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“Bokuto-san, don’t you think you’ve hung enough of those?” Akaashi frowned as he looked around the first floor of Bokuto’s house. In every doorway—hell, on every hanging light fixture, lamp, even in the passthrough between the kitchen and the eating area—Bokuto had affixed mistletoe. “You want everyone to be kissing everyone else all night long?”
“Not everyone kissing everyone, Keiji!” Bokuto finished hanging the last one, which he’d hung just above the staircase going up to the second floor. “Just one everyone and one other everyone!”
“Yes, I know.” Bokuto knew that Akaashi had heard his reasoning for buying all of the mistletoe at the store at least five times, but he appreciated Akaashi listening again. “You don’t think Kuroo-san will get the hint from just one piece of mistletoe?”
“Nah.” Bokuto hopped down the few steps to the ground floor and faced his boyfriend. “Kuroo’s oblivious. We gotta make it clear.”
Akaashi held back a giggle. “It’ll—it’ll be very, very clear, Bokuto-san.”
“Good.” Bokuto pulled Akaashi close. “Because once Kuroo ‘n’ Kenma are all done using this mistletoe…” He kissed Akaashi slowly, softly, under the mistletoe. Akaashi’s knees nearly gave out.
Bokuto’s eyes gleamed. “We’re gonna be using all this mistletoe for ourselves, Keiji.”
Akaashi smiled, and Bokuto grinned back. He was so slick! Such a romantic!
When Akaashi slipped his arms around Bokuto’s shoulders and drew him near again, Bokuto’s heart soared. “I don’t think I’m going to make it through the night,” he whispered. “Kuroo-san and Kozume are just going to have to compete with us under every single one.” He pressed a kiss to Bokuto’s jaw, lips brushing a hint of stubble. “Because I don’t know if I can wait that long.” He pressed a kiss to the shell of Bokuto’s ear, and Bokuto shivered at the feel of Akaashi’s lips so near, yet so far. “In fact,” he added, Bokuto feeling his body grow hot at the thought, “I think maybe we should get started…right now.”
“Keiji,” Bokuto whispered, moaning softly as Akaashi kissed down the hollow of his throat. “The guests are gonna be here soon.”
Akaashi kissed him, lingering on Bokuto’s lips, full of the promise of later. “Let them wait,” he murmured. “We’re a little busy at the moment.”
A loud bang on the front door had them jumping apart, Akaashi blushing even though no one was there except the two of them. Bokuto, though, had to laugh. “See, Keiji?!” he exclaimed. “Parties don’t wait for the making out—parties are the making out!”
“I guess you’re right,” Akaashi agreed. He gave Bokuto one more soft peck. “I’ll go see to the food. You can open the door and deal with…”
Another loud series of raps made Bokuto beam with excitement and Akaashi roll his eyes. “We know you’re in there, you big dumb owl!” shouted a familiar voice. It was followed by several kicks at the door.
“Well,” Akaashi said blandly, “guess we know who’s here.”
Bokuto laughed and kissed his boyfriend on the cheek. “Guess we do!” he said cheerily. “Come on, Keiji! We have to greet our guests!”
Akaashi smiled. “We don’t have to do anything,” he said, squeezing Bokuto’s bicep. “You have to go greet our guests. I have to go finish putting the food out on the trays.”
“It’s not hard to put out chips and pretzels!” Bokuto protested. Another knock sounded at the door.
“No,” Akaashi agreed, “but I also have to heat up the karaage and all the other hot food you insisted we should buy.” He planted one more kiss on Bokuto’s lips. “Now go,” he said. “I’ll be right in the other room.”
“O—okay,” Bokuto said reluctantly. He watched Akaashi head back into the kitchen, then turned his head towards the door as yet another loud knock sounded. “All right, all right!” he shouted. “I’m coming!”
He wrenched open the door and frowned. “Thought it was you,” he said, taking a gift box from Konoha and a convenience store bag from Washio. It clattered when he adjusted his grip on the handles. “Beer?” he asked.
“Washio!” Konoha elbowed him. “We’ve got the tournament coming up! We can’t—”
“It’s in like three weeks,” Washio said amiably, “and this is our last Fukurōdani-Nekoma holiday party. Might as well go all out, right Bokuto?”
“What’s that about going all out?” shouted another voice. Washio and Konoha stepped inside and exchanged their shoes for slippers. Konoha took back the gift box and the bag of beer. “Where’s Akaashi?” he said.
“Kitchen,” Bokuto replied. “Yakkun!”
“Bokkun!” Yaku bounded into the house and slapped Bokuto on the arm. “Thanks for hosting this year, buddy. We’re looking forward to crushing you in the tournament this year!”
“No problem!” Bokuto laughed. “And like hell if you think that cats have anything on us owls!”
“Speaking of cats,” Akaashi said, coming out from the kitchen with a tray of food, “no sign of Kuroo-san yet?”
“I texted him.” Nobuyuki Kai, the Nekoma vice-captain, came in through the open door. He smiled at Bokuto and handed him a box. “I heard you like strawberry cake,” he said.
“I love all cakes,” Bokuto replied seriously, “but strawberry is the best!”
“You texted him?” Yaku asked Kai, who nodded.
“Yes,” he answered. “And he said that he and Kenma…” He pulled out his phone and squinted at the screen.
“You need glasses, Kai?” Konoha asked.
“He said he was on his way to get Kenma and then they’d be over,” Kai said. “And yes, I do need glasses, Yakkun. Just for reading. Didn’t think I’d be doing any of that tonight.”
“You won’t be!” Yaku cheered. He went into the kitchen and returned with two open beer bottles. He handed one to Kai and held up his own bottle to Kai’s face. “This is all you’ll need to read tonight,” he added. “How much alcohol is in each bottle.”
One by one, the other members of Nekoma and Fukurōdani filed in. Lev and Tora came together, along with Sarukui, who they’d run into on the way.
Bokuto looked around, a smile on his face. Konoha and Tora were teasing Lev, Yaku and Kai were trying to convince Komi and Washio to play some kind of drinking game Bokuto didn’t quite understand, but they kept saying it was “the best game ever,” which how could it be if it wasn’t volleyball?
He loved parties; he loved his friends being here, all having fun, even if Yaku kept telling Lev to stay away from the mistletoe! It was only here for one person, well, two people, actually, only…
“Hey, Keiji?” he said then, turning to his boyfriend. Akaashi was leisurely sipping some tea and scowling at Komi, who was doing his best ‘Akaashi won’t play with us’ impression. Akaashi hummed and met his gaze. “How come Kuroo’s not here yet, do you think?”
Akaashi’s scowl got deeper. “It’s not like him to be late,” he replied. “Have you texted him?”
“Only like a million times!” Bokuto took a chug of his beer. Fuck, it tasted kind of gross! Why did people like this anyway? “But he’s not answering!”
“Oh.” Akaashi set his tea down, then took Bokuto’s beer and did the same. He snuggled into Bokuto’s arms, nestling himself right between Bokuto’s pecs. Bokuto sighed happily; his favorite place for his Keiji to be!
“Well,” Akaashi said next, twisting a little so he could still look at Bokuto, “wherever Kuroo-san is, he’s okay, right? He’s not the sort to get into too much trouble…not with Kenma, anyway.”
Akaashi’s words softened the worry in Bokuto’s heart. “I bet you’re right, Keiji!” he replied, and dropped a kiss on Akaashi’s lips. “Wherever Kuroo is, I’m sure that he’s fine.”
Kuroo Tetsurou was most decidedly not fine.
For the last thirty minutes, he’d been pacing outside of Kenma’s house, trying to get up the nerve to go and knock on the damn door. Normally, knocking on Kenma’s door wasn’t an issue; he usually didn’t even knock on it! He’d been letting himself into the Kozume household since he was nine years old! So why was he nervous now? Why did he feel this urge to knock on the fucking door?
Because he wanted tonight to be special. It was Christmas Eve, after all! The night people were supposed to spend with their loved ones, the ones most special to them!
And, sure, he loved Bo—the guy was like a brother to him—and he was super excited to attend the party. It was the last Fukurōdani-Nekoma party he’d get to go to as a current student, and the only one where he’d get to go as captain!
But Kenma.
Kenma was special. Wonderful. Perfect. The brain of their team, and the love of Kuroo’s life.
The only problem was that Kenma had no idea that Kuroo felt that way about him. Like, at all.
Which, how was that even possible? Kuroo was pretty sure he was fairly obvious with his feelings. He picked up Kenma every morning before school, he ate lunch with him, he walked him to volleyball practice, he went home with him. They did homework together, they gamed together (okay, Kenma gamed, and Kuroo read his chemistry books or whatever manga Bokuto had insisted he read), they slept over each other’s houses— in each other’s beds. Was there anything better than waking up with a mouth full of Kenma’s hair, with Kenma sleeping peacefully on his chest?
No, no there was not.
Except that, in just a few short months, Kuroo would be leaving. He’d be going to university—he’d already been scouted by a few teams, and he and Bokuto had been talking about which one they should accept (they’d always wanted to play together). But Kuroo was determined to take entrance exams, too—he wanted everyone to know he wasn’t some jock, that he could also get into college on his academic merit, and dammit, he was gonna show that!
But, Kenma.
While Kuroo was super excited at the idea of playing college volleyball with Bokuto, he wasn’t super excited at the idea of leaving Kenma alone at Nekoma for a whole year. They’d been inseparable since they were kids, Kuroo looked out for him (and Kenma sometimes did the same), and he just…he just…
He couldn’t even fathom the idea of being away from Kenma for a whole year.
That thought was the one that got him thinking that now, finally, was the time to let Kenma know how Kuroo felt. That maybe, if Kuroo told Kenma that he loved him, that even though they’d be apart physically, Kenma would always be in his heart, maybe that would be the thing that would give Kenma the comfort he needed to get through the next year, until they could be together again?
Plus, it was Christmas Eve, and Christmas Eve was the time for such confessions, right?
He just had to get up the courage to do it.
And figure out exactly when.
Not at Bokuto’s party; too many familiar faces, and Kenma might murder him before they even shared a kiss (one Kuroo was very much looking forward to). No, Bokuto’s party wasn’t the best place. Should he wait until after? Share their first kiss as a goodnight kiss?
The anticipation of waiting all night might kill him, though. Should he do it as soon as he went up to the door? Or on the way there? But then things might be weird if Kenma says yes and they have to act all couple-y?
Or what if he said no? Oh, gods, that would be even worse! They’d have to act all normal—Kuroo would have to act all normal, when his heart was shattered into a million pieces!
No, no he couldn’t do this. He had to wait. Maybe tonight wasn’t the night. Maybe he should wait! Maybe…
“Kuro.” Kuroo yelped and jumped and spun around. Kenma stood there, just outside the gate, looking at him as though he had a volleyball for a head.
“Ken—Kenma!” Kuroo tried to hide how flustered he was, but he knew from the way Kenma’s eyes narrowed that he was failing. He laughed and ran a hand through his hair, probably making it even worse but oh well. “What—what are you doing here?”
“I live here.” Kenma crossed his arms and glared at Kuroo. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, ah, you know…” Shit, what to say, what to say! “I live here, too.”
“No, you live over there.” Kenma jerked a thumb towards Kuroo’s house. “I live here. And you have been pacing in front of my house for a good thirty minutes now.” Kenma frowned, but Kuroo could see real worry behind his golden eyes. “You wanna tell me why?”
“W—why?” Kuroo stammered. “Why—why what?”
Kenma sighed. He reached out and took Kuroo by the elbow. “Come on,” he said, dragging Kuroo along the sidewalk, “we’re gonna be late for Koutarou’s party if you don’t hurry up.”
“Wait.” For some reason, Kenma’s words jolted Kuroo out of his stupor. He stopped, and Kenma’s whole body jerked from the motion. “You want to go to Bo’s party?” He leaned forward and felt Kenma’s forehead, then his own. “You don’t have a fever,” he commented. “You sure you’re okay? You’re not coming down with something and not telling me, are you?”
Kenma scowled and knocked Kuroo’s hand away. “I promise, Kuro, I’m fine,” he mumbled. “I just want to get there and get back and spend as little time as possible doing it.”
Kuroo breathed a sigh of relief. There was the Kenma he knew and…
Loved.
The Kenma he knew and loved.
“O—okay,” he stammered—again, almost back-to-back; honestly what was wrong with him? “Let’s go, and if you’re good and stay the whole time, I’ll let you kick my ass in Mario Kart when we get home.”
“I always kick your ass in Mario Kart,” Kenma muttered, but he set off down the street again towards the station, Kuroo following along, happily in tow.
As he watched Kenma trudge along, hand still wrapped around Kuroo’s elbow, Kuroo couldn’t help but feel a swell of love for the young man before him, even as Kenma still scowled as they walked. It was fine. Kenma often vacillated between neutral and scowly for his expressions; smiling was rare, reserved for beating a game or, occasionally, for Kuroo. But Kuroo could easily imagine them walking together, to Bokuto’s party, to their parents’ houses, to coffee shops, and arcades…all hand-in-hand, all the love in the universe steady between them.
But Kuroo could also imagine being with Kenma, as they were now, side-by-side, best friends and something a little bit more that was left unsaid.
And maybe leaving it that way was for the best.
Kuroo never wanted to put pressure on Kenma. He never wanted him to think that Kuroo was more or less, that Kenma himself was more or less than any other people. Kenma was, and always would be, the single most important person in Kuroo’s life. And a love confession wasn’t going to change that.
So why let it?
They boarded the train and rode the commensurate six stops to the transfer station, then rode another four stops to Bokuto’s. All the while, Kenma huddled close to Kuroo, console in his hands, and Kuroo allowed Kenma to share in his warmth, to cuddle up against his coat. Kuroo resisted the urge to unbutton his jacket and slide Kenma in, but he couldn’t help blushing at the thought of covering Kenma in his own clothes, of zipping up the jacket and holding them close together.
He was so caught up in thinking about how Kenma would feel in his arms that he almost missed their stop; it was thanks to Kenma, who pushed away when the train stopped moving and went to the door, that Kuroo remembered at all.
“Should we get something as a gift?” Kenma asked.
“What?” Kuroo said.
Kenma gestured to the storefront windows, which shone merrily in the early evening light. “A gift,” he repeated patiently. “Should we get a gift?”
Kuroo blinked; Kenma’s hair shone in the fairy lights that were strung across the the window of the nearest shop. It glittered, bronze and gold, and Kuroo’s breath caught.
“Kuro.” Kenma reached out and pinched him, hard, on the arm. Kuroo yelped.
“Kenma!” he shouted. “What the hell!”
“A gift, Tetsurou.” Oh. Kenma was using his real name. How long had he been spacing out?
It was all Kenma’s fault, anyway. Damn his pretty hair and his pretty eyes and his pretty…
“Should we bring a gift.”
“What?! Uh, no.” Kuroo shook his head. “Bo’s parents are visiting his sister in Osaka.” He grinned. “Unless beer is an appropriate—ow!”
Kenma’s scowl deepened; Kuroo rubbed at the back of his hand, where Kenma had swatted at him. “You don’t need to be drinking, Kuro,” he grumbled. “Besides, Konoha or Tora or someone is sure to bring enough. We don’t need to add to the collection.”
Kuroo pouted, but only for a moment. “Fine,” he said, “then we can just go to Bokuto’s, I guess.”
Kenma frowned, but didn’t reply. Instead, he continued to lead Kuroo out of the plaza and towards Bokuto’s apartment building. Once again, Kuroo was struck by how forward Kenma was being, how…in charge…he seemed. Kuroo’s heart beat faster, beat louder, and he suddenly felt a little light-headed.
Focus, Tetsurou. Get to the party. Have fun. Get out. Confess.
You’ve got this.
The walk to Bokuto’s building was thankfully short, but Kuroo’s legs dragged. All his overthinking from before had exhausted him, and he couldn’t stop thinking about Kenma, and how he might respond should Kuroo confess.
Should he do it? Should he not? Should he run away to America?
Fuck. At this point, any and all options sounded doable.
“I can’t believe Koutarou lives in a building with a doorman,” Kenma grumbled. They walked up to the door of the tall, concrete building. Kenma nodded to the guard at the entrance. “We’re going up to the Bokuto apartment,” he informed the guard. “Room 614.”
The doorman nodded. “You’re on the list?” he asked.
Kenma dipped his head in agreement. “Kozume and Kuroo,” he replied.
The guard scanned the list, then turned and buzzed the door open. They walked through the marble lobby, Kuroo following Kenma and silently gawking.
“Must be nice to have money,” Kenma commented.
“Only one with a place big enough to host,” Kuroo countered. “And with absent parents.”
Kenma shivered. “Can you imagine my parents hosting a Fukurōdani-Nekoma party?” he deadpanned.
“Your dad and Bo would get along great,” Kuroo replied immediately, ringing for the elevator. “Konoha would without a doubt try and flirt with your mother, though.”
Kenma’s snort of disgust made Kuroo laugh, and finally, slowly, he began to relax. The elevator doors opened; they stepped in, and Kuroo pressed the button for the sixth floor. They rode up in silence, but it was much more relaxed now, and Kuroo could feel the tension leave his body with each passing floor.
This was gonna be okay. Whatever happened—if he decided to confess to Kenma tonight or not—whatever the night held, it would all be fine.
All of it.
Soon enough, they got to the Bokuto apartment door. Kuroo raised his hand to knock. “You ready?” he asked Kenma.
Kenma shrugged. “No,” he answered, fingers clutching his handheld, “but I'll survive.” He frowned. “Just don’t do anything too crazy, okay, Kuro? I don’t want to have to lie to your dad again.”
“Kenma!” Kuroo groaned. “That was one time!”
“It was three times,” Kenma reminded him, “and I am sure he knew I was lying every time.”
“Well, since you asked,” Kuroo grinned, knocking on the door, “I promise to behave myself as best I can tonight.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” it sounded like Kenma muttered in return, but before Kuroo could answer, the door flung open, and there stood Bokuto, his cheeks flushed and his eyes blown wide.
“Tetsu!” he exclaimed. “And KenKen! You guys made it! I was so worried! ”
Kuroo and Kenma exchanged a glance. Kuroo could tell what Kenma was thinking:
Bokuto’s drunk. He’s drunk and already sappy.
“Tetsu?” Kuroo asked.
“KenKen?” Kenma asked. His eyes flashed. He put his handheld away and took a step forward, but right as he was about to get into Bokuto’s face, Akaashi stepped smoothly between them.
“Good evening, Kozume, Kuroo-san,” he said, ever the pinnacle of politeness, that Akaashi. “We were getting worried. Kou has been texting you almost nonstop for two hours.”
Kuroo resisted the urge to take out his phone.
“My phone’s off,” Kenma said, stepping past Bokuto and Akaashi and into the apartment. “Keiji, is there anything non-alcoholic to drink? I’d like to feel my face tomorrow.”
“Kuroo!” Bokuto moaned, tugging him into the apartment. “Bro!” he exclaimed, latching onto Kuroo in a huge bear hug. “You’re here! You’re here and you brought KenKen!”
Yup, definitely tipsy.
Kuroo laughed and patted his back. “Good to see you too, buddy,” he replied, extracting himself from Bokuto’s grasp. “Sorry it took us so long. I got a little sidetracked.”
“It’s okay!” Bokuto said, slinging an arm around Kuroo’s shoulders instead and steering him inside. “You’re here now, and that’s what matters!”
Bokuto let Kuroo take off his shoes and trade them for the slippers Bokuto had put in the genkan. The whole time, though, Kuroo could feel Bokuto’s gaze on him.
“I’m not going anywhere, Bo,” he said, setting his shoes on the rack. “I just got here, and Kenma’s already disappeared. So I’ll be here for at least…”
He had gotten to his feet and was looking at Bokuto. Bokuto, though, only seemed to be staring at Kuroo. His eyes, in reality, were directed to a point on the ceiling above Kuroo’s head.
“Bro…” Kuroo said, turning and following Bokuto’s line of vision, “what are you…”
Oh.
There, hanging in the doorway to the apartment, was a sprig of mistletoe.
And Bokuto was staring at it, and at Kuroo, and grinning.
Grinning.
Why was he…
“Uh, wait, Bo?” Kuroo said hastily, taking a step away from the doorway. “Did you and Akaashi break up or something?”
Bokuto cocked his head to the side. “What? No, of course not!”
Kuroo frowned. He looked up at the mistletoe, and then back at Bokuto. “Then why…” he started, jerking his thumb up at the mistletoe.
“Ah! That! Yeah.” Bokuto immediately began to babble. He tugged at his hair. “We—well, you see, Keiji and I wanted to do it, and well it was maybe more of my idea than his, but he didn’t really want to do it, or at least he thought it was kind of dumb, but you know…”
“We just wanted to hang it for fun, Kuroo-san,” Akaashi cut in smoothly, sliding under Bokuto’s arm and giving him a peck on the cheek. “Since we’re the only couple here.”
His sapphire eyes felt like lasers, boring right into Kuroo’s soul. Kuroo’s heart thundered in his chest.
Did…did Akaashi know? Did Bokuto?
Bo it was hard to tell. He was friendly to everyone, and always thought everyone should be together so that they were as happy as he and Akaashi were (yeah, Kuroo’s brief thought that Bo and Akaashi had broken up was borderline delusional).
But Akaashi…
Those deep blue eyes cut through any fog of misdirection Kuroo might hope to throw between them.
And right now, those eyes were telling him…
Shit.
Okay, okay. Misdirect. Or, at least, try to.
“You are the only couple here!” Kuroo laughed, running his hand through his hair again. “Anyone else who kisses under the mistletoe would do it just for laughs!”
“Would they now?” Akaashi raised an eyebrow, and Kuroo shivered. He had to get away from Bo and his all-knowing boyfriend, and fast.
“Oh!” Kuroo shouted, blindly pointing in any direction other than the one Bokuto and Akaashi stood in. “There’s…” He squinted. Who was over there? Who was it…
“There’s Lev,” he added, feeling his heart sink. Why couldn’t it be literally anyone else? Where was Kai when he needed him?
“Oh,” Akaashi said, that eyebrow still raised. “Looks like he’s talking to Kenma, too.”
Was he? Shit, Kuroo really needed to wear his glasses!
Sure enough, tucked under Lev’s arm, so tiny it was in fact hard to see him, was Kenma. He was playing his device while Lev talked animatedly, gesturing wildly at something that could only be in his imagination.
“Perfect,” Kuroo said, “I need to go ask Kenma something anyway.”
“I’m sure you do,” Akaashi said.
“Keiji!” Bo admonished him.
“See you two owls later!” Kuroo chirped, and scurried away. He was going to have to talk to Lev now, that much was clear. But Kenma, too? He didn’t know if his heart could handle it. Now that he knew Bokuto and Akaashi had set up all the mistletoe for them. Those two menaces! One of these days he was gonna…
“I can’t believe Yaku-san said no, Kenma!” Lev was saying as Kuroo made his way over to them. “He thought I was joking, and said he’d have to stand on someone’s shoulders to b e able to kiss me!”
“Maybe he was nervous too, Lev,” Kenma murmured, fingers flying as he worked the controllers. “Damn,” he swore. “Kuro, you made me lose.”
“Kenma,” Kuroo whined, “I just got here! How could I be the one who made you lose?”
“I could hear you coming and it distracted me,” Kenma frowned. He started the level over and put on his best Kenma ‘I’m ignoring everything and everyone’ face.
Kuroo couldn’t help but smile. He did love that face.
“Kuroo-san,” Lev said, tugging on Kuroo’s sleeve, “why did Bokuto-san put up mistletoe if he didn’t want us to use it?”
Kuroo nearly choked on absolutely nothing. “Wha—what about the mistletoe?” he asked.
Lev pointed to a sprig that had been set up in the doorway to the kitchen. “I was getting something to drink,” he explained, “and as I was passing by Yaku-san in the doorway, I tried to lean down and kiss him, and he got mad and kicked me!” He grimaced at the memory. “When I tried to explain there was mistletoe hanging right above us, he got even madder and said if I was the last person on earth, he still wouldn’t kiss me!” Big tears formed in the corners of Lev’s eyes, and Kuroo felt sick to his stomach. “Why not, Kuroo-san?” He asked. “Why wouldn’t Yaku-san kiss me?”
Kuroo’s mouth opened and closed, but he didn’t know what to say. Why hadn’t Yaku wanted Lev to kiss him? It was pretty clear they liked each other, even if Yaku denied it.
“I think that—” Kuroo began, but Kenma, surprisingly, cut him off.
“Did you ask Yaku’s permission?” Kenma asked.
Lev blinked. “Did—did I what?” he said.
“Ask permission.” Kenma’s fingers continued to work the controllers.
“Well…” Lev trailed off. “No,” he admitted, “I guess that I didn’t.”
“Then there you go,” Kenma shrugged. “If you want to kiss someone, you should…ask permission.” His eyes flickered, ever so briefly, up to Kuroo, and Kuroo thought his heart was going to freeze on the spot.
“But it’s mistletoe!” Lev protested. “Shouldn’t you just go up to the person you like and…mwah!” He made a kissing gesture at Kuroo, who shoved him away.
“Consent is sexy,” Kenma commented. He sighed. “You two keep making me lose,” he added. “I’m gonna go hide with Keiji for a bit.”
“O—okay, Kenma-san!” Lev called after him.
“O—o—okay, K—Ken,” Kuroo stammered. He was clutching his heart, which felt like it might beat right out of his chest.
“Kuroo-san?” Lev was now eyeing him closely. “Are you okay?”
Was…was…was he…
“Yeah, Lev!” Kuroo shouted. “I’m definitely very okay! In fact…” He looked around wildly. “There’s Kai!” he exclaimed. “I—I gotta go see Kai.”
Kuroo stumbled off, Kenma’s words still ringing in his ears.
If you want to kiss someone, you should…ask permission.
Consent is sexy.
Was that it? Was that all there was to it?
Could Kuroo just…ask?
And would Kenma just…say yes?
He didn’t know. He didn’t know. Why did Kenma look at him when he said it? Kenma never took his eyes off his game! Why would he look up at Kuroo right as he said If you want to kiss someone, you should ask permission.
Why? Why did it do it?
Fuck it all, Kuroo didn’t know.
He didn’t know as he stood there, listening to Kai worrying about their entrance exams.
He didn’t know as Tora slipped a beer into his hand and convinced him to play Konpira Fune Fune with him.
He didn’t know as he lost badly at Konpira Fune Fune.
He didn’t know as he watched Kenma and Akaashi, snuggled up together on Bokuto’s couch, talking quietly as Kenma played his game and Akaashi watched.
Kenma looked so cute, all curled up against Akaashi. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes narrowed in concentration, and he was doing that thing where he stuck out his tongue, just a little bit, to help him focus.
Kuroo felt his heart melting at the sight. He wanted to be the one Kenma curled up to. He wanted to be the one Kenma shared secrets with—even more so than he already did. He wanted to be the one who could put an arm around Kenma and hold him close.
He wanted…
He wanted it all.
And he wanted it all with Kenma.
He said no to the next game of Konpira Fune Fune. Instead, he chatted quietly with Kai, then played daifugo with members of Fukurōdani. He lost badly, because he couldn’t focus, but he endured Konoha’s teasing when he saw Kenma smile at Kuroo’s progressively terrible hands.
It was close to midnight when Kenma found him, hanging out in the kitchen, helping Bokuto clean up some dishes.
“I’m ready to go, Kuro.” Kenma yawned, and he looked so like a little kitten, all big eyes and sharp teeth Kuroo half-expected a tail to wave behind him.
Kuroo looked at Bokuto, who grinned at him and waved. “Thanks for your help, Tetsu,” he said. “Keiji and I can handle the rest.”
“Keiji went to bed, Koutarou,” Kenma informed them.
“Do you want me to stay and help a few more minutes?” Kuroo asked.
“Nah.” Bokuto shook his head. “Konoha still here? I’ll get him to help me. Or Lev? He owes me, after all.”
“I don’t—” Kuroo started.
“Lev and Yaku left a bit ago,” Kenma said. His eyes flickered to Kuroo again, confirmation of an unspoken question.
Lev asked permission.
“Damn!” Bokuto threw the sponge into the sink. “Then you two should definitely head home!” He gave Kuroo an exaggerated wink, one that made Kuroo roll his eyes. “Let me know how it goes,” he added in a not-so-silent whisper.
“Kuro,” Kenma said, and Kuroo jumped.
“Ah, okay, Ken, coming! Sorry, Bo, yeah, I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“See you two soon, then!” Bokuto grinned. “And Merry Christmas!”
“Merry Christmas!” Kuroo replied, pulling his friend into a quick hug. Bokuto slapped him on the back before breaking the hug.
“Be safe getting home,” he told him.
“Bye, Koutarou,” Kenma said, already halfway out the kitchen door.
“Yeah, Bo, see you soon.” Kuroo waved and followed Kenma to the genkan. Kenma was already getting his shoes on; Kuroo saw that Tora and Fukunaga were still there, dozing on the couch, next to Konoha, who was scrolling through his phone. Washio had been sitting next to him, but he got up and headed to the kitchen, clapping Kuroo on the shoulder first and saying goodnight to them both. Kuroo got his shoes on and followed Kenma to the front door, but nearly fell over him as Kenma stopped suddenly.
“Kenma?” he said. “What’s the matter?”
Kenma pointed up at the mistletoe in the doorway. “I can’t believe Koutarou and Keiji hung this up all over the apartment as a joke.” He frowned. “Who would fall for this anyway, other than Lev?”
“Right!” Kuroo guffawed, a little bit too loudly. “Who would fall for it other than Lev?”
“Right,” Kenma answered, but there was a catch, a hitch in his words, one that caused Kuroo to stop and think and…
Now.
The time was now.
He needed to know.
Suddenly, the time was now and he needed to know.
“Kenma,” Kuroo said: desperately, urgently. He could feel the heat building in his core and spreading to his limbs. He needed to do, to say, something, anything, that would tell him, once and for all, how Kenma felt.
“What is it, Kuroo?” Kenma looked up at him, golden eyes large and flickering in the low lights of the genkan. Kuroo could see his reflection in them, could see the fear, the worry, but also…
He could see the hope.
And unless he was misinterpreting, he was pretty sure the hope wasn’t just his alone.
“Can I…can…can I…”
“Can you what?” Kenma sighed. “It’s getting late, Kuro. I’d like to go home if you’re not—”
“Kiss you!” Kuroo blurted out. Kenma’s eyes went impossibly wide; a blush bloomed over his cheeks. “Can I…can I kiss you.”
For one heart-stopping, earth-shattering moment, Kuroo didn’t know how to respond. He paused, and took a breath. He closed his eyes, inhaled, counted to eight, then exhaled, then opened his eyes.
Kenma was still there, still watching him, still blushing but with that one raised eyebrow that made Kuroo tremble. He took a breath; Kuroo held his.
“Say…say it again,” Kenma whispered. His fingers twitched, but his game console was in his hoodie pocket. He leaned slightly closer to Kuroo; Kuroo’s heart leapt.
He let out his breath, and inhaled again, standing up straight and looking down at Kenma: his best friend, his love, his life.
“Kenma,” Kuroo said, his voice quiet, but stronger than he’d ever heard it, “can I kiss you?”
Kenma’s blush deepened, but the hint of a smile told Kuroo everything he needed to know.
“I thought you’d never ask,” Kenma said.
He reached up, took Kuroo by the lapels of his polo shirt, and dragged him down and into what Kuroo could only describe as a fierce, passionate kiss.
Their teeth clanged; but Kenma just grunted and yanked Kuroo closer, lips pressing fervently to Kuroo’s, body inching closer and closer to Kuroo’s. Kuroo’s entire body lit up from the force of the kiss; it was all that he had wanted—the feel of Kenma’s mouth on his, the knowledge that Kenma cared for him as he cared for Kenma.
Kenma. Kenma wanted to kiss him.
Kenma wanted to kiss him.
His arms wrapped around Kenma’s shoulders, gently drawing them closer, but Kenma just grunted again and looped one leg around Kuroo’s thighs. His hands reached up into Kuroo’s hair, fingers tangling in the knotted strands. Mouths and bodies, suddenly grasping and greedy, slotted together as two pieces of a puzzle that have finally, finally found the right connection.
Kenma’s lips, his arms, his body:
For years, Kuroo had felt most at home when he was close to Kenma. Whether it be at volleyball practice, eating lunch on the school rooftop, or hanging out in Kenma’s room, watching TV or playing games, Kuroo had always felt at home when they were together.
But now, like this:
Kenma’s mouth, his arms, his body:
Kenma felt like home.
Commissioned Artwork by RhapeSeuhans
Kuroo groaned a little when Kenma’s tongue slipped between his lips. He turned, and backed Kenma against the genkan wall. Kenma hopped up into his arms; Kuroo caught his ass with one hand—and, what the shit, Kenma’s cheeks fit in one of Kuroo’s hands?
He leaned in, devouring Kenma as eagerly as Kenma devoured him. They made out heavily, there in Bokuto’s genkan, Kenma in Kuroo’s arms and Kuroo with his tongue down Kenma’s throat.
Gods, it felt so good, so right, to finally have Kenma like this, after so much time. What had Kuroo been doing, anyway? Why had he waited so long?
He’d been so worried about Kenma liking him, and Kenma was currently the one mashing their mouths together and trying to climb him like a tree.
“You’re laughing,” Kenma accused, breaking the kiss.
“So I am,” Kuroo replied, cackling in between kisses.
“You’re not supposed to be laughing while you’re kissing me.”
“And you’re not supposed to be kissing me at all,” Kuroo retorted without thinking.
“What—” Kenma narrowed his eyes, but didn’t release himself from Kuroo’s hold, “what exactly does that mean?”
“Just that—” Kuroo paused. Gently, he set Kenma down, but only so he could cup Kenma’s cheeks with both hands and hold him tenderly. “I never thought that you could feel for me the way that I feel for you,” he murmured. “That I would be destined to hold my unrequited feelings close to my heart forever. That I would live a life by your side as your friend, not your boyfriend, even though that’s what I wanted more than anything. That I…”
Kenma tugged him back and shut him up with another fierce kiss, one that had Kuroo seeing stars and going weak in the knees. Kuroo moaned—maybe a little bit too loudly with people still around, but oh well—and he could feel Kenma smiling against his lips.
“And so, Kuro,” he murmured, his breath warm and oh so desirable in Kuroo’s mouth, “what have you learned tonight?”
Kuroo grinned and let his lips ghost Kenma’s once more. “I’ve learned that, if I want something, all I have to do is ask.”