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There was a slight breeze in the air, ruffling the loose strands of his hair and the ends of his skirt, but he didn’t mind. He welcomed the breeze in the warm summer air. It made him feel tranquil in this state, as if everything was finally coming together. And it just might be. He was starting his last year of high school and planned to go to university afterwards. He sat up and ruffled his hair that was already falling out of the messy bun. He had decided some time ago that he would allow his hair to grow out, and now its ends touched the middle of his back. With some help, he was able to dye it, but he was due for a touchup, since the brown had grown out to just above his ears.
Kenma sighed and glanced over to where a napping Bokuto was. He was the one who had brought up a picnic in the park, but after getting his hair played with by Kenma and some sunlight he was fast asleep. Kenma found that he didn’t actually mind. They ate a leisurely lunch; prepared by Bokuto, and got to walk around a bit before setting up their blanket to enjoy the sun. Bokuto had been up the night before working on a project for university, but was still thoughtful enough to take Kenma out on a date. Kenma had insisted that he didn’t need to go on one and understood Bokuto’s busy schedule as a student athlete, but Bokuto wouldn’t take no for an answer.
He leaned over and pressed his palm to Bokuto’s hair, running his hands through its soft strands. Bokuto stirred and hummed a bit before opening one golden eye to stare at Kenma. He grinned widely and pressed his head into his palm.
“Sorry, I fell asleep,” he murmured.
“It’s alright. Why don’t you sleep for a bit more?” Kenma said as he laid down next to Bokuto. Bokuto reached out to thread their hands together and nodded silently, probably too comfortable to do much else. Kenma kept one hand running through Bokuto’s hair as he watched his face settle back into that dream-like state he’s become acquainted to.
*
On initial meeting, he believed that Bokuto was a little too much to handle. He was Kuroo’s friend first, and Kenma knew him as the boisterous captain of Fukurodani Academy. On the surface, their personalities were complete opposites, where Bokuto was loud and energetic, always in the spotlight. Kenma was quiet and content to be out of any immediate attention. But slowly, like a moth, Kenma found that he was drawn to the spotlight that Bokuto was always in.
The first time they actually spoke together alone, was at a sleepover at Kuroo’s house. They had interacted multiple times in group settings, but they weren’t much more than a friend of a common friend. It was actually Kenma who had spoken first. It was late into the night and the rest of the guests were already sleeping in Kuroo’s spacious room. Like most nights, Kenma felt that he couldn’t easily fall asleep and made his way to Kuroo’s balcony to enjoy the night air. Except he wasn’t the only one who had the same thought.
“Do you mind if I join you?” Kenma asked.
Bokuto looked up, startled, and his golden eyes were so wide that Kenma could see the moonlight reflecting in them. He shook his head and scooted over to make room for Kenma, who sat silently next to him. They were quiet for a few minutes. Both of them stared up at the night sky and into the stars.
“You couldn’t sleep either,” he said. It wasn’t a question, because that was the only other possible answer for why he found Bokuto out here on Kuroo’s porch.
Bokuto sighed and shook his head. “No, I didn’t want to wake anyone up with my tossing and turning,” he said. In the night air his voice was quieter, lower than what it usually was and Kenma found some sort of comfort in this. “What about you?”
Kenma shrugged. “I’m used to staying up all night and playing video games and I thought the light and the noise would wake someone up in there.”
“Well, you won’t wake up anyone out here,” Bokuto said.
“You don’t mind?”
Bokuto shook his head and rocked back on his feet a couple times. “Not really, but only if you allow me to watch you play and narrate.”
When Kenma looked over at him he saw a childish gleam in his eyes and he couldn’t stop a similar smile to spread over his lips. Bokuto blinked and opened his mouth in a wide ‘O’ shape.
“You look really pretty when you smile, Kenma-kun,” Bokuto rushed out.
“Ah,” Kenma said, as he looked away and busied himself with turning on his handheld. “Please don’t say something so embarrassing like that.”
“But it’s true. I’ve never really seen you smile before, but talking to you like this, it’s like I’m seeing you for the first time, ya know?” he said. “Sorry, if I’m being weird.”
“You’re not being weird. It’s just that I… I’ve never really been complimented by anybody other than Kuro,” he admitted.
Bokuto hummed. “Well, that’s just silly.”
Kenma stilled and glanced over at Bokuto. He was staring up at the sky, but when he felt Kenma’s eyes on him, he turned to face him properly.
“I mean, there’s lots of things I admire about you. I just never got the chance to say it, for example, how I like your style of volleyball.”
“I don’t know what you’re talkin—”
“Of course, you do,” Bokuto said. He was leaning closer to Kenma now, his eyes intense and focused. “The way you play volleyball, I like it. You make it look graceful.”
With all the effort he could muster, Kenma ripped his eyes off of Bokuto and onto his handheld. He started the game where he last saved it and silently let his mind focus back onto the game in hand. Bokuto shuffled closer, not close enough that Kenma was uncomfortable, but enough that he felt the heat radiating off of him. Bit by bit, Kenma relaxed and leaned into that heat, telling himself all the while that it was because of the night chill.
After that night Kenma was certain that it would end just like that, but he was wrong. Whenever they saw each other, Bokuto made sure to talk to Kenma or sit near him. He was taken back, not really sure how to deal with Bokuto in the daylight, but soon he found himself more comfortable with the loud older man. He was generally loud, but whenever he turned to talk to Kenma, there was a gentleness in his voice that Kenma felt himself reveling in.
In the midst of everything, they had exchanged numbers. Late at night while Kenma was playing games his phone would ring. The messages always started the same; Bokuto innocently asking if Kenma was still up and then their conversations would go on for hours, to Kenma’s surprise.
The first time they hung out alone, Kenma found himself a bit nervous. He’s only known Bokuto in the context of their mutual friends. This was stepping out into unknown territory. He didn’t know what he expected, but it wasn’t Bokuto sitting patiently in a café with his hair down and a thick red scarf wrapped around his neck.
“Kenma-kun!” Bokuto beamed as Kenma entered the café. He quickly sat down across from him and removed his coat. “I hope it’s okay that I already ordered for you. I remembered you saying what you liked from this café so I went ahead and got you that.”
“You didn’t have to pay for me.”
“It’s alright, it’s my duty as a senpai,” he placed his palm over his puffed-out chest.
Kenma blushed, but didn’t say anything. They chatted aimlessly about school. It was Bokuto who did most of the talking, and neither of them really minded. Kenma enjoyed the way Bokuto described things so vividly. Bokuto was happy that he had Kenma’s attention. When the food came, they ate while listening to each other. It wasn’t until Kenma was about to walk back home that he realized he hadn’t reach for his phone once the whole time.
“Ah, here, Kenma-kun,” Bokuto said. He unwrapped the scarf from around his neck and had unceremoniously wrapped it around Kenma. “I don’t want you to catch a cold and I live closer.”
He was thankful for the scarf, not because of the warmth, but because it hid the blush building up over his cheeks. “Thank you, Bokuto,” he said. “Also, you can just call me Kenma. There’s no need for honorifics.”
Bokuto beamed. “Of course, stay safe, Kenma.”
“Goodbye, Bokuto.” He went home that night with a strange feeling bubbling up in his chest.
The first person to name that feeling was Kuroo. They were sitting on the roof during the break period and Kuroo had mentioned that they were spending a lot of time together. At first Kenma didn’t know how to respond. They had meet up together multiple times after that and done various things together, but he didn’t have an actual name for it.
He had tried to describe how he felt around Bokuto. A little nervous, but those nerves were always pushed aside whenever he was greeted with Bokuto’s wide smile. He enjoyed their time together and found himself looking forward to the next time they’d see each other. They ended up sitting closer and closer to each other and during their group hangouts, Kenma found himself in the middle of Kuroo and Bokuto.
“Maybe you like him,” Kuroo said absently as he sipped his drink. “You know, butterflies in your stomach and what not.”
“Butterflies,” he murmured. What Kuroo had said were insects moving around in his insides, Kenma chalked it up to anxiety running its course. Then the idea that he liked Bokuto. Did he like him? He never liked someone before, not in the way that Kuroo was meaning it to be.
“Like, do you imagine kissing him while you guys are alone, or holding his hand?”
Kissing Bokuto? The thought of kissing him wasn’t something he could say he has ever frequented, but now since the idea was placed in his head, he couldn’t get it out. What would kissing Bokuto be like? Months ago, he would say that the older would rush it and it wouldn’t be romantic at all, but after getting to know him, Kenma was certain that Bokuto would kiss him gently. And in the next second he felt himself want Bokuto to kiss him gently.
Kenma let out a small gasp and covered his mouth with his hand. “I think I want Bokuto to kiss me.”
Kuroo was silent next to him, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. His best friend and childhood friend almost never took anything seriously, but his eyebrows were furrowed together and he gnawed on his lower lip. The next second he chuckled to himself and smiled. “About time you realized it.”
“What? You knew?” Kenma hissed.
Kuroo laughed. “Of course. If you’ve realized it then you should tell him.”
Kenma shook his head and let his hair cover his face. “I can’t possibly tell him. What if he doesn’t feel the same way.”
Kuroo shrugged. “It’s Bokuto. He’s not the type to let that change anything, plus you never know what his answer could be.”
He let himself mull over Kuroo’s advice for a while. He regularly saw Bokuto, but each time he looked at him through this new lens. He did like it. Everything he did, he found himself enjoying it and silently happy that he was there with him. If Bokuto didn’t feel the same way, then Kenma knew that he would feel crushed by it.
Kuroo said it was better to tell him, than to just hold it in. Kuroo was smart and more worldly than Kenma, if he was suggesting that he should tell Bokuto, then he had to prepare himself for the confession. How would he do it? Write a letter and somehow slip it into his bag? They didn’t even go to the same school, that would be also impossible. He could try baking sweets and offering them to Bokuto, but that didn’t sound much like him.
In the end, he decided to be blunt. He wouldn’t beat around the bush or try to make it more complicated than it was. He liked Bokuto, and he was going to tell him. The next time they agreed to meet up with each other, Kenma spent the whole walk there mentally preparing himself. He wasn’t one for voicing himself, but Kuroo said he needed to be assertive with his feelings.
Somehow, he felt as if he were confessing to some crime and not something as mundane as the realization that he really liked Bokuto. But before Bokuto could even get a word out in greeting, Kenma had bent in a small bow and blurted out: “I think I like Bokuto-san.”
He stood frozen. He had said it, right then and there, right outside the manga café that they were going to. He had confessed to Bokuto in front of all those people on the street that he could feel burning holes into his back. His shoes were the only thing he felt comfortable looking at, and as the silence continued on he was hesitant to glance and see if Bokuto was still there.
“Let’s go inside,” was his only reply. He kept his eyes on the ground as he silently followed Bokuto into a room far away from the rest of the occupied rooms. Kenma sat down and clenched his fists underneath the table.
He made a mistake. He shouldn’t have done that. He was putting pressure on Bokuto and now that he had confessed he was probably making things uncomfortable by staying there.
“I’m sorry,” Kenma whispered. “I shouldn’t have done that, you’re probably disgusted and I—”
“Wait, stop!” Bokuto said. Kenma flinched at how loud he was being, but didn’t risk looking up at him. “I’m not disgusted, Kenma. I could never be disgusted by you. Actually, I’m, uh, I’m really happy.”
“What?!” Kenma glanced up and saw that Bokuto was just as red as he felt. Bokuto tried to cover most of his face with his hand, but he was as red as a tomato. “You’re happy?”
“Yea, I mean, why wouldn’t I be?” Bokuto slid his eyes to meet Kenma’s for a second before lowering his head to the table. “You make me look lame. I’m supposed to be a senpai, but I can’t even confess first. You’re so cool, Kenma.”
Kenma opened his mouth, but closed it a second later. What was he supposed to say? Bokuto was happy that Kenma confessed. Bokuto didn’t think Kenma was disgusting and never wanted to see him again.
“I think you’re pretty cool, Bokuto,” Kenma whispered.
Bokuto shot up a little too quickly and ended up startling Kenma in his movements. “You think so?”
Kenma nodded. “Of course, I mean, sometimes you say really embarrassing things that I could never say and you get along well with everyone.”
“Hey, Kenma,” Bokuto said. His voice was lower, like the first night they spoke on Kuroo’s balcony. “Can I kiss you?”
Bokuto wanted to kiss him. Bokuto was asking to kiss him and Kenma had nodded. Bokuto moved so he could sit closer to Kenma and placed a hand over one of Kenma’s fists. Very slowly he worked it open with his hand until their fingers were gently intertwined. Kenma kept his eyes on their hands as he felt Bokuto’s other hand touch his cheek.
“Look at me,” Bokuto said, his breathe touching Kenma’s cheek. His heart pounded in his chest, but he was able to lock eyes with Bokuto’s own golden ones. “You’re beautiful.”
Kenma was acutely aware that his face was probably very red, but he had no time to ponder on it, because soon Bokuto’s soft lips were pressing gently against his. He breathed into the touch, pressing his lips against Bokuto’s. He felt Bokuto pull away before the kiss could intensify.
“Was that good?”
Kenma nodded. He could feel tears threating to spill out of the cover of his eyes, but he managed to keep them trapped there. “It was good.”
Bokuto smiled. “Can I do it again?”
This time Kenma leaned into him, pressing their lips together. Bokuto was shocked at first, but eased into it, kissing him back. His tongue came out to swipe against Kenma’s bottom lip, and Kenma parted for him to deepen the kiss. Their lips slotted against each other, but the whole time Bokuto was very gentle, not pushing too much to make Kenma uncomfortable and only following silent cues given by Kenma.
“Hey, Kenma,” Bokuto said as they pulled apart again. “I like you too. So, I was thinking, if you didn’t mind, then maybe, you could, uh, become my boyfriend?”
If he could get any redder he would. “Yes,” he said and pressed their lips against each other for the third time. “That was my first kiss.”
Bokuto instantly stills and his eyes go wide. “What?”
“I mean, my real first kiss,” Kenma corrects. He leans back to settle back into his seat, but Bokuto’s grasp on his arm keeps him near.
“Don’t worry,” he says, “I’ll cherish it forever.”
“Stop saying embarrassing things. I’m going to have a heart attack at this point,” Kenma says as he lets his hair fall over his face. Bokuto’s hand comes to push it to the side and he gives him a small kiss on his forehead.
“I can’t have that right after you said you’d properly date me.”
*
It was all those months ago, that had brought them together. Kenma runs his hands through Bokuto’s sleeping form one last time before leaning in and kissing him softly.
“I love you,” he whispers against his lips.
“Damn it.” Bokuto’s eyes opened suddenly. His hands come to wrap around Kenma’s waist and pull him in closer. “You got to confess first again.”
“I-I thought you were asleep,” Kenma sputters. He didn’t mean to admit that he has come to love Bokuto, but the moment just felt right.
“I was, but who wouldn’t wake up after hearing something like that,” Bokuto says. He rolls them over and with a yelp Kenma is snug on top of him, his face resting on Bokuto’s broad chest. Bokuto combs through Kenma’s hair with his fingers and hums to himself. “I wanted to be the one to say I love you first.”
“Don’t pout,” Kenma says. He lifts up his head and rests his chin on his chest so they could look each other in the eye. “You could say it.”
“But I won’t be the first,” he whines.
Kenma presses his hand on his cheek and smiles down at the man. “It doesn’t matter if I said it first or not. It would still mean the world to me to hear you say it.”
Bokuto sniffles, and Kenma isn’t sure if its real or not, but it doesn’t matter, because the next second their positons are reversed and Bokuto is staring down at him. His hair is sprawled around them and he can clearly see the sun over Bokuto’s shoulder. Kenma reaches up to tangle his hand into Bokuto’s hair and waits patiently for the man he loves.
“I love you, Kenma.”
“I love you too.”