Kuroo sometimes thought of Kenma as someone out of the world.
It wasn't just the way he secluded himself time to time, or his introverted personality. It was more, more of him, that sometimes looked surreal and kind of ethereal.
It was the way he looked at the people, as if deciphering an enigma. It was the way his smile lightened up his whole face, making his eyes sparkle in unspoken emotion.
It was him, when they were walking home after volleyball practice, showered in moonlight and stars, and the quiet sound of the night.
"Would you stop looking at me that way, Kuro? We're outside"
It was his voice, too, soft and calm, and the way it made him rewind the good memories they had spent together.
"How am I looking at you?"
It was the way he looked at him, and only at him, and the way he could tell what's on his mind just by looking at his eyes.
"I don't know. The way you always look at me when you're deep in thought"
It was the way he avoided his gaze when the feeling got too big and his heart wouldn't stop beating faster and faster as he sees Kenma, all warm and comfortable.
"Can I look at you like this when we're alone, then?"
It was the way the honey of his eyes melted when he met his own again, full of affection that he was not able to put into words.
"You can do whatever you want. But not in public places, Kuro"
It was the way he reacted at his laughter, amuse in his gaze, and how he didn't shut him up even if his laughter was anything but quiet.
It was the way he went home with him, and the way he doesn't even care about Kuro moving around as if it was his own house.
It was the way he welcomed Kuroo in his arms when they reached his room, the way he didn't reject his touches and his love.
It was the way Kenma himself showed Kuroo his love wordlessly, because sometimes words are not necessary, and the way he hugged him and the way his heartbeat rose when their lips met even if it wasn't the first time they've kissed.
It was the way he kissed and touched and made him feel so blessed and full and blissful.
It was the way he was perfect for him, with flaws and everything, and the way he fitted in his arms as if he was made to be there.
It was him, that had him so enchanted, so in love.
It was him, whose he'd never get enough.
Cross posted on ao3.