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“Maybe Chibi-chan should just stay as our opponent and practice partner, then you’d feel a bit more— motivated.”
Kenma pauses at Kuroo’s remark, and lowers his water bottle. Tearing his gaze away from Shouyou’s sparkling eyes and the sunny smile that frequently graces the fiery-haired boy’s lips is harder than he expects it to be, but he just about manages. Bemused, he asks his friend, “Why?”
The smug grin on Kuroo’s face only widens as he replies, “Because whenever you look at Chibi-chan, you have the same expression on your face as when you’re about to play a new game you just bought.”
In an attempt to detect any changes in his facial features (and not because he likes basking in the warmth that Shouyou radiates, or because he’s a victim of Shouyou’s gravitational pull, he promises), Kenma turns to glance at the game between Karasuno and Fukurodani. This time, his attention is drawn to different aspects of Shouyou’s body; the sheen of sweat clinging to his skin, the lock of orange hair that falls across his eye before he blows it away, the steady rise and fall of his shoulders—
“You just did it again,” Kuroo chirps.
“No, I didn’t. I don’t do that.” He swears that he’d maintained his aloof composure. If anything, his heart was what had responded to the sight of Shouyou, thumping happily beneath his ribcage. Heat creeps onto the tips of his ears once he realises that, and he mumbles, “And what does that face look like, anyway?”
Kuroo smirks. He must be enjoying this. “Really excited,” he replies. “Lovestruck, even. Smitten, I would say.” He’s infuriatingly observant, but Kenma obviously won’t tell him that.
“What does that mean?” Kenma questions, his brows knitting together. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t make that face.”
“You do.”
“I do not.”
At the sound of the whistle, they begin walking back with the rest of Nekoma in a silence that Kenma deeply appreciates. It doesn’t last long, though, because Kuroo just has to repeat, “You do.”
“I do not.” Do I? he wonders while he and Kuroo embark on this childlike back-and-forth. Maybe he isn’t as inconspicuous about his soft spot for Shouyou as he’d thought. There have been too many small smiles directed towards him, too many wandering thoughts of how it would feel if Shouyou pulled him close, if his lips brushed against Kenma’s skin, or if they were to meet his own. Shit.
“I do,” Kenma says softly, almost in disbelief. Admitting this doesn’t come with fireworks or a musical crescendo like in movies, but a warm, fuzzy feeling surrounds him, like when he plays a new game. Like when he’s in Hinata Shouyou’s presence.
As he expects, Kuroo doesn’t take the two words as the confession they are, and easily falls for the bait. “You do not,” he confidently counters, and then looks scandalised. “Ugh, you tricked me!”