Hi everyone! Thanks for clicking on my story, "Teach Me How to Swim."

I'm going to start off by being very clear, because I do not want to trigger anybody or make anybody feel physically uncomfortable. So here are the trigger warnings:

There is explicit rape in this story.

There is discussion of self-harm in this story.

There are suicide attempts in this story.

There is extensive discussion of depression and anxiety issues in this story.

There are explicit sexual descriptions in this story.

Please take care of yourselves.

That being said, this story is a bit special to me. I love Kenma and Kuroo a lot-they are, I think, my favorite ship in Haikyuu (though IwaOi comes a close second) because I feel like they just have such an amazing and passionate dynamic stemming from their childhood friendship. It always seems to me that Kuroo goes out of his way to take care of and protect Kenma.

I also have the idea in my head of Kenma just saying a big "fuck you" to gender roles and being obsessed with dresses and skirts and makeup.

This is not a lighthearted story. There is romance, and there is fluff, and there's a lot of cat...but it's not lighthearted. In fact, it's rather dark and heavy.

That is my warning to you as you (I hope) continue.

The story is finished, and I'll update about every two or three days.

I poured my soul, as always, into every word, and I genuinely hope that you enjoy my story and that, in the end, maybe it can be meaningful to you.

xoxo

1

Kuroo

Tetsurou Kuroo checked his watch. It was three AM, and the bar was finally empty. He swiped a towel across the counter, put the chairs up, locked the front door of the Black Cat, and took off his vest. He was tired, glad that it hadn't been a busy night. Sweeping wouldn't be so bad tomorrow. He counted the money in the register, smiled in satisfaction, and went toward the back door, leading to the stairwell up to his flat. Everything was quiet, so his footsteps on the stairs creaked and echoed as loudly as cymbals. He opened the door quietly in case his roommate was sleeping (who was he kidding, his roommate wasn't sleeping), and when he stepped inside he was bathed in total darkness. He let the door click closed. When he was fully inside, he noticed that it wasn't exactly total darkness. In the back room, through a door that was hanging ajar, was a little bright light.

"I'm home," he called, smiling. And, as usual, there was no response. "I'm turning the lights on now."

He turned on the lights. The flat was relatively organized, but there were clothes and some empty food wrappers that he would have to clean before going to bed. The work of his roommate who, unlike Tetsurou, didn't worry so much about the cleanliness of the flat. He took his shoes off, knowing that even though his roommate wasn't responding, he was there, listening to every word, waiting for Tetsurou to pop into the room. Which, after walking across the room, he did. Leaned his arm against the doorway.

And, as always, his roommate and best friend was there. Sitting on the ground, legs curled up to his chest, one hand around a bottle of Coke and another fiddling on the keyboard of a computer. He was wearing an oversized sweatshirt—one might've assumed it was Tetsurou's, but he just had a habit of buying clothes that were three times his size—and short lace shorts, pink knee-high socks. His hair reached just below his shoulders, with black roots and blonde locks. Tucked behind his ears.

"You really should sleep," Tetsurou said with a shake of his head.

"And you should really fix your hair, but here we are," he shrugged. He didn't even look away from the computer screen. It looked to Tetsurou like he was coding.

His name was Kenma Kozume, and he'd been Tetsurou's best friend for years, though he was a year younger. After he'd graduated, he and Tetsurou had moved into this flat together.

"Like you're one to talk about hair upkeep," Tetsurou scoffed.

"Mine looks good."

"Cute as fuck since I dyed it for you."

"Bite me."

"So, what are you doing?"

"Coding."

Tetsurou walked in (it was Kenma's room, so it was ridiculously messy), and plopped down next to him. Their arms pressed together as Tetsurou stretched his legs out.

"New game?" he asked.

"Yeah. Just brainstorming."

As they fell into comfortable silence, Tetsurou suddenly felt a soft pressure against his other arm. He glanced over. It was one of their cats, the orange striped tabby, Kenma Jr. She was rubbing her head against his arm. He picked her up and put her in his lap, where she curled up and began to purr. Then, as per usual, their other cat, completely black, Kuroo Jr. moved to Kenma's side. She nuzzled him affectionately, and meowed softly when he stroked her head. Kenma tended to prefer the cats to any human contact. One of his more charming qualities, Tetsurou mused.

"What's the new game about?" he asked.

"Not telling." Kenma, a brilliant independent game designer, tended to stay reserved about his games until they were ready. Claimed that having anyone else know disturbed his creative process.

"Right."

"How was work?"

"Good. The usual. How about you come down tomorrow night? You're always cooped up in here."

"Thanks, but no thanks. I really wanna finish this game."

"Kenma's favorite quote."

Kenma glared at Tetsurou from the corner of his sharp eyes, batted his thick eyelashes, then went back to his computer. Tetsurou smiled and tried to concoct a plan to finally get Kenma out of here.

Since Tetsurou had known him, Kenma had been overwhelmingly anti-social, locking himself away to play video games. He never went anywhere without his 3DS. It hadn't been so bad when he was younger—Tetsurou had managed to get him outside, play with other kids, participate in sports and study for exams. Tetsurou had been like his private tutor and absolute best friend. Since they'd met, living next to each other in the same neighborhood, they'd almost never been separated. But, even with Tetsurou by his side, Kenma's tendencies had gotten worse with age. It wasn't as if he had had a bad, abusive childhood or was bullied. He just became more withdrawn, to the point that Tetsurou had started dragging him to weekly therapy sessions. At the very least, it would help him talk to people. But it was strange. Kenma could move hearts and minds and souls with his games, and his fashion sense was so cute that it didn't make sense that he hardly left the house.

However, Tetsurou wasn't the type to give up on anything. And, in the end, he was the only one Kenma could turn to.

Which wasn't to say that Tetsurou was doing it selflessly—he needed Kenma, too. He was Tetsurou's best friend, as close as a brother to him.

"You have an appointment tomorrow, right?" Tetsurou said. His eyes on Kenma's apathetic features.

"Yeah. Can you take me?"

"Of course. I'll even do your hair for you," he winked.

"You can't even do your own."

"True enough."

Kenma Jr. hopped off Tetsurou's lap and began to walk over the keyboard, inadvertently messing up the codes that Kenma had been working on. Exasperated, Kenma hugged his legs and heaved a quiet sigh.

"Great. Thanks, Kenma Jr."

As if saying you're welcome, Kenma Jr. meowed, and then lay down on the computer.

"That's all right. You can fix it later, yeah?" Tetsurou reached his fingers up and began running them through Kenma's hair. Kenma loved Tetsurou playing with his hair. He said that it helped calm him down and make him feel okay. He would braid it, tie it in pigtails, brush it. He'd gotten very good with hair. He was even the one who cut it and dyed it for him every month.

Then, he noticed tears gathering on Kenma's eyes. He started shaking, gently, and tightening his grip on his legs, and biting down on his lower lip. They were the signs. For weeks he would hold everything in, absolutely everything, and then in random explosions, everything would come out. It only happened when he and Tetsurou were alone, never even with the therapist. And even Kenma couldn't explain them. Something small would trigger them. Like his game shutting down, or hearing the cats cry, or watching a movie. Or Kenma Jr. messing up his codes.

"I just feel really sad," he would say. "I need to cry. Could you just...could you just wait, there, until I'm done?"

Tetsurou always sat in silence through the tears, his hands in Kenma's hair. He hated that he was so accustomed to this.

There must be something else I can do, he always thought. This can't be it.

But he didn't know.

So now, he did what he could do. He wrapped his arm around little Kenma's shoulders, twirling his fingers in Kenma's long, tangled hair. He was quiet as he cried, the tears rolling down his cheeks, and Tetsurou didn't say anything. Just leaned his cheek against Kenma's head and held him.

Usually, Kenma would cry as quietly as he could for about half an hour, and then go right back to normal.

Today, for some reason, something changed.

Somehow, Tetsurou had been expecting it.

Kenma's fingers grasped for Tetsurou's shirt, and he turned and buried his face in Tetsurou's neck. He was so warm, fit so nicely into the crook of Tetsurou's long arm. His tears were wet and Tetsurou wondered what they tasted like.

"Hey, Kenma..."

"You smell really nice, Kuro."

Tetsurou was a bit surprised at the comment. Kenma had sometimes said things like this, when he was sleepy or a bit drunk, but he didn't seem like either of those things right now. He just seemed sad, terribly sad, and Tetsurou felt the urge—an urge he'd been feeling more and more lately—to hold Kenma more tightly. So he did. He must have showered earlier. He smelled like flowers.

"It's all right," he said.

"Yeah, I know."

Even though he said it, Kenma didn't sound like he knew. He sounded lost and tired.

"Tell me what you're feeling," Tetsurou whispered. "I'm not a therapist, but I'll listen. I want to know."

"I don't know. I just feel scared and sad."

Something was changing, and Tetsurou knew now (finally) that he wasn't the only one who felt it. This must've meant that Kenma felt it, too. A heat that had never been here before.

Lately, Tetsurou had been noticing new things about Kenma, things he used to notice about pretty girls who walked into coffee shops, elegant professors at school, celebrities plastered on the televisions. Like the way his hair fell so gently against his small, curved back, and the little ridges of his spine that were visible through his oversized sweaters. Like the way he put so little of his lips around the edge of the bottle when he drank, always from bottles. Like the way his fingernails looked when they tapped away on the keyboards of his computer, how vacant the glassy look in his eyes. Like the way he pouted a bit when he smiled, and after he spoke, and in between bites when he was eating. Little, insignificant pieces that made Tetsurou's heart slowly cave in on itself.

He'd been pushing away his thoughts, desperate to bury them, but now that he was holding Kenma like this they were flaring up again with a vengeance. Waves forced down to the bottom of the ocean that were coming up as a tsunami now, washing over everything.

"It's okay. I'm here. You can be sad and scared, I'm here."

Tetsurou was nervous when he put his lips, cautiously, gingerly, against Kenma's scalp. Dipping his toe into the water, to test the temperature. His hair was so soft. He was scared that the move was too bold, that maybe he was just confused about what he was feeling. He'd been friends with Kenma for so long...maybe it made sense to be confused, he wondered. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe...

But Kenma leaned into his lips until they were pressed heavily against his head. He grasped Tetsurou's shirt more tightly, his long nails nearly digging into the skin of Tetsurou's chest. Is this what had been building? Since Tetsurou had first thought, when did my best friend become this lovely?

"Kenma..."

Kenma sniffled once. Tetsurou closed his eyes and tried to think of the consequences of jumping, as Kenma pulled him forward. Jumping over this cliff that he'd been approaching for a while, unaware that Kenma had been right next to him the whole time. The territory at the bottom of the abyss was completely unknown. Right now they were on the edge of their comfortable, happy friendship, but jumping would mean leaving that behind for something new and different. It would mean leaving certainty for uncertainty.

Don't do it, Tetsurou.

Don't do it.

He's just emotional, and you care about him too much, don't do it...

When Tetsurou cupped Kenma's cheek in his hand and positioned his head so that he was looking down into Kenma's watery eyes, he suddenly lost the ability to think about consequences. It appeared that Kenma was in a similar situation, cheeks rosy and lips parted. He closed his eyes slowly and tilted his chin up higher. Letting his lips fall even more open. Stray strands of hair clinging to the tearstains on his cheeks.

Kenma...

"Kenma."

Tetsurou and Kenma jumped.

Tetsurou kissed his lips slowly, at first. Kenma's were quivering. He started light, careful. As his mouth curved to fit the shape of Kenma's, Kenma pulled on Tetsurou's shirt. Pulled him closer, shifted his legs to reach further up. After about a minute, Tetsurou pulled away, keeping his fingers cupped around Kenma's chin. There were more round, shimmering tears in his eyelashes.

"Kenma, are you...?" he began quietly. Kenma closed his eyes and shook his head. Tetsurou's nerves flared up again.

"I don't wanna talk anymore," he murmured. "I'm just tired and I want you to kiss me."

"Are you sure, Kenma?" Tetsurou put his forehead against Kenma's. Now that they'd started, he wanted this. He realized that he'd wanted it for so long, he was desperate for this. But if Kenma were to say the word, he would stop in a heartbeat.

He really hoped that Kenma wouldn't say no.

"Yes. I'm sure."

"Okay."

Tetsurou kissed Kenma again, harder this time. Kenma reached up, his fingers clawing at the vulnerable skin of Tetsurou's exposed neck. Arms snacked around his neck, pulling himself onto his knees and arching his neck back. Tetsurou couldn't help but smile against his mouth. He leaned forward and ran his hands from Kenma's shoulders, his chest, his stomach, down to his waist. Squeezed. The more that he kissed Kenma, the more of the taste he drank in, the more crazed he became. But he reigned himself back. His mouth still curled in a smile, he probed the outside of Kenma's lips with the tip of his tongue. Teased Kenma's wet, panting mouth, pushed his hands up under Kenma's giant sweater. His hands must've been cold. When his palms pressed to the sides of Kenma's torso, Kenma sighed audibly, desperately. In response, Tetsurou drove his tongue in further, navigating, suddenly thinking about how many words he'd heard roll from the tongue around which he now thirstily wrapped his own.

Kenma wrapped his arms more tightly around Tetsurou, pulled, moaned against his lips quietly. Tetsurou opened his eyes because he couldn't bear to not look at Kenma's face. Eyes closed, cheeks so red, eyelashes shaking and tears gone. Tetsurou worked his fingers up higher. He moved his kiss to the corner of Kenma's lips, groaned when Kenma let out a soft, breathy whimper.

"A-ah..."

Kenma let his head fall forward, leaned his forearms on Tetsurou's shoulders, and let Tetsurou pull his legs around his waist. Pressed the weight of his groin against Tetsurou's, reached for the back of Tetsurou's shirt, while Tetsurou's tongue drew circles on Kenma's neck. Kenma dug his hips down, pressed himself to Tetsurou's chest, moaned into his red ear as the pleasure spread warm and white between their legs. Tetsurou pushed his hips up, drove his hands higher, higher, until Kenma raised his arms and Tetsurou tossed his sweater into the corner. Kenma Jr. and Kuroo Jr. both scurried over to it and curled up together.

"Mm, you're so beautiful," Tetsurou murmured against Kenma's skin. He wrapped his arms around his bare body, let his fingers ride his pale skin like he were smoothing it out, painting it, desperate to kiss every inch. While Kenma's legs, in their pink socks and curled toes, pressed down into the carpet. In the next moment, Tetsurou's shirt was off, too, and Kenma's nails drew blood from the skin of his back. Kenma's hair was falling down against his skin, tickling him, getting in the way of his hard tongued kisses.

"K...Kuro..."

Kenma pressed, pressed, pressed down against Tetsurou's rising crotch, until his back arched back and his hips swiveled and his face turned toward the ceiling. Tetsurou couldn't quiet his moan, not when he felt the pressure and saw Kenma's face like that. Upturned, eyes slightly open and mouth wide and hair everywhere. He was sweating—they both were. Exposed, beautifully pale and porcelain. Tetsurou let his lips hover just above the skin of Kenma's neck, touched it lightly with his tongue. Put his palms in the arch of his back and let Kenma fall back slightly. As he did, Kenma maneuvered his hand until it was fiddling with the rim of Tetsurou's pants, teasing, the skin-to-skin contact unbearably tantalizing. He unbuttoned them, unzipped them, and slowly—fuck it was slow—dug his hand into Tetsurou's boxers.

"Fuck, Kenma—!"

He wrapped his fingers around Tetsurou's semi-hard cock, moving the ring of his hand slowly down the shaft. Down, and then back up, pushing it toward his stomach. He rolled his wrist, moved, until Tetsurou was harder than a rock. And, from what he could tell when Kenma moaned and swiveled his hips again, so was Kenma. Tetsurou smiled as the sweat poured and the air became heavy with their breaths. And he forced himself to keep his drooping eyes open. At least for a little bit.

As Kenma moved his hand, rolling it over the head and gradually getting faster, Tetsurou watched him lick his lower lip. It made his body hot, made him groan and spin from the pleasure. When he blinked he saw white. He lifted his hand and put it to Kenma's cheek, wiping the hairs away to see him more clearly. Kenma didn't smile—his smiles were rare. But he leaned into Tetsurou's palm and opened his lips and sighed.

Tetsurou used his other hand to move down to Kenma's around his cock. He grabbed it, and without a word, moved it away.

"Kuro—ah!"

Tetsurou leaned forward, forcing Kenma down onto his back on the carpet. He settled himself between Kenma's hips and kissed him, grabbed his hands, pushed them down to the ground. Kenma's muffled groans vibrated against his lips, his hair spread out beneath his head, his mouth opened in welcome. He bent his legs and put the soles of his feet to Tetsurou's calves, moving them up and down. But he pulled away, turned sideways, when Tetsurou breathed out and thrust his hips against him. His fingers squeezed Tetsurou's.

"Kenma, do you," he began, pausing to take a breath while he whispered in his ear. "Do you want to...?"

"Yes." Kenma began to nod. He stretched his arms further out. "Let's do it."

Tetsurou laughed quietly. At the sound, Kenma opened his eyes. Blinked lethargically, let the tension out from his muscles.

"What's so funny?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Tetsurou shook his head. "Why are you laughing?"

"Nothing, I just..." Tetsurou paused to kiss him. For as long as he could. "Your hair looks funny."

"Stop it. Bedhead."

"Pudding head."

Tetsurou smiled. Then he propped himself up on his arms and sighed again.

"I'll be right back. Don't move."

Kenma nodded while Tetsurou ran quickly back to his room, shaking off his boxers as he did. He reached into his nightstand for a condom and a bottle of lube, and then he ran back to where Kenma still lay in the exact same position. Tetsurou moved back in between his hips and buried his fingers in Kenma's hair. Kissed his lips. Kissed them again, lifted Kenma's thighs, dug his hips in deeper. Dug them in again, until he could hear Kenma's sigh in his ear. He put his lips to Kenma's chest, watched Kenma's fingers grasp the blanket that was spread across the carpet, while he bit open the condom wrapper and by some miracle managed to slip it on. Just looking at Kenma spread out beneath him made him see stars. When the condom was securely on, he flipped open the lube bottle and spread it along his fingers.

"Ready?"

Kenma nodded.

Gently, Tetsurou pushed Kenma's hips up higher. He began as slow as possible. One finger, circling the rim, while he continued kissing Kenma. His finger went in a little bit, circled, went in further. Kenma caught his breath and opened his mouth wider. He was tight, so Tetsurou was careful. He pushed his finger in the entire way, and then removed it halfway. Kenma squirmed, whimpered for a moment, and caught his breath again when Tetsurou pushed his finger back in. When he was loose (at least looser than before), he put the second finger in. This time, it was obviously painful. Kenma bit his lower lip and grasped the blanket more tightly, until his knuckles were white.

In an attempt to relax him, Tetsurou kissed him slowly. Danced with his tongue, moaned into him, moved with both fingers. Then he pulled them both out. Kenma let his breath out and began to pant, catch his breath, relax his muscles. Tetsurou tightened his grip on Kenma's thighs, lifted them just a bit higher, kissed him again. Kenma's eyes fluttered open. His hands went up to Tetsurou's face, his fingers traced his lips. Tetsurou kissed his fingertips.

Kenma closed his eyes. Put his arms around his neck. So Tetsurou positioned his hips and put the head of his cock to his entrance. He saw Kenma start holding his breath. He went in slowly because he knew it was nothing like fingers, even with the lube. When he wasn't even halfway in, Kenma gasped and banged his head back against the floor. Tetsurou paused, listened for a moment to Kenma's ragged breath, and moved his hand down Kenma's torso. Then he grabbed Kenma's cock. If he could give him this pleasure, it might take away the pain. He pumped, hoping that his felt even a little bit as good as what Kenma's hand had felt like, and pushed in deeper.

"God..."

He was almost all the way in, and Kenma's face was completely red. Mouth wide open, eyes fluttering. He clung to Tetsurou's neck desperately. When he was almost all in, he pulled out a bit, just enough for Kenma to let his breath out. Then he pushed back in, grit his teeth, pressed his thumb against the head of Kenma's cock. After a few repetitions, Kenma had loosened up significantly more. He wasn't so tense, but sweat covered his face and his back, his fingers digging into Tetsurou's skin. He started to go in deeper, go in faster, and Kenma moaned desperately in Tetsurou's ear. With every thrust, Kenma loosened up more, breathed out in a high whimper. Tetsurou watched the pain melt into pleasure—he wasn't as inexperienced as he would have people think. He knew what he was doing. He angled himself differently, slid in and out, probing for Kenma's sweet spot. Kenma pushed his hips down, grinded against him, wrapped his legs around him.

Eventually, it was there. Tetsurou slid down into the sweet spot, and Kenma cried out, falling back down against the carpet. Tetsurou put his lips, his tongue, to Kenma's neck and pumped him, hit the spot again, again, while his own pleasure began to build. He groaned, gravelly, with each thrust, while Kenma let the cries of pleasure sit on his open lips.

"Kuro, I—"

He stole what words Kenma was about to say with a heavy kiss. He held that kiss as he thrust again, as they moaned into each other—as he stiffened, trembled, and they reached the final stage together. Crying each other's names into their ears. Tetsurou rolled over onto his back, panting, Kenma doing the same beside him.

"Whoa," he breathed.

"I didn't realize it would be so good," Kenma whispered.

"Haven't you seen me?" Tetsurou scoffed.

"Kuro?"

"Hmm?"

"Would you stay with me tonight?"

"Of course."

He sat up, exhausted, and got dressed. Then he helped Kenma back into his shorts and sweater, remembering that he'd been wearing his socks the entire time. Without bothering to brush their teeth, they curled up beneath the blankets of Kenma's bed. For about an hour after they'd gotten into bed, Kenma was on his phone. Staring at the screen, the only source of light in the room, as Tetsurou held him and breathed against the back of his neck and braided his hair. Kenma Jr. and Kuroo Jr. joined them on the bed.

Tetsurou wasn't actually sure if Kenma ended up falling asleep.

But when the morning came, and they woke up wrapped up in each other, they saw each other and realized.

Everything was different now.