Work Text:
BOOM
Kenma startled awake at the sound of thunder crashing outside his window. He blearily looked towards his nightstand and the alarm clock flashing twelve. He yawned and stretched, dropping the handheld game he must have fallen asleep playing into his blanket and refocused on his alarm. Flashing twelve. He furrowed his brows momentarily before frantically grabbing at his phone. Eight thirty. He had a class at nine and it usually took a half hour for him to get to campus. Why hadn’t Kuroo woken him up, when he was usually up earlier than Kenma? He sighed and let his head fall back against the pillow, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.
“That internship. He probably left already. He was excited…” he grumbled into his hand. He sighed again and forced himself out of bed. Maybe he could make it if he ran…he laughed at his own thought. He’d get there when he’d get there.
He grabbed his hoodie off his desk chair, giving it a yank when it got stuck, feeling a bit of resistance as it came free, and pulled it over his head. Thankfully, he had listened to Kuroo the night before and his bag was already packed, so he slipped his game into the bag and his phone into his hoodie pocket and made his way to the door. He heard something clunk against the ground but ignored it; he didn’t have time to spare.
He managed to make it to his class just five minutes late. He stood outside the door for another minute or two, trying to debate if it was worth the effort of actually going in late and drawing attention to himself, when he felt a hand slap against his shoulder.
“Hey, hey, are you late, too, Kenma?” Taketora asked with a smile, resting his hand on the other’s shoulder.
“Clearly,” Kenma muttered and reached up to swat his hand away.
Taketora laughed, letting him go as he reached for the handle and motioned for Kenma to follow him inside.
They quietly slipped into seats in the back and, once settled, Kenma reached into the pocket of his hoodie for his phone. He frowned when his hand met empty air, his finger finally catching on the seam and a jagged hole. He thought back to the clunk he heard in his dorm and groaned, dropping his head onto his desk. No phone. He was totally isolated today.
“You okay, man?” Taketora hissed next to him. Well, maybe not as isolated as he’d like to be. He heard another crack of thunder boom outside as it began to rain again. He was almost certain he had forgotten his umbrella, too.
“Today sucks,” Kenma groaned into the table, refusing to answer Taketora’s inevitable follow-up questions.
After one of the longest classes in his life, Kenma allowed himself to be dragged by Taketora to the cafeteria. He pulled out his portable game and started playing, while Yaku, Fukunaga, and Kai joined their table.
“Where’s Kuroo?” Yaku asked around a bite of food, narrowing his eyes as his attention was pulled by some sort of disturbance happening across the cafeteria.
“His internship started,” Kenma grunted, eyes never moving from his game, ignoring the sounds of someone shouting.
“Huh. I thought his internship was only Mondays and Wednesdays. Today’s Thursday?” Fukunaga asked, holding up his phone to show the date.
“He was gone when I got up this morning,” Kenma shrugged.
“Lev watch–” Yaku began but it was too late. As Lev approached the table, he tripped, sending his plate of rice and vegetables flying. Some of the food overshot the table and landed on Kenma’s game. He sent Lev a withering glare as the other began apologizing to his friends and offering to clean. “This is why you need to pay more attention,” Yaku grumbled, handing his napkins over to Lev.
His afternoon classes passed in a boring blur, and Kenma found himself reaching for his nonexistent phone more than once, wanting to text Kuroo and see how his day was going. He hadn’t realized how much he was going to miss seeing him around campus on his internship days.
Finally his last class ended, and Kenma exited the building just as the rain stopped. His stomach protested a bit as he decided to head straight back to their dorm, not wanting to risk picking up food if Kuroo had already gotten something for them. He figured that if nothing else, they could order delivery, but it would be better than having too much food, especially since he hardly ate.
He slammed the door open, relieved to finally be done with his day. “I’m home!” he called into the quiet dorm. He took his shoes off and put them next to Kuroo’s, which were thrown haphazardly on the rack…and realized they were in the same position they had been in the day before. Had Kuroo worn different shoes today? He straightened and noticed that their umbrella stand still held both umbrellas…and neither were wet. If Kuroo had left before him this morning, and gotten back before him, wouldn’t his umbrella have been wet? Instead, it looked unused. Had he also forgotten his umbrella, like Kenma?
He frowned when he saw his phone on the ground, presumably where it had fallen this morning, and picked it up, noticing a missed call and a couple of missed messages, all from Kuroo.
>> To: Kenma
> Sick. Not going to class today
> Have a good day!
> Dying. Bring home cold meds?
> Food?
> Kenma? Are you mad?
> :(
Kenma’s heart sank as he read the messages. He heard a cough and looked up, seeing a pale, sweaty Kuroo in the doorway to his room. Kuroo scanned Kenma’s arms and Kenma could swear he looked even more miserable. “Welcome home. I…guess you didn’t get my messages?” Kuroo asked hoarsely.
“I…my phone fell out of my pocket this morning,” Kenma explained, a pit growing in his stomach. “I couldn’t get them. Let me just,” Kenma took a step towards the door, reaching for his shoes. “I’ll go get food and meds and…”
Kuroo shook his head, forcing a smile, and waving Kenma over. “I’m feeling better than this morning, really,” he said, though Kenma thought he was lying based on how pale he looked. He slowly walked over to Kuroo and let him drape his arms over his shoulders. “We can just order delivery. Come cuddle with me?” Kenma bit his lip and nodded, gently guiding Kuroo back into his room.
A short time later, food had been delivered and eaten. Kuroo fell asleep quickly, arms and legs wrapped around Kenma. Kenma, however, laid awake, staring into the darkness, feeling terrible. Kuroo had been sick, alone, all day, and Kenma had had no idea. What kind of boyfriend was he to not have even checked on him this morning to see that he’d left? Kenma sighed, frustrated, tears gathering. As the rain fell against the window, he swore he would do better in the future.
BOOM
Kenma startled awake at the sound of thunder crashing outside his window. He blearily looked towards his nightstand and the alarm clock flashing twelve. He yawned and stretched, dropping the handheld game he must have fallen asleep playing into his blanket and refocused on his alarm, and frowned in confusion. Had he fallen asleep in his bed last night? He was almost certain he had been lying with Kuroo…
Then the implications of his alarm clock flashing twelve hit him. He frantically grabbed his phone. Eight thirty. He needed to hurry if he was going to make it to his class in time. Kuroo must have been too excited for his internship to double check that Kenma was awake in time. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and forced himself out of bed.
He grabbed his hoodie off the chair, growling when it got caught. He gave it a yank, feeling a bit of resistance before it came free, and pulled it over his head. He slipped his game into his bag, his phone into his hoodie pocket, and rushed to the door. He heard something clunk against the ground and suddenly got hit with a dizzying feeling of déjà vu. He was still running late, however, so he pushed that thought away and continued towards campus.
He managed to make it to his class just five minutes late. He stood outside the door for another minute or two, trying to debate if it was worth the effort of going in late and stepped to the side, narrowly avoiding a hand landing on his shoulder. He glared up at Taketora, who lowered his hand sheepishly.
“Hey, hey, are you late, too, Kenma?” Taketora asked with a smile, shrugging slightly since his gesture had been rebuked.
“Clearly,” Kenma muttered, frowning. He’d known that Taketora was going to touch his shoulder. How had he known that?
Taketora laughed and reached for the handle, motioning for Kenma to follow him.
They quietly slipped into seats in the back and, once settled, Kenma reached into the pocket of his hoodie for his phone, feeling an urge to text Kuroo. He frowned when his hand met empty air, his finger finally catching on the seam and a jagged hole. With another wave of déjà vu, he realized his phone must have fallen out when he was leaving, and he’d be isolated today. Hopefully Kuroo wouldn’t try to get in touch…he started to feel anxiety settle in his stomach.
“You okay, man?” Taketora hissed next to him.
“Yeah. It’s about to thunder,” Kenma responded just before he heard the crack.
“Woah. Are you psychic or something?” Taketora laughed, but Kenma ignored him, dropping his head onto the table. This was going to be a long day.
Lunch finally came and Kenma found himself being dragged by Taketora to the cafeteria. The feeling of déjà vu was stronger than ever as the tables around them filled in, and Yaku, Fukunaga, and Kai joined theirs.
Kenma pulled out his game. He looked like he was focused on what was happening on the screen, but he used his peripheral vision to keep track of what was going on around him. He waited, sure that Yaku was about to–
“Where’s Kuroo?” Yaku asked around a bite of food.
Kenma nodded briefly. Just as he remembered? He shouldn’t have remembered anything and yet everything felt like it was playing out like a movie he had seen a thousand times before. “His internship started,” Kenma grunted, frowning. What was going on?
“Huh. I thought his internship was only Mondays and Wednesdays. Today’s Thursday?” Fukunaga asked in confusion, holding up his phone to show the date.
“He was gone when I got up this morning,” Kenma shrugged. It was Thursday. But hadn’t Thursday…? The sense of déjà vu hit again and Kenma quickly stood up and moved away from the table, much to Fukunaga’s confusion.
Just then he heard Yaku begin, “Lev watch–” but it was too late. Lev approached the table, tripped, sending his plate of rice and vegetables flying. The food overshot the table and landed right where Kenma had been sitting. “Nice reflexes,” Yaku stared at Kenma in disbelief. “Maybe you should have been a libero with reflexes like that,” he teased, before turning his attention to an apologetic Lev. “This is why you need to pay more attention,” he grumbled, handing his napkins over.
Kenma watched the scene in front of him play out, the knot of anxiety in his stomach growing even more. This was all familiar, why was it so familiar? Something still seemed off. Was he forgetting something? Frowning, he turned and left the cafeteria, needing to be alone and breathe.
His afternoon classes passed slowly, and Kenma found himself reaching for his nonexistent phone more than once, feeling the strong need to message Kuroo and see how he was doing. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, something that he should have known but, unfortunately, he was cut off. Why hadn’t he stopped to see what had fallen? It took everything in him to not leave halfway through his classes. He was sure it was just his anxiety and everything was fine.
Finally, his last class ended, and Kenma exited the building just as the rain stopped. He considered going straight back to the dorm, despite his growling stomach, but decided he’d pick up some food from a convenience store along the way. He didn’t like picking up dinner if he and Kuroo hadn’t coordinated; he ate so little that it seemed a waste if they had too much left over. But something told him that he’d regret it if he didn’t.
The second he opened the door to his dorm, food in hand, he got hit with the strongest sense of déjà vu yet. “I’m…home,” he called out, voice faltering as he noticed that Kuroo’s shoes hadn’t moved since yesterday and his umbrella was still in the stand, absolutely dry. His phone lay on the ground where it had fallen this morning, and his heart sank as he read the missed texts from Kuroo.
He looked up just in time to see Kuroo come into the doorway and cough. He looked pale, sweaty, and more miserable than Kenma had ever seen him. “Welcome home. I…guess you didn’t get my messages?” Kuroo asked hoarsely.
“I…my phone fell out of my pocket this morning,” Kenma explained, the pit in his stomach absolutely gnawing at him. “I did bring food,” he said, holding up the bag. He took a step towards the door, reaching for his shoes. “I’ll go get meds and…”
Kuroo shook his head and gave a forced smile as he waved him over. “I’m feeling better than this morning, really,” he said. Kenma walked over to Kuroo and let him drape his arms over his shoulders. “We’ll eat what you bought and then I’ll get some more sleep. I’ll be fine in the morning. Will you cuddle with me until I’m asleep?” Kenma bit his lip and nodded.
Once they were in bed, Kuroo fell asleep quickly, laying against Kenma. Kenma’s anxiety kept him awake, however, yelling at him. He’d known something was wrong and didn’t do anything and as a result, Kuroo had been sick and alone all day. The word "again" floated through his head like a specter, mocking him. What kind of boyfriend was he to not have even checked on him? Kenma sighed, frustrated, tears gathering. As the rain fell against the window, he swore he would do better in the future.
BOOM
Kenma startled awake at the sound of thunder crashing outside his window. He stared at his alarm clock, flashing twelve, taunting him. He was certain that he had been laying with Kuroo the previous night and Kuroo was definitely too sick to have carried him to bed. Or had he been? What day was it? He grabbed his phone and opened it, seeing that it was both Thursday and also way past the time his alarm should have gone off. He was going to be late. Kuroo had probably gotten up early in excitement for his internship and forgotten to check on him. Right?
He got out of bed and reached for his hoodie on the chair, but it was caught. He gave it a yank, feeling a bit of resistance before it came free and pulled it over his head. He slipped his game into his bag, his phone into his hoodie pocket, and rushed to the door. He heard something clunk against the ground and stopped dead in his tracks, a stone settling in his stomach. He slowly turned around, shoving his hand in his hoodie pocket, and discovered his phone on the ground at the same time he felt the hole. He picked up his phone and checked the display again. Still Thursday. Still late. No messages.
Foreign feeling memories, almost like another life, rushed through him then and he stared at Kuroo’s closed door. It beckoned him, so he quietly walked over and gently opened it. There he was, curled up in bed, clearly not at his internship. Which, Kenma slowly realized, he shouldn’t have been. It was Thursday and the internship was Mondays and Wednesdays. Kenma watched for a moment, confirming that he wasn’t awake yet, but Kenma could see that he was pale, with a sheen of sweat on his forehead. He carefully closed the door and opened his messages.
>> To: Taketora
>Skipping today. Take notes for me.
>> From: Taketora
>Everything okay? Did you lose power from the storm?
>> To: Taketora
>Yes
He snapped his phone shut, ignoring Taketora’s further questions, and grabbed an umbrella. If he was quick, he could get food and cold meds before Kuroo woke up and was alone for too long.
He returned to the dorm just as Kuroo’s first two texts, telling him he’d be missing class and to have a good day, came through. Kenma smiled, relieved that he’d made it in time. He quickly made his way to Kuroo’s room
“Morning, Kuro,” he said, smiling when Kuroo jumped in surprise.
“Kenma?” he choked out, dropping his phone onto his blanket. “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
Kenma shook his head and held out a bottle of water and a blister pack of cold meds, both of which Kuroo gratefully took.
“You’re sick. I stayed home to take care of you.” He gently pushed Kuroo back down into a laying position, placing an ice pack on his forehead.
Kuroo smiled and closed his eyes in relief. “Cuddle?” Kenma nodded, though Kuroo couldn’t see, and crawled into bed, wrapping his arms around him.
He spent the day taking care of Kuroo, making sure he had plenty of fluids, food, and cuddles. By evening Kuroo’s color had returned and he was looking far less miserable. Their positions had shifted throughout the day and they were currently laying facing each other, Kenma curled into Kuroo’s chest.
“I don’t know how you knew I was sick before I told you,” Kuroo said suddenly, shifting to hold Kenma closer, “but thank you for taking care of me today.”
“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t take care of you?” Kenma muttered, but he smiled. He knew he had finally gotten it right. They fell asleep together, the rain falling gently against the window.
Epilogue:
Kuroo woke up the next morning with a smile, Kenma in his arms, and feeling better thanks to his care. He carefully reached his arm out to grab his phone and silence the alarm before it went off and disturbed Kenma.
He silently laughed at Bokuto’s bright “Happy Friday!” text, likely sent during his ridiculously early morning practice. Kenma shifted and Kuroo looked down, frowning when he realized how pale he looked.
Kenma’s eyes cracked open just as he gave a hoarse cough. “Dammit Kuro, I think you got me sick,” he groaned, closing his eyes again.
Kuroo chuckled and ruffled Kenma’s hair. “Then I guess I’ll be the one to take care of you today, won’t I?”
“Today,” Kenma repeated, barely above a whisper. “What day is it?” he asked before burrowing his face into the pillow.
Kuroo continued petting his hair, smiling down at his perfect boyfriend. “Friday. You don’t have classes today, right?”
“Oh, thank God,” Kenma breathed, sounding relieved, before drifting back to sleep against Kuroo.