Chapter Text
i.
Kuroo’s waiting for him at the corner between their houses, just like he has been most every morning, for as long as Kenma can remember. He’s tapping through something on his phone, probably a message from Kai or Bokuto. There’s a small smile lurking at the corner of his mouth, his lips twitching slightly as types out a response to whomever he’s texting.
There’s a lingering sense of newness underneath Kenma’s skin. He didn’t get any sleep last night, which is usually only the case after he’s gotten a new game or is dreading something coming the next morning. Last night hadn’t been like that, however. Instead, he’d lain on his back in bed and stared at the ceiling, thinking back on the day’s events with nothing like dread.
I like you, Kenma. It doesn’t have to change anything if you don’t want it to, but I want you to know. I really like you.
Now, he’s looking at the person whose words echoed in his head all night. As though he senses Kenma’s gaze, Kuroo looks up and his smile blooms completely. It’s a little lop-sided, a dimple indenting one cheek and not the other. Not for the first time, Kenma realizes how precious this smile of Kuroo’s is. It’s not something most people get to see.
Kuroo tucks his phone into his pocket as Kenma approaches. For a split-second, Kenma thinks that everything will be exactly as it was before—he’ll set off down the sidewalk and Kuroo will walk at his side, and they won’t mention yesterday or much of anything at all as they take the train to school.
But everything isn’t exactly the same. And Kuroo isn’t letting things go back to normal. Because he’s shifting slightly, reaching forward and brushing Kenma’s hair away from his face with a gentle touch. He’s leaning in, bringing their faces close together. He hedges at the last moment, and before Kenma can realize that Kuroo had been about to kiss him, Kuroo’s lips are pressed against his forehead.
“Good morning,” he says quietly, pulling away. There’s a blush rising along his cheeks, barely noticeable under his tanned skin.
Kenma blinks at him, once and then twice. He opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything.
Kuroo purses his lips together, eyes widening just slightly. “Sorry?” he says, before the panic truly sets in. “Sorry, that was weird, wasn’t it? I won’t do it again, if you didn’t like it.”
Kenma huffs, the barest hint of a laugh. He shakes his head. “It was a little weird. But so are you.”
Kuroo runs one hand through his hair, considering this. “Good weird, or bad weird?”
“I haven’t decided yet,” Kenma says slowly, after a moment’s thought. He starts walking down the sidewalk, towards the train station. “Try again tomorrow, so we can make sure.”
You don’t have to look at me like that, Kuro. I really like you, too.
ii.
Within a few months, it’s become a ritual. Kuroo’s still waiting for him on the corner every morning, the same as ever. But now Kenma stops deliberately in front of him, tilting his head up expectantly. Sometimes, Kuroo will chuckle before he leans down and kisses Kenma gently on the brow.
“Still weird?” he asks, every so often. He ducks his head as he says this, playing at being coy.
At times like that, it’s best not to indulge Kuroo too much. So Kenma just rolls his eyes, and grabs Kuroo by the collar to drag him down to eye-level.
“I’m getting used to it,” he says. And then he kisses Kuroo on the lips.