Kenma.
That had been more than a little disconcerting.
Akaashi was walking closer. Kenma heard the gravel crunching under his feet. He glanced up, torn between curling into himself further, standing up, and trying to act nonchalant.
Birds of prey weren’t supposed to stalk. Birds of prey were suppose to just swoop down. Not that Kenma wanted Akaashi to swoop down on him - well.
He didn’t. Not really.
“Good strategy today, Kenma,” Akaashi finally said.
Kenma nodded, not trusting his voice with a reply.
“How long have you been watching me?”
Kenma looked up, surprised. That was breaking the rules. He wondered for a moment if he was showing the same face he’d shown on court, and leaned back against the wall because Akaashi was close, too close. Close and beautiful and those green eyes -
He wondered if Akaashi was angry. There was no reason he’d be angry, right? The worry of violence crossed Kenma’s mind and was immediately discarded - Akaashi wasn’t like that. Akaashi was -
Oh. Akaashi, if he was angry off the court, wouldn’t just stoop to violence. No, he’d probably be downright terrifying.
But he couldn’t be upset. It was just a volleyball game. Though if he figured out Kenma might possibly like him, found him impossibly beautiful and intimidating even now, as he leaned far too close - that could be bad. That could be very bad.
Akaashi’s face didn’t give away any of his intentions, though, even as Kenma scanned it over and over to try and find a clue. He finally smirked. That wasn’t really a clue though. He could be a lot of things.
Oh, and that look in Akaashi’s eyes was far too hot for Kenma’s liking. It made his stomach do flip flops and try to climb up his throat. It made his fingers shake so hard he had to put his hands in his lap.
“Huh,” Akaashi finally said, after Kenma had taken too long to answer. “I suppose I’ll just have to return the favor.”
Kenma swallowed, and watched as Akaashi waved and turned around, passing Kuroo as he turned the corner.
Kuroo glanced between Kenma and Akaashi as he walked over to the blond. “Everything ok?” he asked, reading Kenma like a book.
Kuroo knew about the crush, of course. Knew and didn’t mind. For Kenma it was like having a crush on an idol. It wasn’t something that would actually come to pass in real life.
Akaashi wasn’t even supposed to know his name.
Akaashi knew his name. Called him by his first name. That was - well. That was downright terrifying.
“It’s fine,” Kenma said, getting up and shrugging off the gentle pat to his head.
“Whatever you say, kitten,” Kurro said, making Kenma scrunch his nose at the pet name.
He felt better though.
It wasn’t like he’d be seeing Akaashi anytime soon, anyways.
.......
Anytime soon, evidently, meant “not for a few hours.”
Kuroo had informed him that Bokuto had invited everyone over for a party that night to celebrate. On the one hand that didn’t make much sense to Kenma, for the winners and losers to celebrate together. On the other hand, it did. They were pretty good friends, after all.
If they ever beat Karasuno in a match, Kenma probably wouldn’t mind hanging out with Shouyou and the rest of them afterwards. Well, mainly Shouyou, but he was getting to where the rest of the crows didn’t bother him as much.
This party, though, wasn’t exactly a place he wanted to be.
Kenma had thought he’d be able to get out of it. “Don’t wanna,” he’d said, when Kuroo asked him about it. Going home and curling up under the covers for a replay of Zelda seemed far more appealing than taking the train all the way over to Bokuto’s house for who-knows-what type of shenanigans. Kuroo pointing out that Bokuto’s parents were out of town hadn’t sweetened the pot at all.
As stubborn as Kenma could be, however, there were times when Kuroo could outdo him.
That was why he was now slouched beside Kuroo, walking up the steps to Bokuto’s house. At least his phone was fully charged. Final Fantasy 9 wasn’t quite the same as Zelda, but for comfort and nostalgia, he’d go for it.
“Hey hey hey!” Bokuto said as he opened the door, holding out a bowl. “Keys and phones in here, man.”
Kenma shot him a traitorous look. Kuroo complied, then glanced over at Kenma. This was it, though. He would draw the line at no phones. He’d just play out here if he had to - well, he probably wouldn’t, because that would mean that everyone would notice him, but still.
Kuroo didn’t push, though. Just sighed and ushered Kenma in, silencing Bokuto’s whining complaints with a look. Kenma wasn’t sure he liked the look Bokuto gave Kuroo in return.
They were plotting something, he just knew it.
Then again, they were always plotting something.
Yaku and Lev were already there, chatting with Konoha about the game. Kenma found a spot close to them and curled up in his seat, focusing on the RPG on his phone and listening to their conversations with half an ear. After a few moments he noticed a cup had descended into his range of vision and he reached out to take it, looking up to thank Kuroo for his attentiveness.
It wasn’t Kuroo, though.
It was Akaashi.
Kenma took the cup on autopilot, looking down into the red depths of what appeared to be fruit punch with a bit of suspicion.
“Thanks,” Kenma said, glancing up.
Akaashi just nodded, an expression that might have been a smile flitting across his face as he turned to go back to join his other teammates.
Now, Kenma was left with the quandary of whether or not to drink the punch. Was Akaashi the type of guy who would slip something in there? Kenma didn’t think so. That was probably being paranoid. It wasn’t like Kuroo would let anything happen even if Akaashi had, right? No. Kuroo would protect him. What if there was alcohol in the drink? Kenma didn’t drink, but some of the third years were sitting around the table drinking beers right out in the open. Vodka was colorless, it wouldn’t show up in the fruit punch.
He’d probably taste it if Akaashi had slipped some in.
Not that the other setter would do something like that.
It wasn’t like Akaashi wanted to get him drunk.
Kenma glanced over at Akaashi, wondering suddenly if the other had any idea exactly what was going through his head. That was terrifying. Akaashi was too smart. Kenma didn’t like this. Didn’t like having his attention. Didn’t like the fact that was watching him even as he talked with Komi and one of their other teammates. It was so much easier to just be ignored.
Screw it.
He took a sip, swirling it around in his mouth to see if he could taste anything out of the ordinary. It just tasted like fruit punch. Not his favorite beverage, but not anything awful.
Kenma glanced over at the table to catch Kuroo’s eye. He was laughing with Bokuto, but looked over like he always did, like he knew instinctively when Kenma needed a bit of reassurance. It helped. Kuroo calmed him. He knew exactly where he stood with Kuroo.
A quick glance back over at Akaashi totally ruined the calm, though.
Kenma took another sip, looking back down at his phone. It was probably nothing. Akaashi was a good guy. He probably wasn’t mad. Kenma should probably be happy. Lots of people would like having the attention of their crush on them.That was the point it, right? At least for everyone else. To have these uncomfortable fluttery feelings turn into something exciting and shared.
That wasn’t what he wanted with Akaashi.
At least, he was pretty sure that wasn’t what he wanted.
He couldn’t even imagine it happening.
No. Kenma liked safe, and comfortable. He didn’t need exciting.
He liked Kuroo. Kuroo was safe. Even new things with Kuroo were safe, because he knew that Kuroo would never hurt him or expect him to be someone other than who he was.
New people were a headache, most of the time. Shouyou - well. Shouyou was pretty easy to figure out. He was comfortable, positive, excited but never in a way that made Kenma anxious - at least not now. There’d been a few moments in the beginning, but Shouyou was easy to read.
Akaashi -
Akaashi was smart. Akaashi was dangerous. Kenma glanced back over at him, wondering if Akaashi had been watching him as he pretended to play his game. Kuroo would have noticed he was faking. Kuroo could read all the little tells - the tension in his shoulder, the way his eyes narrowed, the way he would sometimes stare over the top of the screen instead of at it. Akaashi was probably smart enough to figure the tells out too. Kenma didn’t want that.
He didn’t want anyone to know him as well as Kuroo did.
Kenma frowned.
He was staring down into his cup. His empty cup. It wasn’t like him to get this distracted by his thoughts, especially not in public.
Now, though, he had options. He could get up and go get more punch. Weave through the strangers - and friends - and go into the kitchen, maybe even sit down with Kuroo for a bit. Or he could stay here.
There was always a chance someone would bring him another drink.
He glanced over at Akaashi to see if he’d noticed, but the other boy seemed engaged in conversation. Kenma wondered what they were talking about.
No he didn’t. He didn’t care.
“You ok, Kenma-san?” Lev asked, glancing over at him.
Kenma shot him a look. He realized that meant that his expression must have given him away, because both Lev and Yaku were looking at him with concern.
“I’m fine. Just going to get something to drink.”
“Alright.”
Kenma sighed and slipped his phone into his pocket as he got up, carrying his cup into the kitchen.
“Hey hey hey, Kenma,” Bokuto said, smiling at him. “Coming to join us?”
He was seated next to Kuroo at the table.
“No,” Kenma said. “Just getting something to drink. There’s no place to sit, anyways.”
“You could just sit on Kuroo’s la- oof,” Bokuto said, giving a wounded look at the boy seated next to him.
Kuroo just shook his head.
“You can sit in my spot if you want,” Kai said. “I was going to go see how Yaku and Lev were doing.”
He’d been seated on the other side of Kuroo.
Kenma weighed the options in his mind and shrugged, going over to pour himself some more punch. “Ok.”
It was probably better to be in here than out in the living room. At least now, Akaashi wouldn’t have a clear view of him all the time.
He sat down next to Kuroo and leaned closer to him, thankful for the way his best friend brushed their arms together. The boys at the table were playing some sort of card game. Something that involved kings and pairs. Kenma just pulled his own game back up and got into it.
“The main character in that one kinda looks like you,” Kuroo observed after a few minutes.
“Not really,’ Kenma said, though the character did have blond hair a bit like his. “He has a tail.”
“A tail?” Bokuto said, leaning over. “I wanna see.”
Kenma just sighed and paused his game, showing it to them. “See? He doesn’t look a thing like me at all.”
“That’s so cool! He does have a tail! Can he fight with it? Throw things with it? Is he a cat like you?”
Kenma scowled. “I’m not a cat,” he said, glaring up at Kuroo in case he wanted to interject his own opinion on the matter.
“But if you were a cat, you’d have a tail! That would be so cool!” Bokuto protested.
Kenma sighed, watching amusement dance in Kuroo’s eyes before something distracted him.
“Maybe he hides his tail, Bokuto-san,” a new voice said.
Kenma whipped his head around and stared at Akaashi. This wasn’t going the way it was supposed to at all.
“Ohoho, you think?” Bokuto said, glancing back at Kenma. “Maybe we should check.”
“I -”
“Now, now,” Kuroo said, throwing an arm around Kenma’s shoulders, “you all should stop trying to upset my precious setter.”
Kenma tried shrugging the arm off. He didn’t need to be treated like a child in front of everyone. Kuroo could be so annoying sometimes.
“Fine, fine,” Bokuto said, giving Kuroo a measured look. “Just playing, Kenma.”
Kenma huffed, shrugging off Kuroo’s arm again and succeeding this time. The other players picked up the card game again. The only difference was that one of the Furkurodani players had to go home, leaving room for Akaashi to sit across from them and take his spot.
That didn’t really matter either, though. Akaashi wasn’t paying him undue attention this time. Not really. Sometimes when Kenma looked up he’d still see the other’s gaze on him, but normally he was watching the cards or back to Bokuto, like he should be.
Bokuto was the loud one, after all.
“I’m bored,” Bokuto finally announced, throwing down his cards and taking a drink of beer.
“Because you keep losing,” Kuroo said.
“Meh, it’s not fair that Akaashi started playing. He’s cheating.”
“I’m not, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi replied. “I’ve just been practicing since that one night.”
“Yeah, well,” Bokuto said, “I’m still bored. Let’s play another game. Oh, I know - have you guys played ‘Never have I Ever?’”
There was a round of groans around the table, and a few of the other third years left the table, pleading their parents curfew.
“We should probably be going home too, right Kuroo?” Kenma asked.
“No, it’s ok. I talked to our moms. We can spend the night here.”
Kenma narrowed his eyes at Kuroo, wondering when this exchange had taken place. Kuroo looked far too innocent for his liking.
“I’ll get you something to drink to make up for it, Kenma. Want the same thing? You could try a beer.”
Kenma made a face. “Nope.”
“Aww, but it’s no fun to play a drinking game without alcohol!” Bokuto protested.
“Who said I’m playing?”
Kuroo chuckled, standing and taking Kenma’s cup. “You should. It’ll be fun.”
Kenma glanced over at Akaashi, not liking the look of challenge on his face. He sighed, deciding to give in, if only because he knew Kuroo would bug him if he didn’t. “Fine.”
“That’s the spirit!” Bokuto said, pounding the table with the flat of his hand. “Kuroo, grab me and Akaashi beers.”
Kenma wanted to laugh at the look that crossed Akaashi’s face at that, but he didn’t. He was just thankful that the drink Kuroo brought him back was plain fruit punch with no alcohol involved.
“Ok! Just so we’re clear - the rules of the game we’re playing are, we take turns going around in a circle making statements, like, ‘Never have I ever kissed a pig’ and anyone who has kissed a pig has to take a drink. Ok?” Bokuto said.
“I think we’ve all played the game before, Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said.
“Maybe Kenma hasn’t. Have you?”
Kenma sighed, lips twitching. “Never have I ever played Never have I ever.”
A wide grin split Bokuto’s face and he hooted, taking a drink. “You got it!”
The rest of the other boys around the table followed suit. Kenma was the only one who hadn’t played, though he wasn’t surprised at that. He tried to remember the names of the other Fukurodani players at the table - Sarukui, he thought, and Washio. They were on the other side of the table, though. Yamamoto was on Kenma’s other side. It made him comfortable being surrounded by teammates.
Kuroo was next. “Never have I ever,” he started, glancing over at Bokuto, “Kissed a pig.”
“Hey! That was just supposed to be an example!” Bokuto said.
Kuroo just looked at him, and they all watched as Bokuto sighed and took a drink.
“Really, Bokuto-san?” Akaashi said.
“It was at a school fair! I didn’t even really kiss it, just tripped and -”
They were all distracted when Yamamoto tried - and failed - to hide the fact that he was taking a drink as well.
“What?” Yamamoto said. “I was at my cousin’s farm, we were playing truth or dare.”
Kuroo and Bokuto laughed along with the others at the table. Kenma did have to admit, it was amusing to see the slight color gracing his teammate’s cheeks.
“Fine, fine,” Bokuto said. “Hmm. Never have I ever... streaked in front of my teacher’s house.”
Kenma stifled a chuckle as the look on Kuroo’s face grew sour. “I never should have told you that,” he grumbled, taking a drink.
“What? At least she was hot. And didn’t call the cops.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Ok,” Sarukui said, “Never have I ever been one of the top five aces in the country.”
Everyone groaned as Bokuto proudly took a drink.
“I’m not sure you all know how to play this game,” Kuroo said.
“Never have I ever failed a test,” Washio said, causing Bokuto to groan and take another drink.
Kenma sighed and took a drink as well, trying to ignore all the looks he was gathering. “What?”
“He stayed up too late playing video games the night before,” Kuroo oh-so-helpfully pointed out.
“Yeah, well it was just a spelling test,” Kenma grumbled.
“Woah, how old were you, like eight?” Bokuto said.
“Maybe.”
Akaashi chuckled quietly at that, making Kenma feel even more self-conscious. He ducked his head, tempted to pull his game back out.
“Never have I ever,” Akaashi said, looking over at him, “beaten the entire Zelda series.”
Kenma sighed and drank, looking over in surprise as Sarukui and Washio did the same. Huh. Learn something new every day.
“Never have I ever kissed a manager,” Yamamoto said.
Kuroo and Bokuto drank and gave each other high fives.
“Really?” Kenma asked.
Kuroo just shrugged, having the grace to look at least a little self-conscious.
“Same one, too, how about that, eh?” Bokuto said with a grin.
“Bokuto-san, I’m not sure that’s something you should be boasting about.”
Kenma raised an eyebrow at Kuroo, who just shrugged. There really was no telling with those two.
“Hmm,” Kenma said, realizing it was back around to him. “Never have I ever had a crush on a middle blocker.”
Kuroo frowned at him as he drank, and Kenma wondered if he’d made the right call. There were middle blockers on the girls teams too, so it shouldn’t be that big a deal. Nevermind that they both knew Kuroo’s attraction had been for someone definitely not on a girl’s team.
“Hmm,” Bokuto said, twisting his beer bottle around in his hand, “if they return your affections is it really a crush?”
“Yes,” everyone said, and Kenma didn’t miss the look that shot between the two captains. Well that wasn’t totally unexpected.
Kuroo just sighed. “Never have I ever wanted to kiss a setter.”
“That’s so not true bro! You totally have!”
“Relax, bro, I’m drinking.”
And he was. And so was Bokuto, which was interesting but also not surprising. But so was Akaashi? While looking at him? That was -
Kenma turned to the side as he took a big drink himself, not sure how to interpret this bit of information. Then he realized what he himself had given away.
Maybe he could play it off as having a crush on Oikawa, if the topic came up.
“Never have I ever,” Bokuto proclaimed, “Wanted to kiss an ace.”
Everyone groaned again, watching as Akaashi and Kuroo both dutifully drank.
“Well,” Sarukui said as he checked his phone, “I’m out. Dad just texted and needs something from the convenience store.”
“I think I’m gonna bail too,” Washio said, standing up. “Fun party, Bokuto-san.”
“Aww! Yeah! It was great! The bowl with your keys is over there.”
Kenma frowned. “How come they didn’t have to give up their phones?” he murmured to Kuroo.
Kuroo just chuckled. “Because he figured you’d be on yours all night.”
“Huh. Smart.”
“Sometimes.”
“Hey!” Bokuto said, hitting Kuroo in the arm. “I heard that.”
“It’s Akaashi’s turn now, anyways,” Kurro said.
“Hmm, so it is,” Akaashi said.
Kenma looked down at his drink, worried suddenly.
“Never have I ever ignored the person I had a crush on.”
That was stupid. Didn’t everyone do that? Still, Kenma felt like his cheeks were heating up as he drank, even though looking around the table everyone else was drinking too. Akaashi caught his eye as he looked at him, a smirk crossing his beautiful face.
This was the point in a boss fight where Kenma would want to flee, and would be unable to. Damn game mechanics.
“Haha,” Yamamoto said, “Uh, Never have I ever gotten the number of the cutest female manager in Miyagi?”
Everyone stared at him, and no one drank.
“Dude,” Kuroo said, “That’s way too specific.”
“Well, I was thinking if one of you had the number -”
“Just - no.”
Kenma ducked his head and chuckled, then realized it was back around to him. “Um, never have I ever....”
He nibbled his bottom lip, trying to think of something good, “... been arrested at the zoo for trying to free the owls?”
“It was an act of justice!” Bokuto said, drinking proudly as Kuroo and Akaashi followed suit.
“Never have I ever had sex,” Kuroo said, ignoring the look Kenma shot him as everyone else at the table drank - including Akaashi.
“Never have I ever had a blowjob,” Bokuto countered.
Kenma’s eyes went wide and he looked over at Akaashi, eyes burning as he had to take a drink. Everyone else did too, but that didn’t matter, especially with the way those green eyes widened in surprise.
Things were escalating far too quickly.
“Never have I ever wanted to give a blowjob to someone at this table,” Akaashi said, lifting his cup to his mouth even as he made the statement.
That was it.
Time to flee.
Kenma pushed up from the table, ignoring Yamamoto’s cries of “Too much information - ack, you two as well?” in favor of absconding out the back door and into the backyard.
He leaned up against the wall, feeling the texture of the wood beneath his hands and trying to just breathe. The night air was cool against his burning cheeks. That wasn’t fair. That really wasn’t. He hadn’t even thought that far about Akaashi.
Akaashi had probably just meant Bokuto or someone - Kuroo for all Kenma knew - but the way he’d looked at him -
It was too much.
He hadn’t thought about them together like that, not really. He’d been thinking going to have tea, or walks in the park, or something soft and calm, not -
And he shouldn’t be imagining it right now, no -
The back door opened softly.
Let it be Kuroo. Let it be Kuroo. Let it be -
“Hey,” a soft voice said.
It wasn’t Kuroo.
Akaashi stepped outside, staying back as Kenma pressed himself closer to the wall. The taller boy raised his hands in a placating fashion. “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to take it that far. Can I blame the alcohol?”
Kenma eyed him, then looked out over the garden in the backyard. “It’s ok.”
“Want to come sit in the garden with me?” Akaashi said, holding out his hand.
Holding hands was a bit too much so Kenma ignored it, but he did walk a bit closer to Akaashi so he could climb down the steps and go to a corner with two stone benches. He sat in the middle of one and hoped Akaashi would get the hint to take the other.
He did.
“I was surprised today, at the game,” Akaashi said. “I mean, I knew you were good, but I didn’t imagine things becoming that difficult.”
Kenma shrugged. “It made sense, with how Bokuto was playing. Focusing on you was the best strategy, with your talent.”
“Thank you.”
“It’s just the truth.” The truth shouldn’t be considered a complement. Not really.
Akaashi nodded, moonlight glinting off of his dark curls.
They were quiet for a moment, both probably thinking about how the game had gone. They didn’t need to talk about the outcome. This party was in part to reinforce the fact that the friendship between the two teams went beyond one single game, after all, even a very important game.
It was Akaashi who broke the comfortable silence.
“Is it true that you like me?” he asked.
Kenma glared at him, and Akaashi threw up his hands.
“Sorry, sorry. That - that was not the best way to go about this.”
“You’re right,” Kenma said. “You can’t blame everything on beer.”
“True,” Akaashi said. “I’m not Bokuto-san.”
That brought the hint of a smile to Kenma’s mouth as he recalled one amazing incident where Bokuto had tried to do just that with Fukurodani’s manager at training camp, and failed miserably.
“That’s not a bad thing,” Kenma said.
“He’s not so bad, once you get used to him. Most of the time.”
“Well, yes, but -” Kenma said, stopping himself before letting a confession slip past his lips.
Akaashi just looked at him, gaze gentle enough that Kenma had to look away.
“I suppose the better way to go about this would be to say that I like you,” Akaashi mused.
Kenma hoped that the moonlight wouldn’t reveal the flush that was probably creeping over his cheeks at that. “How - how long?” he finally asked. “Just today?”
“What?” Akaashi said. “Oh. No. Not just today. Um, since our first training camp together, if you want to know the truth. I just never thought until today that you might, well. Reciprocate.”
Kenma looked over at him, surprised to see that Akaashi was the one looking away this time.
“Our first training camp?”
“Yeah, well. I didn’t really think anything of it. You’re - well. Beautiful.”
Kenma made a face. “I am not.” You are, he wanted to add, but didn’t.
“Yes. Your movement -”
“I slouch. And I’m not that athletic.”
Akaashi chuckled. “I’ve seen your thighs, Kenma. Er -”
Eyes widening, Kenma put his hands on his lap. So what if his thighs had gotten more muscular lately? He had actually been practicing more, after all, even if he didn’t want to admit it to Kuroo.
“That wasn’t what I meant, thought,” Akaashi said, a note of apology in his voice. “Your movement is beautiful. Has always been. It’s all economy of energy, just enough motion to achieve your goals and no more. To me, it’s very beautiful.”
“Huh,” Kenma said, looking down. “You shouldn’t say so much.”
“Sorry.”
Kenma thought it over for a few minutes, wondering if there were more words locked inside Akaashi that would make him feel self-conscious. Praise wasn’t something he particularly liked, even if he hoarded the compliments he did receive to think about them when he was alone. Too often, compliments had strings attached. He tested Akaashi’s words to see if they did.
He didn’t think so.
A part of him, though, was saying that now was the time for him to make a response to Akaashi’s confession. How awkward.
“I might,” he finally said, keeping his gaze trained on his hands.
“Hmm?”
“I might like you,” Kenma said. “I mean, I don’t know. I don’t really know you, other than, you know.”
He finally looked up at Akaashi to see how he would take the news.
He looked amused. “Well,” Akaashi said, “I don’t really know you either, yet. But I’d like the chance to try.”
Kenma felt a bit of warmth in his chest at that. “Hopefully not over more drinking games, at least at first,” he said.
A pained look crossed Akaashi’s face. “Yes, well. I will admit, that probably wasn’t my wisest decision.”
“You planned that?” Kenma said, eyes widening.
“Ah, no. That was - it was Bokuto and Kuroo’s idea.”
“Really,” Kenma said, filing that bit of information away to use later. “It was Kuroo’s plan. Huh.”
Akaashi gave a nervous chuckle. “I probably shouldn’t’ve told you that.”
“Oh no. I’m glad you did.”
“Well....” Akaashi said, trailing off.
Kenma thought for a moment. “If... if you did want to get to know me better, what would be your plan?”
“Hmm. I’ve been told that apple pie is always a good option,” Akaashi said.
Kuroo was going to be in so much trouble. “Go on,” Kenma said.
“Maybe going to visit a video game store? Though I admit, I wouldn’t really know what to look for. Maybe you could help me find a game that suited my tastes.”
Kenma nodded. He could do that, possibly.
“And we could text back and forth too, if you wanted,” Akaashi said. “Maybe -”
“Maybe?”
Shrugging, Akaashi continued, “Maybe send each other pictures of things we liked throughout the day. I mean, we don’t have to, but. Well. I’d like to have a list of what Kenma likes.”
Kenma stared at him a moment, lost in thought, then finally pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Ok,” he said.
“What?”
“I said ok. We can do that.”
He brought up a new contact screen and handed his phone over to Akaashi, watching as the light lit up the planes of his face. Akaashi was smiling as he typed in his information. It was a small, Akaashi-sized smile, but it made Kenma happy to know it was for him.
He was also happy that Akaashi wasn’t actually mad at him. If Kuroo had gone to the trouble to try and get them to talk to each other, he was also fairly sure that Akaashi was in all actuality the good guy he seemed to be. Kuroo was a massive dork sometimes, but he was never actually careless with Kenma.
He ducked his head at that, hiding the smile that was meant for Kuroo.
“Alright,” Akaashi said. “Can you send me a text?”
Kenma took the phone back and nodded, thinking a moment before attaching a screenshot he’d taken of one of his favorite new games. “There. Number one on your list. Kenma likes video games.”
Akaashi pulled out his phone and checked his text message, chuckling. “For some reason, I’ve had that impression for a while - but thanks.”
They shared a smile for just a fraction of a second.
It was new, and strange, and Kenma wasn’t really sure if the feeling in his stomach was a good or a bad feeling - but he supposed he was willing to find out.
“Do you want to go back inside?” Akaashi asked.
Kenma shook his head. “No,” he said. “I like it out here. It’s quiet. I’d like to stay out here until I get too cold.”
Akaashi just made a small sound of agreement, tilting his head up to look at the moon.
He didn’t move to go back inside. He didn’t tell Kenma he could sit next to him if he got cold. He didn’t try to fill up the air with pointless chatter, or complain when Kenma gave into temptation and started up his game again.
He was just quiet, and there, and beautiful, and patient.
Coming to the party, Kenma supposed, hadn’t turned out to be such a bad thing after all.