Kenma stares at the bit of black and white hair he can see peeking out from underneath his comforter. It's not geld in its usual horned fashion nor has its owner emerged to greet him eagerly like he normally would.

Kenma let his bag slip to the floor and cautiously padded across the room kneel uncertainly beside the bed.

"Koutaro." He says simply. That's all he says. Miserable gold eyes slowly peek out at him from the depths of the blankets before darting away. Ashamed. Kenma fought against the tightness in his chest. He never wanted Bokuto to feel ashamed of Kenma witnessing him in one of his slumps. The setter wished he had the words to tell the other that he didn't mind. That he would as safe a place for the other as he knew how to be. But words… words had always been something Kenma struggled with. They were crystal clear in his mind, it wasn't like he struggled to understand his own thoughts it was just- they got stuck. He would try to speak, but all too often his throat would seem to close and the words he wanted to say would instead get stuck.

It was times like these that the fear crept up painfully in his gut. That he wasn't meant to be part of their relationship. That he'd never be able to give what was needed to the people he cared about.

It was easier to forget when the other two were around. A relationship with Akaashi came as easily as breathing. They fit together like missing pieces of a puzzle and Kenma didn't think there would ever be another person who was so perfectly suited to him. And with Kuroo it was good too. While his childhood friend didn't quite have the same intuitive sense of what Kenma wanted and needed, he had been learning how to "speak Kenma" for over a decade and was very good at reading what Kenma meant when words failed him.

Bokuto… shared neither of those things with him. It made it very hard sometimes. And yet… And yet the way Bokuto sometimes looked at him, like he was something to be treasured, made Kenma feel like just maybe he wasn't broken. The way he accepted Kenma's boundaries without question, yet still sought to find the things that Kenma liked so that they could spend time together… Kenma could barely put a word to it. Only that he felt warm and content when Bokuto beamed with happiness. Only that the owl-like boy made Kenma think of words like wild, or free, or precious.

But Kenma still wondered, worried, if maybe he wasn't enough for the other boy. Sometimes, especially when he was in a slump like now, Kenma felt like he really had nothing he could offer the other. Bokuto was a person who thrived on feedback. On praise. On reassurance. Kenma wasn't good at those things. Akaashi was; he was steady, he seemed to know just the right words to say to coax their love out of the depths of self-torment. And Kuroo excelled at physical reassurance. He could draw the other into embrace and simply cuddle with him, could sooth away dark thoughts and doubts with firm and loving touches.

It was moments like these, when both Kuroo and Akaashi were away, that Kenma was aware of how deeply he relied on them to fill in the gaps of his own ineptitude.

"M'sorry Kenma." Mumbled Bokuto miserably, still mostly hiding from him.

"…Why?" asked Kenma softly, still kneeling in front of the bed.

"I came into your room without asking." Sniffled Bokuto. He seriously looked like he expected to get scolded about it.

'I don't mind.' Kenma tried to open his mouth to tell him. 'I don't mind. I care about you. I want to be able to help you when you need me.'

A lump seemed to form in his throat. No sound came out. He wanted to reach out and take the others hand, or maybe stroke his fingers through his hair, but even such simple touches felt like far too much.

Kenma got to his feet and wordlessly went to the closet and began pulling sheets and blankets and pillows from it and dragging them clumsily over to the bed. It wasn't a big one, like the one that the four of them sometimes shared, but Kenma's own for his room so that he could curl up there and have his space when he needed it. Perhaps Bokuto had felt too lonely to go to the other bed without all of them there. The reason wasn't important to Kenma. Bokuto peeked out of the comforter in confusion as Kenma began to haphazardly tuck blankets and pillows around him and above him to create a sort of sloppy fort.

"Are you…? Kenma, did you build me a nest?" asked Bokuto uncertainly sitting up slightly and examining his creation. Kenma hunched his shoulders awkwardly and shrugged noncommittally. Bokuto inhaled shakily, his eyes wide and his cheeks slightly flushed, before he ducked down to hide in his downy surroundings. The blond setter hesitated a moment longer before padding quietly out of the room to the kitchen to heat up some water. He carefully took steadying breaths. Tried to let the stillness and peace of the empty space seep into him and steady his anxious heart. When the kettle whistled he poured it into a tea pot and put it onto a tray with a pair of mugs and some hot coco packets and a huge bag of marshmallows.

"Do you… want…?" asked Kenma hesitantly when he'd returned with the tray. Bokuto quickly snapped his mouth shut from where it had fallen open and nodded hurriedly. Kenma quickly set the tray on the desk right next to his bed fixed Bokuto his sugary drink.

"Thank you very much." Mumbled Bokuto when he handed him the cup. Kenma nodded jerkily without meeting his eyes as he set about making his own drink. When he held his own warm cup in his hands Kenma hesitated. Chancing a glance at the other he caught sight of the white haired man's hopeful expression. Uncertainly, Bokuto patted the blankets next to him. An invitation. Close, but not too close. Kenma swallowed… that was… doable.

Handing Bokuto his cup, Kenma carefully settled next to him wiggling into some blankets as he did so. The blond let the warmth of his surroundings soak into him and let out a soft puff of contentment. He reached for his cup but Bokuto held onto it a moment longer making the setter pause and glance up into bright gold eyes that had already lost much of heaviness they'd carried earlier.

"Hey hey hey, Kenma," said Bokuto shuffling forward a little, "You're really really special to me, you know that right?"

Kenma's eyes darted away and he felt his cheeks burn with heat. He tugged his cup out of the other's grip and determinedly took a sip trying to distract himself. He chanced a glance back at Bokuto from behind his hair, but he had already gone back to his sweet drink and was making little cooing/humming sounds as he licked marshmallow off his lips. He didn't seem to require a response to his declaration, seeming content with having simply put it out there. Still though…

Hesitantly, Kenma gave Bokuto's shoulder a shy little head-butt… almost a nuzzle, and looked up at him from under his lashes in embarrassment.

"Koutaro… also… to me…" Kenma swallowed in frustration, unable to say it all but… Bokuto was beaming at him. Like it didn't matter that he couldn't say the whole thing right now. Like he couldn't be happier with Kenma just how he was.

Kenma gave a shy smile back.