Work Text:
That was new. He never felt so agitated, so vulnerable, so hurt. Not with Shouyou. The words kept ringing inside his head, over and over.
I'm thinking about going to another university.
Apparently, the sports scholarship they'd offered him was tempting, and even if he could be part of the national team by now (as in, wasn’t part of it yet), Shouyou felt like he needed to accept it.
But Kenma didn't like it. They had plans, they had dreams, they had a future. They would live together, have breakfast and attend the same university.
Hell, he'd toss to him if he asked to.
But what now? He'd be at another university, possibly even farther than Miyagi. How were they supposed to spend the rest of their lives together if they wouldn't be together at all?
With a huff, Kenma got up and left Shouyou alone, screaming his name, too surprised to go after him.
He walked and walked and walked without a direction, or at least he thought so, because when he came to his senses he was standing at the front door of his best friend's apartment, already ringing the bell.
He was greeted by a surprised Kuroo, who was still wearing pajamas. It wasn't unusual, Kenma showing up without notice at his door when something - anything, really - upset him.
The older boy opened the door as an invitation and frowned when his friend didn't even stop to say hello, rushing to his bedroom where it was safe and calm and familiar and sooth-
Except it wasn't.
Not when Tsukishima was there too, still wearing his pajamas, immersed in a book, with his headphones on. At first, he didn't notice Kenma's tiny body beneath the door frame.
But then he did.
Kenma just stood there, completely paralized and scared and frozen in place, holding his breath, waiting for Tsukishima's reaction.
And he waited.
And waited.
And Tsukishima sighed. He got up slowly, lazily, taking his headphones off and leaving the book on Kuroo's bed.
The sheets were a mess and there were pillows everywhere. Kenma felt like he was interrupting something and he felt awkward and inappropriate and bad.
He felt bad.
He felt the worst.
He knew they were dating, and he knew that Tsukki came to visit sometimes.
He should've known this would happen sooner or later.
He just wished it wasn’t this time.
Tsukishima walked past him, gave him a pat on the head, and left without saying a word.
Not a single word.
Nothing.
Maybe he wanted the other boy to be angry and yell at him for interrupting his precious time with his boyfriend, the one he needed to travel for 4 hours by train to see.
But Tsukishima just walked past him and left him alone, staring into an empty room.
Messy room.
Familiar room.
Kuroo suddenly showed up behind Kenma and guided him through the mess, sitting on the bed and inviting his childhood friend to take the spot next to him. His mouth moved, Kenma presumed he was asking what was wrong, but he couldn’t answer. He wasn’t sure why, maybe it was too recent, maybe he didn’t think about it, maybe it was because this weekend was important to Kuroo since Tsukki was here, maybe maybe maybe.
So he did the same routine they did whenever Kenma wasn’t able to say things out loud.
He moved and sat between Kuroo’s legs. He grabbed Kuroo’s hand with his both. He placed it on his head. He leaned forward and let his head rest at the other’s chest, breathing heavily. Kuroo moved his hand, petting Kenma the same way he would pet a kitten or a puppy, waiting for him to calm down.
It was relaxing and familiar, everything the younger boy needed at the moment.
And then, it was different.
Kenma heard footsteps. His body tensed.
The door was opened, and he could hear the foosteps getting closer and closer and closer, stopping right beside him.
He heard a voice, probably Tsukishima’s, but he couldn’t recognize any words. His head felt heavy and the world felt like jelly, all numb and shaky and out of focus. He felt, rather than heard, Kuroo’s response to the other boy, his voice resonating through his chest and reaching Kenma’s head with a buzz.
Shortly after, Kuroo’s hand was moving again. He dared to open his eyes and raised his head, looking for Tsukishima, feeling so anxious he might throw up.
And the blond wasn’t there.
He looked at Kuroo, confused, but the older boy just smiled and reassured that he could relax.
Except he couldn’t. He couldn’t because he knew he was stealing their time together.
Kuroo kept their routine, though. He guided Kenma’s forehead back to his chest, and kept running his fingers through his hair, carefully but firmly, massaging his scalp and making him forget about the things that made him feel so bad.
Kuroo was there.
He was his best friend.
He knew exactly what to do.
After a while, Kenma started crying and told Kuroo all about Shouyou and his stupid university things, about volleyball and boyfriends and love and stupid promises they’d never keep. He felt all his energy being drained from him, leaking out with every teardrop. Soon, he was exhausted. Soon, he was laying on Kuroo’s bed. Soon, he was sleeping.
And even sooner he woke up, realizing that running away was possibly the worst decision he could’ve made.
He looked around the room. The sun was setting behind the red curtains, bathing the room in warm colors. Sitting up on the bed, he found a cup with tea resting at the bedside table, and felt incredibly grateful for it.
He heard a strange sound coming from his bag and remembered that he had a phone. It wasn’t the time to check on it yet, though.
The tea wasn’t hot anymore, tending towards cold instead of warm. The boy drank it anyway.
It was bitter.
He didn’t dislike it.
Kenma got up slowly, warily, and opened the door just a little, just to see if it was really okay to leave the room.
He heard hushed voices and music in the background. Instrumental. Atmospheric. Relaxing. Curious like a little kitten, he walked outside and found Kuroo and Tsukishima sitting side by side in the living room, hand in hand and empty tea cups on the coffee table, enjoying the song. They looked peaceful and beautiful, he thought.
Kuroo turned his gaze towards him and invited him to sit with them. Tsukishima looked at him as well and smiled, the kindest smile Kenma had ever seen from him. He didn’t even know the boy could be so calm, so kind.
Somehow he knew it was Tsukishima who made the tea - Kuroo never got it right anyway.
Somehow, that cup of tea and his understanding silence meant more than a thousand words. Tsukishima wasn’t angry. Wasn’t jealous. Didn’t think he was stupid. Didn’t hate him.
Somehow, Kenma didn't feel like an intruder anymore.
He felt welcomed.
Like part of the family.
He sat at Kuroo's side and let the soothing music wash over him, notes and chorus and waves and bells bringing comfort and peace of mind.
He closed his eyes and, once again, forgot about the world around him.
He felt safe.
After a while, Kuroo got up and walked to the stereo, changing the song to something more upbeat, faster, happier. Tsukishima and Kenma both looked at him and scowled, not quite ready for the sudden shift of feelings. Tetsurou just smiled and started dancing and humming. Tsukishima rolled his eyes and said something sarcastic, which made Kenma giggle.
It was weird, really. Laughing.
Kuroo proceeded to grab Tsukki and hoist him up, holding him firmly by his midsection and dancing. Despite being very annoyed at first, Kenma saw the exact moment when the wrinkles on Kei’s forehead vanished and his eyes shimmered, just a little.
That reminded him of Shouyou.
He always felt at ease when he was with Hinata. It was warm. And comfortable. And familiar. It seemed like he was always bright. Like having a personal little sun.
Except now he’d be so far away.
Kenma watched them following the rhythm with their bodies in a succession of awkward movements, which could be vaguely called "dancing". It was funny and he'd laugh if his mind wasn't wondering things about Shouyou.
Did he go back to Miyagi already?
Did he look for Kenma?
Did he call?
Did he cry?
Kozume wasn't sure he wanted to know these answers.
The music faded away, and another came, even funkier and happier. Kenma wrinkled his nose, displeased. The music wasn't really helping, and seeing the couple dancing only made him feel worse.
Well, at least dancing was better than singing.
As if reading his mind, Kuroo started singing loudly, making up most of the lyrics. Tsukishima tried to hold back a giggle, without success. Kenma decided he needed a break from them, now that his best friend's horrible lyrics were getting out of control. He went for his phone inside his pocket, except it wasn't there. He remembered the vibrating sounds coming from inside his bag, and a wave of anxiety threw his thoughts inside a blender again.
Was it Shouyou calling him?
What if it wasn't?
Did he give up?
His body was shivering, uncertainty and fear taking over once again. He didn't want to worry his friends now that they were having such a good time, so he retreated to the bedroom, carefully searching for his phone inside the bag.
As soon as he grabbed the smartphone, it started vibrating again.
With a shiver, he looked at the screen and let out a small sigh.
It was Shouyou.
He didn’t know if he wanted to answer, so he took his time. He watched and waited.
And waited.
And waited, slowly gathering courage to answer it.
And then it stopped ringing.
Furious with himself, Kenma was about to throw it across the room when he looked at the screen again.
15 messages.
7 missed calls.
All from Shouyou.
He didn’t give up.
Maybe… maybe they could talk through this. Maybe they could sit and talk about it tomorrow and find what was best for them-
Except his phone rang again.
He answered it this time.
But he wasn't ready for it.
Shouyou called his name. His voice was hoarse. Low. Unfamiliar.
Kenma's heart sank a little. He never heard the other boy so worried, so tired, so sad.
Kenma wanted to talk to him but he couldn't, the lump in his throat almost suffocating him.
The silence was suffocating him.
Hearing Shouyou's breathing at the other end was suffocating him.
Two questions from Hinata.
Three answers from Kenma.
I'm fine.
At Kuroo's place.
Please come.
His voice was as silent as a whisper, but the younger boy seemed to understand the urgency behind these words. They said nothing more. There was nothing more to be said.
Kenma’s head was heavy, his eyes itched and hurt from crying so much. Now he talked with Shouyou and his body shivered with anxiety. He felt awful.
He turned around when he heard the door opening. Kuroo peeked in, his unasked question answered with a shaky "I'm fine" and a nod. Retreating to the bed again, Kenma laid down and turned so he wasn't facing the door anymore. He felt the bed sink a little, and felt Kuroo's fingers on his hair again. It felt good. It felt safe. It felt like home.
His muscles began to relax. His thoughts began to make sense. His eyes began to tear up again.
Why did it have to be so hard?
This time, silence was a blessing. He could hear everything. Wind. Rustling leaves. A violin solo coming from the living room. A kettle whistling.
The clock ticking.
His phone vibrating.
Kuroo's rhythmic breathing.
Tsukishima humming.
Violin solo.
Footsteps.
Doorbell.
The curtains filled the room with warm colours, shades of red and orange washing over the walls and furniture. Kenma wasn't sure of how much time had passed, but it seemed like an eternity. He blinked a few times and sit up. Kuroo was lying next to him, sound asleep. The younger boy got out of the bed carefully, not wanting to wake the other.
Suddenly, he heard voices. One was calm and collected, the other was urgent and worried.
His heart skipped a beat.
Slowly, he pried the bedroom door open, not sure if he was ready for it.
He knew it, but knowing and seeing are very distinct things.
Shouyou was there, standing just past the front door. Their eyes met and Kenma fought the urge to run and hug him. Tsukishima left after closing the door, a violin melody still playing in the background.
There were no 'hellos'.
There were no kisses.
There were no 'god I missed you so fucking much' or 'I was worried sick, please don't do this again' hugs.
They sit next to each other at the sofa. Shouyou grabbed Kenma's hand and started writing on his palm.
S.
Kenma's heart was racing, his mind filled with thoughts and uncertainties and anger and longing.
O.
He could feel the other's warmth. He wanted to hug him so badly and then yell at him, but Kenma didn't dare to look. Shouyou words kept ringing inside his head, over and over.
I'm thinking about going to another university.
R.
But then there were new words. New promises. New plans.
He heard a single word that caught his attention.
Together.
R.
Kenma realized it was an apology. Shouyou talked about his uncertainties, his fears, his plans.
Kenma wasn't listening, though, a single word still ressonating in his mind.
Together.
Y.
Kenma flexed his fingers, still sensing the other's touch in his palm. It was subtle and calming and sincere, and he wasn't so angry anymore.
He let Shouyou hold his hand again. It felt safe and warm. Kenma's heart was racing, his body hot and his mind foggy.
It wasn't easy.
Slowly, their bodies shifted on the sofa. Hinata opened his arms and invited Kozume to a hug, and soon they were lying down, the older one resting his head at Shouyou's chest and hearing his heartbeat. Once again, familiar hands touched Kenma's scalp and neck and hair, and he let himself relax, their conversation still in his thoughts.
Shouyou wasn't going away. In fact, this university was very close to Kenma’s, and he would have said that if Kenma hadn’t panicked and ran away.
They ended up dozing off on Kuroo’s couch, waking up a couple of hours later. A little unsure of their surroundings, Kenma lifted his head and found a surprised Kuroo, holding a blanket. Tsukishima was at the kitchen again, this time making coffee, if Kenma’s nose was right. His ex-team captain handed him the blanket, smiling. He was very grateful for all of this. So he smiled shyly, only slightly, in return.
They barely needed words to convey their feelings.
It was like reading minds.
It was like telepathy.
It was like family.