In Winter the Taste of Your Lips

Theme: Seasons

There is a certain freshness about the air that comes only during winter. It's crisp, sharp and brittle like a film of ice over a freshly frozen pond – you hear it crack and the intake of break stops you cold upon its surface. Far from the heavy meters high snowfall in the north of the country around Hokkaido and even Sendai, Central Tokyo's winters were relatively mild. Not warm, but the snow was rarely a hindrance. It was the still as death cold that seeped as far in as the marrow of your bones – a slow acting poison to those outside – that was the source of consternation.

With an average winter temperature that rarely dipped below minus five degrees, one might even laugh at the thought of such a temperature being considered cold. But it was. Especially for Kuroo Tetsurou as he sat idly on the train platform at Gotanda station. He had no reason for being there. The station wasn't near Nekoma or his neighborhood, lying somewhere between. But he hadn't wanted to stay near Nekoma where anyone he knew might easily find him, nor did he want to go home. So he'd just randomly gotten off and sat right there, on a bench just a few feet away from the Daily Yamazaki, staring blankly ahead as the trains passed by.

"If I have to explain it, you won't understand."

That had been the single sentence that had started it all.

Kuroo liked to think that he was a patient person. He cared about Kenma more than anyone else and sure he didn't have all the answers, but given that Kenma hardly spoke to him about anything of substance, he thought he did pretty damn good. He wasn't a saint. Not even remotely close. Things like anger, frustration, insecurity, sadness… they weren't beyond him. He did a good job of schooling his expressions to reflect only what he wanted others to see – a general lofty and carefree attitude that pressured no one and required nothing from anyone. Praise and assurance were things he really didn't need, he could do without them, overt shows of affection too he could do without even though sometimes he did get the urge to just snatch Kenma up into a bone crushing hug and kiss him stupid right in front of everyone. Of course he'd never act on such an impulse – Kenma would probably get so pissed off he wouldn't have been allowed near him for a month, and that thought alone was cringe worthy enough to keep him from acting on it.

He didn't need much, but he did need Kenma. Just a slight glimmer of thanks in those golden catlike eyes he loved so much was enough to keep him going for days – that feeling that Kenma needed him. So when he'd heard those words… he'd just snapped.

Why? Why didn't Kenma need him? Was it so hard to try to explain so that he would understand?

Kuroo shivered cursing his stupidity at having stormed out without even heading back to the clubroom to get his jacket – just in his uniform sweats. It was cold. So very cold. It hadn't been at first, it had come on slowly like a terminal disease, first chilling the sweat on his brow, then sinking through his skin, into his blood and down to his bones. He felt it to his very core. But more than his cheeks and ears blistered red from exposure to the biting cold, he felt it in his chest cavity… he felt it in his gut…. An overwhelmingly lonely aching chill.

"Well explain it to me."

"If I have to explain it, you wouldn't understand," Kenma said with a shrug picking up the ball that was by his feet. "There's no point."

It hurt. It had hurt pretty damn bad to hear Kenma say it like that, as if he'd never be able to connect. No point? For a moment there Kuroo had to wonder what it was exactly Kenma was saying there was no point in. No point in asking? No point in telling? No point in their relationship? No point in his feelings? The fear and anxiety had writhed in his chest, making him nauseous, made him ill. And in a natural defence to keep back the pain, came the anger in full force.

"Fuck Kenma, it's you who doesn't understand!"

Kuroo's hands clenched on his lap recalling Kenma's expression. That pinched pout of confusion. Kenma hadn't understood the reason Kuroo was mad at all. And it just had to be today. The last day of practice and classes before the winter break. They were supposed to go out, or rather stay in for Christmas since Kenma didn't want to go out. Both of their families had taken off to visit back home – Kuroo's folks in Shimane, Kenma's in Fukushima. With no one around, Kenma was supposed to stay with him for the week. Kuroo had been looking forward to it since they'd decided. It had been over a month since he'd last gotten a chance to just hold Kenma. Between practice and classes – because he couldn't neglect them with entrance exams right around the corner – Kuroo had his hands full, and still he made sure to walk Kenma to and from school – that had been the only alone time he could get lately and the restraint had been weathering him like a rock splitting a river.

Kuroo had picked up all the movies Kenma had wanted to see, bought that new monster hunter game he'd been wanting to play, and stocked up on the snacks and drinks Kenma liked. Kuroo had even dragged the kotatsu out of storage and set it up in the living room, because he just knew the warmth of a kotatsu was something Kenma wouldn't be able to resist. He'd prepared everything with such care, so stupidly excited and now it wasn't going to happen. Why would it? He'd told Kenma to take care of himself. To stay away from him. He'd said all manner of things in the moment out of anger and anguish. Nothing he meant – he would likely die if Kenma ever decided to stay away from him for real. But sense and restraint had flew out the proverbial window and Kuroo had just wanted to make him hurt, to make Kenma feel even the slightest twitch of pain and shake that expression into something, anything besides that calm barely ruffled confusion. It was a dirty, ugly feeling and Kuroo felt self-loathing rear its nasty head in response. How the hell could he even think of wanting to hurt the person he loved? Was he really so petty?

What's worse, the whole team had been there, had watched in disbelieving stupor as the pillars of their team were colliding. Their stunned silence still resonated in his mind. Kai and Yaku's pitying expressions, not sure what to say. Fukunaga and Shibayama had even been near tears – whether from worry or fright at his outburst, Kuroo didn't know. Even the normally more cheerful and flambouyant members of their group – Taketora, Lev and Inuoka – had distress written clearly in their eyes. His stupid outburst had rattled the whole team. If thinking he was a bad boyfriend hadn't been punishment enough, Kuroo couldn't help thinking what a pathetic captain he made bringing his personal shit into the gym.

Snow began to fall. The frigid chill in the air deepening with the coming darkness of evening. He'd surely catch his death from fever or something if he chose to stay out any longer without at least acquiring proper winter attire, so reluctantly he heaved himself up, catching the next passing train.

As his eyes followed the blurring streets past the train window, Kuroo wondered if Kenma had gotten home alright. He'd left when he was supposed to walk home with Kenma, he hadn't really needed to, but Kenma had brought his duffle with stuff for the week to school with him. That had to mean he was looking forward to it at least a little bit too, right? So why? Why had he done that? Why couldn't he keep it locked inside just a bit longer?

When Kuroo finally returned home he was shocked to see Kenma siting on his front step, Kuroo's jacket lying over his lap, cheeks red from the cold and lips tinged blue.

"Kenma?"

Golden eyes looked up from the game in his hands, fingers too… cold, stiff movements… how long had he been sitting there. And a better question, why?

"Why are you here?"

Kenma frowned, brows furrowing. "We had plans didn't we?"

"Yeah but- after earlier…"

"Did you want me to leave?"

"No!" Kuroo said perhaps a bit too desperately.

"Then what's the problem?" Kenma asked standing and dusting the snow off his pants, shaking Kuroo's jacket out before holding it out to him.

"I said things…" Kuroo trailed off accepting the jacket but not saying a word.

"I was surprised."

Whole body tensing for a scolding or complaint, Kuroo's hands fisted in his bunched up jacket.

"But you were upset. I thought I was the only one who couldn't be understood but it became clear to me that I don't know you as well as I thought I did."

What did that mean? Did that mean Kenma was done? Was he here to say he couldn't be with Kuroo anymore because he wasn't the person he thought he knew? Swallowing the bile in his throat, Kuroo braced himself for the worst.

"I won't apologize. I don't think what I said was wrong, but I don't think what you sad was entirely wrong either so you don't have to say anything. Let's just go inside. It's cold. I'm cold. You know I hate the cold. Take responsibility. Warm me up."

Kuroo's head emptied in an instant. What the fuck had just happened? Fumbling with his keys, Kuroo held the door open for Kenma to enter.

"Ah wait. The living room," Kuroo called when Kenma made to head upstairs as usual.

"Oh, I didn't know you had a kotatsu," Kenma said, eyes gleaming as he peeked into the room.

"I pulled it out of storage. We have central heating so we don't really use it," Kuroo said picking up the cord lying beneath the wall socket and plugged it in. Was Kenma not upset with him at all?

"Why? They're so comfortable and warm," Kenma near purred as he slid his legs under the comforter, the electric heater already beginning to work its magic, heat infusing from the small space into him and chasing back the cold that had settled into his body.

"Yeah…" Kuroo acknowledged awkwardly, still standing by the wall.

"Not going to join me?" Kenma asked falling back to his forearms, head tilted all the way back to look at Kuroo without turning. Golden eyes darkened with irritation at the hesitance in the inverted Kuroo behind him. "Kuroo~"

"Sorry," Kuroo muttered walking over and taking a seat opposite Kenma – another fact that caused the displeasure in Kenma's expression to increase.

"You were really scary you know," Kenma said, sitting up to meet Kuroo's gaze seriously. "Everyone was shocked, you even made Shouhei and Yuuki cry."

Kuroo's shoulders tensed, jaw tightening. "Were you scared?"

Regarding Kuroo for a moment, Kenma could tell how much he was dreading his reply. "No. I may not understand everything about you, but what I do know is that you're kind and you'd never do anything to hurt me – not intentionally at the very least – so I'm not scared of you Kuroo. Even when you bristle like a temperamental alley cat."

Furrowed brows, unconvinced yellow ocher eyes.

"Come on Kuroo, we've known each other since we were kids," Kenma sighed. "Help me out here."

"You're here… It's just I'm not sure if I'm imaging it," Kuroo said, eyes glazed, somewhat distant, pleading. "Are you really here right now Kenma? Or did I fuck up so bad you'll never talk to me again."

Kenma opened his mouth to speak. Stopped, closing it. Opened it again. Sighed, brows furrowing as he shifted his legs beneath him, reaching across the table and grabbing Kuroo by the front of his shirt. Yanking him forward and rising on his knees to meet him half way, Kenma's lips met Kuroo's. Brief. Dry. Chapped. Traces of cold still lingering there. Tasting of the winter wind and freshly fallen snow. When Kenma pulled away Kuroo's eyes were wide, and tears of relief trickled from the corners of his eyes.

"When you asked me out… When you asked me out, you told me you loved me. I said the same. That you would think my feelings so shallow I'd get mad and leave you for something this stupid really makes me mad," Kenma huffed sitting back on his heels. "Tell me, Kuroo, are you the idiot here for thinking I don't? Or am I for thinking you do?"

"I do! More than anything in this life. Only you."

A sigh of relief released the tension from Kenma's body as he slumped forward onto the tabletop, cheek resting against the smooth woodgrain. "Good. I wouldn't have forgiven you otherwise."

"Kenma."

"Yeah?"

"I want to hold you."

"Yeah, and? I'm not the one who went and purposefully sat on the other side of the kotatsu," Kenma grumbled.

Silence. A grin slowly splitting Kuroo's lips. Then laughter. Mirthful. Relieved. Thankful.

"O-oi!"

Kenma flailed falling flat on his back as Kuroo ducked under the kotatsu, tugging him forward by the ankle playfully as he crawled to the other side.

"I-idiot your hands are cold!" Kenma flushed as Kuroo's fingers skimmed up his sides, dipping beneath him and arms wrapping around his torso, soft unkempt hair tickling against his stomach as his shirt rode up to his chest. Lifting the edge of the comforter, Kenma glared lightly down at Kuroo's childishly grinning face.

"I love you Kenma."

"I know," Kenma said, expression softening affectionately. "Now get out from under there, it's dangerous. If you touch the heater, you'll get burned."

End

A/N: Here you go some angst and fluff during winter my two favorite kittens. With the seasons complete, it's onward to the touch theme for #kurokenmonth on tumblr. I'm leaving for Japan on Tuesday, so I'm not sure how things will go from here. But I'll try to have the touch theme fic up sometime tomorrow and we'll go from there.

As always thanks for reading, all comments are very much welcomed and appreciated :)