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Kuroo can tell something's off. Kenma's grumpier than usual, grumbling under his breath, snapping at little things that normally would only annoy him. Kuroo's unsure if he should try to figure out what's wrong or give Kenma his space, so he ends up hovering awkwardly around him for most of the morning. Kenma doesn't try to speak to him, or acknowledge him at all, so in the end he just leaves for class after telling Kenma to call him if he needs him.
The call comes not two hours later.
"Kuro . . ."
"What's wrong?" Kuroo asks immediately, knowing that tone of voice.
Kenma falters for a moment, mumbling something Kuroo can't quite make out.
"What was that?"
"My PSP . . . the battery died," Kenma mutters.
"So get the charger," Kuroo says, not entirely sure why Kenma had to call him for that. "It's in your backpack still, right?"
"Um. I sort of . . . fell."
Kuroo immediately stiffens. He stops dead in the hallway, nearly causing another student to run into him. He quickly apologizes, though the student ignores him, turning away then to head for the end of the hall where the exit is.
"What do you mean you fell? Are you okay? What happened? Why didn't you call for an ambulance?!"
He can practically hear Kenma rolling his eyes. "It's not that serious, Kuro, calm down," he says. "I just . . . I think I passed out for a second. I feel really weak. I might be sick."
"You're sick? Why didn't you tell me?" Suddenly, Kenma's moodiness makes sense. Kuroo slaps himself on the forehead, wondering how he didn't realize it before.
"I didn't think it was a big deal."
"Kenma!" Kuroo's already walking toward his car, glad he splurged and bought one as trying to take a bus or train would take too long. "I'm coming home right now, and I'm bringing you soup. Try to get into bed if you can."
" . . . Don't you have another cla—"
"Don't argue with me!" Kuroo grinds his teeth together. He realizes that his anger is irrational. Kenma didn't show any signs of being sick, but Kuroo still feels as though he should've known. They've been best friends since they were children, been dating for three months. He knows Kenma nearly as well as he knows himself. He should've known. He should've never left.
"Kuro," Kenma murmurs.
"Just get in bed, okay? I'll be there soon."
"Okay . . ."
Kuroo hangs up, tossing his phone on the passenger's side seat before gripping the wheel with both hands. He shakes his head to clear it, as he pulls out of the university parking lot and heads toward the nearest grocery store. He buys the ingredients for some soup, realizing it'd probably be better than waiting for take-out or buying a canned soup. He buys everything quickly before jumping back in the car and heading for the apartment.
Kenma's on the couch when he gets home. Kuroo frowns faintly, toeing off his shoes before crossing over to look down at him.
"I told you to go to bed."
Kenma's eyes don't leave his phone. He's squinting at the screen, like the glare is giving him a headache, and there's a faint sheen of sweat on his forehead. Kuroo shakes his head, reaching down and taking the phone away. Kenma mews softly in protest, but he doesn't try to cling to the phone.
"Bed. Now." Kuroo says, pointing.
Kenma pouts, blinking blearily up at him. "I'm lying down already."
"You'll be more comfortable in bed. Plus, it's darker. Now go. I'm going to start your soup."
Kuroo steps into the kitchen, setting down the phone on the counter along with the bags of groceries. He pulls out a pot and starts to prepare the soup, when he realizes he hasn't heard any movement from the living room. Peering out, he sees Kenma's still on the couch where he left him, arm covering his face to block the light. Sighing, he sets down the knife he was using to cut the vegetables, crossing to stand over Kenma once more.
"Kenma."
"Go away," Kenma mutters.
"Your bed is literally ten steps away. You can make it."
"No, I can't."
"Yes, you can."
"I can't."
"You can."
"Kuro," Kenma whines.
Kuroo sighs. "I forgot how much of a baby you are when you're sick," he says, though not without fondness. He reaches down and shifts his arms beneath Kenma's back and legs, lifting him up in a bridal carry. Kenma immediately wraps his arms around his neck, burying his face in his chest.
"Baby," Kuroo confirms, turning to carry Kenma toward the bedroom. The curtains are already drawn, the light dim, air cool. Kuroo gently sets Kenma down on the bed, pulling down the covers. Kenma starts to crawl beneath them, but Kuroo stops him with his hand on his arm.
"You don't want to sweat through your clothes. Where are your pajamas?"
Kenma makes a listless motion with his hand. Kuroo steps toward the dresser he indicated, opening the second drawer to pull out some shorts and a shirt that's obviously too big for Kenma. Kuroo recognizes it as one of his, and he can't help but smile faintly.
"So that's where this went. I've been looking for this shirt!"
Kenma turns his face away. "You never wear it," he mutters.
"It's fine," Kuroo promises, stepping over to hand the shirt and shorts over to Kenma. "You can wear my clothes whenever you want. They're cute on you." He grins, as Kenma gives him a small glare. There's a flush on his cheeks, but Kuroo can't quite tell if that's because of his compliment or because of the fever.
Kenma starts to pull off his shirt slowly, slipping Kuroo's on over his head afterwards. He does the same with his jeans, kicking them onto the floor before slipping the loose shorts on underneath the shirt. Kuroo gathers up the clothes, setting them in the hamper, before turning toward the door.
"Wait," Kenma says then, blinking at him from the bed.
"You can't play any games," Kuroo says firmly. "They'll make the headache worse."
Kenma shakes his head. "I don't want my game," he admits, turning his gaze down to his hands in his lap.
"Oh." Kuroo stares at him, confused. "What do you want then?"
Kenma hesitates, picking at the edges of his nails. "You," he says finally. He glances up at Kuroo briefly, before his gaze skitters away.
Kuroo's heart beats faster at the admission, and he automatically takes a step toward the bed before remembering the food in the kitchen.
"I'm making you soup," he says helplessly.
Kenma turns his gaze back onto Kuroo, eyes widening slightly, his lower lip puffing in a small pout. Kuroo agonizes for a moment, but in the end he steps forward with a sigh. "Just for a little while," he says. "You need to eat."
Kenma's pout disappears instantly, and he moves over in the bed to make room. Kuroo shakes his head, even as he lies down. Kenma grabs his arm, wrapping it around him before lying down as well, snuggling up to Kuroo's side.
"You should've told me you weren't feeling well this morning," Kuroo admonishes gently. He runs his fingers gently through Kenma's hair.
"You would've stayed home from class."
"Well, yeah. Obviously. You're more important than my classes, Kenma. I can always get notes."
Kenma sighs. "I didn't want to burden you."
"You're not a burden," Kuroo answers immediately. "I love you, Kenma. I want to be here for you, no matter what."
Kenma buries his face in Kuroo's chest. "I love you too," he replies, his voice muffled but still audible.
Kuroo can't help but grin at that. He reaches down to take Kenma's chin, lifting his head in order to press a kiss against his forehead. The skin is damp and much too warm, but the tiny smile Kenma gives him helps stifle the worry he feels tightening his chest.
"Now go to sleep," Kuroo says. "I'll stay until you do. I promise."
Kenma nods. He lays his head on Kuroo's chest once more, his arm coming up to wrap around Kuroo's waist, holding onto his shirt in a loose grasp. His leg moves over one of Kuroo's as well, effectively trapping him to the bed. Kuroo chuckles softly.
"You're not going to let me go anywhere, huh?"
Kenma shakes his head.
"Such a baby," Kuroo complains jokingly, dropping his chin to kiss the top of Kenma's head. "And hey . . . I'm sorry about snapping at you earlier."
"'sfine," Kenma mumbles.
"No, it's not. You didn't deserve that. I shouldn't have—"
"Kuro." Kenma lifts his head again, frowning at him.
Kuroo swallows hard, biting his lip. "What?"
"Shut up." Kenma leans forward to kiss him gently.
Despite knowing he could very well get sick himself, Kuroo returns it, cradling the back of Kenma's head with his hand. When Kenma pulls away, he gives Kuroo a pointed look that's effective even with his glazed, watery eyes.
"You have nothing to apologize for. Got it?"
Kuroo nods, his chest aching. "Got it."
"Sleeping now," Kenma says, laying his head back down.
Kuroo stays quiet this time, running his fingers gently through Kenma's hair again, until he feels and hears his breathing deepen in sleep. He knows he probably should extract himself from Kenma in order to return to the kitchen, but Kuroo doesn't like the thought of disturbing him.
I'll finish making the soup later. A nap sounds good, actually . . .
Closing his eyes, he holds Kenma's warm body closer and listens to the sound of his even breaths, until he drifts off as well.