another project that came to fruition thanks to the brilliant brainpower lent to me by the two loves of my life! big thanks to my eclair-loving friend E and my equally thirsty and supportive beta Ha-chan for joining me in the religion that is worshipping our lord and savior and ideal boyfriend character Kuroo Tetsurou. u guys are the best mwah i appreciate u both always 3
disclaimer: i don't own hq!
Maybe I'm a Little Bit in Love
the 3000 yen competitive flirting au
::
"I wonder what falling in love feels like," Kenma says on one faithful spring day, seconds after Yaku finishes retelling his experience of being romantically confessed to by the new half-Russian exchange student, Haiba Lev. They're sitting in the middle of a crowded family restaurant; Hinata and Yaku are staring at him, stunned, as does Akaashi, with his spoonful of eggplant curry hovering a mere inch away from his mouth.
"I'm just curious," Kenma explains casually to his friends, undeterred by the clear shift in the atmosphere, as if his words hadn't just caused the whole world to shatter by his feet. "I mean, all of you have boyfriends now, so that makes me the only single one in our group. It's not weird for me to want to know what makes it so special, right?"
"Kenma!" Hinata shrieks excitedly as he slams his palms against the table, bits of pork cutlet jumping from his plate and sauce droplets flying into the air. Beside him, Yaku flinches with mild disgust while Hinata continues his pitch with unbridled enthusiasm, "Do you want me to set you up? I know a guy! Or do you prefer girls? My friend can help you there too! I could also ask Kageyama, he probably knows someone who knows someo–"
"Don't, Hinata," Yaku warns as he wipes off the mess on his forearm with a tissue. "Kenma hates forced interaction, remember?"
Akaashi, having finally gathered his bearings, nods and finishes chewing his food.
"Oh! That's true," Hinata agrees, lifting a hand to his chin as he seems to regard the other's advice as something almost sage-like. Hinata falls silent, which is a rare feat in all the years they've known each other, and tries to think hard – an even greater rarity, Kenma's mind can't help but supply.
"You don't have to force yourself, you know," Yaku tells him kindly in reassurance.
"But if ever you are genuinely interested in finding a relationship of your own," Akaashi's level voice cuts in to suggest, "then I think Bokuto-san knows of a person who might be able to help."
:: Sunday ::
Kenma regrets ever opening his mouth.
"A little birdie told me you were looking for a lover," the stranger says when they first meet at a café, donning a cheeky smile and an even cheekier hairstyle. His fringe falls over his eyes. "Well, congratulations! You've come to the right place. I'm plenty experienced when it comes to dating so I'm practically a love expert. Anything romance, or relationships, I'm your guy."
"Uh...huh," Kenma answers lamely, shaking Self-Proclaimed Love Expert-san's outstretched hand in an attempt to be polite. "I'm Kozume Kenma,' he introduces himself, "I'll be in your care, um…?"
"Kuroo Tetsurou," the stranger grins, "at your service."
They sit at a table by the window, sliding into their seats positioned across from one another. The waitress arrives to jot down their orders, hastily scribbling them into her memo, before offering them cups of water as a courtesy.
Kuroo initiates conversation once she departs, leaning in closer with his elbows propped upon the table. "So, Kozume-kun…"
"Kenma," he corrects.
"Oh wow, first name basis already? How lewd." Kuroo lets out a gasp, fake and overtly theatrical, and lifts a hand to cover his chest. "I didn't expect you to be so intimate right away, Kenma-kun," he says while obnoxiously batting his eyes. "Or would you prefer I just call you that in bed?"
Kenma ignores him. "You can drop the honorific," he says, nonchalant. "Just 'Kenma' is fine."
Kuroo raises his eyebrows suggestively and winks. "Someone's getting raunchy," he teases.
"No," Kenma shakes his head, mildly annoyed, "that's not what I meant."
"Then what?"
"I'm just not a fan of imposed seniority," he explains.
"Hmm," Kuroo hums softly to himself, sparing Kenma from further comment. "Alright, just call me Kuroo, then."
"Okay," Kenma agrees, eyeing the other boy and his untameable case of what Kenma assumes to be bedhead, "Kuroo."
The waitress arrives with their orders in tow, setting down a chocolate eclair and freshly baked slice of apple pie. They dig in, and Kuroo takes this as an opportunity to launch into a well-rehearsed spiel about how he's picked up girls from different campuses and the varying arsenal of dating techniques he'd developed on hand with his experience. Kenma interjects with commentary every now and then, whenever Kuroo pauses mid-speech to ask for his input.
"Sorry," Kenma says as he sips water from his glass, "I don't think this will work after all–"
"What? Why?" Kuroo asks. "Is it that–? Don't worry, Kenma, I'll have you know my flirting strategies are very effective in getting both boyfriends and girlfriends alike. Trust me. After all, who could say no to the charismatic appeal of the Kuroo Tetsurou brand of irresistible, boyish charm?"
"...Sounds fake but okay."
"More like it sounds as though you don't believe me," Kuroo huffs, frowning. "Hmph. Well, excuse you, but the fact still remains that I have tons of admirers out there chasing after me."
"Are you sure it isn't the opposite?" Kenma says as he stabs at the remainder of his pie. "Your massive ego could also probably be chasing them away."
"Ha-ha. Very funny, smartass," Kuroo says dryly as he crosses his arms. "You say that as if you've never once considered me attractive. But that'll change soon, don't worry."
Kenma feels a vein throb in irritation. He shoves a forkful of pastry into his mouth. "No, it won't."
"Oh, yes. It will."
"It won't."
"It will."
"Won't"
"Will."
"Won't."
"Will."
"Won't."
"I can do this with you for days, you know," Kuroo warns him, taunting. "Try me. It will."
"Won't," Kenma counters, "And I highly doubt that will be enough to change my opinion. I mean, sorry, Kuroo, no offense, but...you're not exactly my type."
"None taken," Kuroo answers breezily with a smile, all lazy and cat-like. "I'd offer my apologies to be fair, because frankly, neither are you."
"Oh," Kenma says, somehow unsure if he should feel relieved or insulted at that. But then again, he isn't all too surprised. He settles for both. "Okay. Cool, I guess. So can you explain to me why we're still arguing, then? What's the point of all your provocations?"
"Because a real man always takes pride in his abilities," Kuroo answers zealously as he swallows the last of his eclair. He points a finger in Kenma's way. "You insulted my skills, so I now have to stand up for myself. Give me a week and I'll show you I have exactly what it takes to win over someone's heart!"
Kenma gulps, swallowing hard as he finishes his pie. "Is that...supposed to be a threat?"
"No, it's a challenge. In one week's time, I can make you fall in love with me," Kuroo declares as he rises from the table and makes his way towards the counter. "I'll sweep you off your damn feet, Kozume Kenma. Just you wait."
"Yeah right," Kenma scoffs, tucking his fork to the corner of the plate before he follows the other's lead. "As if your playboy philosophy on love is really going to work on me."
"At least I have a philosophy, unlike some people," Kuroo drawls in response, as he waggles his index finger back up haughtily in the air. They queue up in line at the cashier. "What do you even know about love anyway?"
"I know enough to tell you that your philosophy is useless, not to mention stereotypical and lame," Kenma sighs. "Kuroo, I look at you and all I see is that–"
"Ohohoho…? So you've been looking at me, huh. I'm flattered."
"Shut up."
"Like what you see?"
"Not at all. The view makes me want to gouge my eyeballs out from their sockets right now, if I were to be honest," Kenma comments flatly as he waits for their turn. "You have ridiculous hair."
The taller boy looks back down at him, expression clearly affronted. "You mispronounced 'stylish'."
"Kuroo, you are literally a walking cliché. It's annoying."
"As if you could do any better."
"I probably could," Kenma says after a thoughtful pause, stepping forward. "Anyone can. You set the bar too low, it's not like it's hard."
"Big talk from a small person," Kuroo remarks while the cashier rings up their orders. He places his payment on the tray. "Listen, blondie, it's impossible for you to out-flirt me. As in...there is just no way in hell I could ever let that happen."
"Wanna bet?" Kenma offers, tossing in a 5000 bill and pocketing the change. "Loser pays three thousand yen to treat the winner to lunch."
"Oh," Kuroo answers with a smirk. "You're on."
:: Monday ::
The mechanics are simple: every day for the rest of the week they will each take turns to pull off one flirting strategy while their opponent keeps score.
To keep things realistic, the two of them mutually agreed to opt for pre-planned activities so long as they don't interfere with the other's life schedule. In Kuroo's case, his attendance in volleyball training was nonnegotiable. In Kenma's, Kuroo is prohibited from disturbing him in the middle of his gaming streams.
Surprise attacks, however, are allowed.
As expected, Kuroo is the one to play offense first. He drops off flowers on Kenma's desk at school first thing in the morning, coupled with a neatly packaged copy of Monster Hunter: Frontier G wrapped with a bright red ribbon tied into a bow.
Kenma isn't in the classroom yet when he arrives, though Kuroo pretty much guessed that the blond wasn't much of a morning person to begin with. Kuroo leaves the present behind and opts to stick around the junior classrooms by loitering with Bokuto the next room over, making small talk with Akaashi while his teammate seizes the opportunity to shower his boyfriend in less than subtle displays of puppy-love-like affection.
Kenma doesn't notice Kuroo at first when he hastily shuffles into the classroom, walking briskly with his head held low and gaze fixed towards the ground. Out in the hallway, Kuroo manages to overhear bits and pieces of their conversations, straining his ears to make out parcels of Kenma's dialogue with a nameless female voice.
"Kozume-san, a senior came by earlier looking for you," a classmate says as soon as Kenma slides the door closed. "Some tall guy with messy hair. Do you know him?"
"When?"
"What?"
"When did he arrive?" he hears Kenma ask. "How long has it been since he left?"
"Like two minutes ago?"
He hears the clatter of metal as Kenma abandons his things and rushes out the classroom. Kuroo meets his gaze not long afterward, a triumphant smile on his face when he sees Kenma standing with the videogame in his hand and bouquet of flowers in tow.
"Kuroo!" he shouts, with all force in his voice that he can muster, "Do you love me?"
Starting the day at eight a.m. with a confession right off the bat? A bold move from such a quiet boy. But also how very typical, Kuroo thinks with an impressed raise of his brows, for Kenma to be the one laying out the foundations of their love story first thing in the morning – casting aside the potential mess of speculative gossip by bulldozing the halls with a showy and overt display of affection to confirm all their classmates' suspicions.
But Kuroo Tetsurou isn't the school's resident heartthrob and master of flirty relationships for nothing, so he keeps his cool and decides to play along.
"Yes, Kenma," he announces, loud and bold and brazen, "I do love you. After all that I told you yesterday, do you still feel the need to doubt?"
Kenma's ears are tinged red as he flushes from Kuroo's effortless remark, but the smaller boy holds his ground steadily and presses on with his confession.
"Nobody's ever told me that they've felt that way about me before," Kenma admits, his voice wavering but still forcibly made loud. "I think I could love you, Kuroo. Honestly, I want to try. But it scares me to think I'll have to make myself so vulnerable. To make myself trust," he says. "I can't really seem to wrap my head around the thought of myself being liked and wanted by others. Even now I find it hard to believe the feelings you have for me are real."
Wow, Kuroo thinks, because that sure is a lot of talking especially for someone as taciturn as Kozume Kenma. He's almost touched by the effort. Kuroo decides to reciprocate his attempts.
"But they are," he says, answer calm and gentle and almost well-rehearsed. "Everything is. I love you in all your parts and little moments, Kenma. You deserve the world and I will try my best to give it to you," he continues, "to give you everything that I can because I love you. I love you so, so much. I would die for you. I would take a bullet for you," Kuroo adds, the final kill, "I would do anything for you."
"Really" Kenma asks, and he looks up at Kuroo with golden, watery eyes. "You'd do all that for me?"
(And really, really, Kuroo should have seen this coming.)
"Yes, I would," Kuroo swears to him then, before tacking on for good measure, "for you. Anything."
Kenma makes a show of going up to Kuroo to hug him. Kuroo follows through with his act and wraps his arms around the lithe boy's petite frame. In the background, the crowd of students cheer supportively for the development of the new couple while Bokuto fusses over Akaashi, the latter having gone still with pure shellshock from his friend's uncharacteristic outburst.
In the cradle of his embrace, Kenma beckons softly to call out to him. Kuroo leans in almost indulgently just as Kenma takes the chance to whisper sweetly in the other's ear:
"Then take me out for lunch already, sucker."
Oh, he'd fallen for it. Kenma had dangled the target in front of him coyly while Kuroo dove in deep and took the bait, had fallen for his saccharine words and innocent act all in an instant – hook, line, and sinker.
That little shit.
That fucking gremlin.
That devil.
"Only if you pay for it," Kuroo mumbles as he presses a kiss against Kenma's forehead, refusing to lose, and smiles, "sweetheart."
:: Tuesday ::
They have lunch together by the stairway at Kenma's insistence, because Nekoma High School is a hotpot of shoujo manga clichés and Kenma was more than certain that every other high school couple in their year would already be eating on the rooftop.
Honestly, Kenma thinks, what was even the point of having lunch on the rooftop when you have five other couples in your immediate proximity? This wasn't a hanami. Their faculty should just issue reservation forms for students to save themselves the trouble of securing a private flirting space during lunch hour. Kaido and Yumehara can take their shift on Mondays, Kenma and – his temporary placeholder of a boyfriend – Kuroo on Tuesdays, Hiiragizawa and Daidouji on Wednesdays, and so on. But, he digresses, with the lack of foresight on the part of their administration, there's little else he can do but make the most out of their campus' scarce space and limited resources.
"There's your grilled mackerel," Kenma says as he points to the tupperware resting unceremoniously on the second step of the west wing fire escape, "and here's the rice."
"Looks great," Kuroo says eagerly as his face lights up at the sight of the sanma. Kenma smiles, pleased, just as Kuroo takes a whiff. The way to a man's heart is through his stomach after all.
Then Kuroo claps his hands twice and mutters an enthusiastic prayer of thanks just before he digs in, and Kenma thinks it almost makes the nine band-aids he'd wrapped around his fingers this morning worth it.
Kenma opens the tupperware of Kuroo's homemade bento and finds a variety of dishes inside. It looks mostly ordinary, not as aesthetically profound as the products of Kenma's plating abilities, but there's a balanced array of colors and flavors to make it look appealing enough. The ingredients, Kenma imagines, are sweet and savory and probably healthy too. He pauses.
"Vegetables," Kenma identifies wryly, "really, Kuroo? Vegetables?"
"Don't give me that face, you big baby. They're good for you," Kuroo insists after shovelling down a mouthful of rice. "I made sure to balance everything out, okay, from your proteins and your carbs all the way down to your greens. You have to eat healthier, Kenma. Did you know that edamame has all nine amino acids? That means it's a super legume packed with protein. Not to mention fiber!"
Kenma rolls his eyes. He says, "Nerd."
"Don't knock it before you try it," Kuroo replies as he ushers Kenma to start eating, "I also flavored the onigiri with salmon so you can get a bit of your omega-3, then I rolled the asparagus in with the beef so it wouldn't taste gross. Plus, I made you dessert. So finish your food and I'll reward you with your favorite apple pie."
"How did you know it's my favorite?"
"I remembered you ordered it at the café the other day," Kuroo shrugs. "You looked pretty happy eating it, so it wasn't too difficult for me to guess."
"Oh," Kenma says dumbly, cheeks warm with surprise. Kuroo is exceptionally observant, far more than he'd initially given the upperclassman credit for. Kenma busies himself with his chopsticks and takes a bite out of the asparagus roll – it's absolutely delicious. Who knew this seemingly party animal socialite was actually such a good domestic cook?
"Oh, see? You like my cooking," Kuroo points out smugly, noticing the brightness of Kenma's expression, just as Kenma munches on seasoned edamame. "Delicious, isn't it? Enough to make you fall in love? Are you enamored with me yet? Captivated? Infatuated? Smitten, my kitten?"
Kenma swallows hard and feels his face turn sour.
"That was terrible," he tells Kuroo with utmost seriousness. "I want to claw out my eardrums. Gross. Traumatic. 0 over 10. Never say that again or I'll start charging a fine."
Kuroo lifts his wrist to his temple. "You wound me, darling."
"Still gross," Kenma shakes his head. "Not helping."
"Sweetheart, then," Kuroo grins.
"Kuroo," Kenma warns him sternly, "no."
"Honey."
"Kuroo..."
"Pumpkin."
"Kuroo, stop."
"Baby."
"Kuro–"
"Babe–"
"Tetsurou."
Kuroo nearly chokes.
"Don't tell me that made your heart skip a beat," Kenma tells him off, smugly, as Kuroo hacks up a lung and wills the mackerel to rid itself from his esophagus. Kenma hands his upperclassman his canteen of water out of a remorseful sense of pity.
"Try me, bitch," Kuroo retorts while spluttering, though he takes Kenma's peace offering with a wordless nod of thanks. "You just caught me off-guard," Kuroo reasons in between desperate gulps, promptly changing the topic, "but it was nothing compared to your performance yesterday, I admit. 'Nobody's ever told me that they've felt that way about me before.' Wow, bravo, my little thespian. I think that deserves an encore."
"Ugh, shut up," Kenma groans.
"You've got guts, kid," Kuroo quips, heedless and unyielding. "I thought you hated attention."
"It was the fastest way to get people to stop bothering me with questions about you. I figured I should just rip off the bandaid and get it over with," Kenma grumbles as he nibbles on his onigiri. "Besides, at least one of us has to try to make this dating thing look believable to avoid more questions. Your flower attempt yesterday totally flopped."
"Hey! Do you have something against flowers? What's wrong with giving them to the person that you like, huh?"
"Nothing," Kenma says coolly, finishing his main meal before moving on to dessert. "Except for the fact that yellow carnations mean disappointment and rejection. I thought the point of this was for you to try to woo me, not insult me."
"What?!" Kenma takes a bite out of his pie in triumph, enjoying the fruits of Kuroo's culinary prowess. Kuroo whips his head to face Kenma with incredulity. "Where did you learn that? Are you some kind of floriography expert?"
"No, but you pick up a lot of things when playing medieval RPGs," Kenma replies with a mild shrug before he eyes Kuroo's half-emptied food container warily. "Also, do you always eat this slowly? Or do you just not like my food? I thought you wanted grilled mackerel." He pouts.
Kuroo shakes his head, adamant. "Oh, no, yeah, totally. Don't worry, Kenma, it's really good!"
"If it's really good, why haven't you finished your food yet?"
"Because I'm savoring it," Kuroo answers stubbornly, forcing down another mouthful of grilled mackerel and rice to punctuate his words. He adds a muffled, "Becaughff i'sh rewrry thaff gouh!"
Kenma narrows his eyes with suspicion. "Let me taste," he says and reaches for Kuroo's plate.
"No!" Kuroo cries, eating off of Kenma's chopsticks with bullheaded determination. "How's that for an indirect kiss?" he screeches mid-chew in an effort to distract him.
Fortunately for Kuroo, Kenma rises to the challenge. He rushes to grab Kuroo's water jug and quickly chugs down its contents, making sure to drink from the exact same spot Kuroo had done so earlier.
"Pretty good for a first, thanks," Kenma answers back obstinately as he wipes at his face with his sleeve. At this, Kuroo goes still and watches him in dumbfounded awe. Unfortunately for Kuroo, Kenma seizes this opportunity to swipe the mackerel from beneath him, popping the bounty into his mouth victoriously as he flashes Kuroo a sly smile.
It doesn't last very long.
The look on Kenma's face morphs quickly into nausea. At this point, Kuroo surmises that Kenma has probably realized by now that the taste of his victory is probably the farthest thing from sweet.
"Oh god," Kenma mutters when he realizes he'd put in way too much salt. "That was disgusting. I can't believe you even managed to stomach half of this. Why didn't you say anything?"
"Yeah, you're right. It was. Sorry," Kuroo admits with a rueful smile, "but it would've been a waste–"
"Idiot," Kenma mutters, sighing, as he nudges his tupperware towards Kuroo. "Here," he says, "don't eat that. I'm the one who's sorry. Let's just, uh, split the pie."
:: Wednesday ::
"Hey, honeybunch," Kuroo greets as he drops by Kenma's classroom during self-study hour. "I couldn't help but notice you back in class earlier today. You seemed kind of cold so I'll lend you my jacket, you know, like the loving and caring boyfriend that I am."
"Uh, thanks?" Kenma says albeit quizzically, accepting the proffered clothing item and immediately putting it on. At the same moment, Kuroo's brain decides to spontaneously combust. "It smells like you."
"Oh?" Kuroo says, mouth forming into the shape of a lowercase 'o,' "What makes you say that?" he forces himself to ask, voice perceivably strangled, a milestone in his colossal attempts to sound coherent.
"Because it reeks of salonpas and your day-old armpit sweat?" Kenma tells him as he raises one arm up and sniffs, nose wrinkling as he makes a face. "Also you should probably consider changing your brand of cologne," he says, though Kuroo is currently too preoccupied to be insulted.
Now, Kuroo would be blind to say that he hadn't noticed their significant height difference. Kenma is a boy who stands at a humble height of approximately five and a half feet while Kuroo is a six-foot volleyball star athlete who towered over most of Japan's student body population. Obviously, his jacket was going to fit the other boy loosely. But this? This was far from what he'd expected.
His red varsity jacket is huge on Kenma – the seams of its shoulders drop, unable to be filled in, while the rest of the fabric drapes down low until it ends, cutting off somewhere across Kenma's mid-thigh. The fit of Kuroo's jacket is incredibly oversized. It makes Kenma's already petite frame look even more...small. Tiny. Delicate. Adorable? Like something that makes Kuroo feel he is meant to be protected.
Kenma has probably noticed the way Kuroo's eyes are glazed over by now. Kuroo, however, doesn't seem to notice that he's noticed yet because he's too busy muttering profanities under his breath – what with the telltale hitch of his voice as he half-croaks, half-whispers his newfound belief in the gods.
But then Kenma's fingers poke out from long sleeves, thin hands not quite reaching all the way up to the end, and Kuroo doubles over with a wheeze, white knuckles clutching desperately at the fabric of his left pant leg. When Kenma looks up to face him with apparent concern, Kuroo forces himself to practice the varying techniques of deep breathing.
"Sorry," Kenma mumbles, "are you angry? Did I go too far?"
Kuroo exhales and lets out a soft, shuddering breath. He brings his hand up shakily and drapes it over the left of his chest. Kuroo looks up and towards the ceiling, a mortal in worship, and prays to the higher gods to lend him their strength.
"Uh, Kuroo…?" Kenma calls out, honey eyes lifting upwards as he gazes at him with worry. Inside of him, Kuroo's gut twists with temptation. "Are you okay?"
Kuroo Tetsurou is a weak, weak man.
"Ten points," Kuroo rasps, strangled.
"What."
"What?"
Kenma shoots him a look that borders on both irritated and confused.
"Did you. Just...grade yourself?" Kenma snaps at him, perplexed, as he brings a hand up to massage at his temples. "I thought each strategy was worth one point? Are you cheati–"
Realization clicks just as Kenma cuts himself off. Kuroo scrambles to regain whatever morsels of honor he still has left, raging teenage hormones be damned, and he clears his throat with a weak cough in a meek attempt to patch up the pieces of the tattered scraps of his dignity.
"Oh, sorry 'bout that," Kuroo sneers obnoxiously as he sticks his chin out in a small show of contempt. "If it smells so bad I guess I'll just take it back then–"
"Too late. I'm already wearing it," Kenma smirks, looking more than usually self-satisfied. "You know the rules. No take backs."
"Since when the fuck did jackets have rules?" Kuroo feebly protests. He wonders if this is what it means for man to make a deal with the devil. "And what kind of rule is that even, Kenma? You just made it up, you little...jacket thief!"
Kenma replies with a shrug, the corners of his mouth curling upwards into a coy smile.
"Since now. Since today. I've promulgated the decision so now it's official," Kenma declares with a finality that leaves Kuroo entertaining the idea that Kozume Kenma is best likened to the demon lord himself. "You're not allowed to take back your stinky jacket," Kenma says.
"I thought you didn't like my stinky jacket?"
"You're right. I don't," Kenma grouses, "but it's cold so I'll still wear it even if it stinks. It's fine, Kuroo."
::
Kenma pays a visit to the gym later during training. Kuroo is in the middle of receiving drills when Kenma arrives, so he whips out his PSP and waits until their coach calls for a water break. It doesn't take long for him to spot Kuroo heading over to the benches to approach him.
"Caught you staring," Kuroo teases, voice glib, as he wipes the sweat off his neck with a towel. "Fallen for me yet?"
"Hah. You wish." Kenma presses pause on his console and lets the game rest frozen on his lap. He answers the other boy flatly, "I was just planning what to order when you buy me lunch."
"You mean when you buy me lunch, blondie," Kuroo amends with a small puff of arrogance, his signature shit-eating grin plastered back onto his face. "Love tastes great in the form of grilled mackerel, don't you think?"
The coach announces a quick 3-on-3 before Kenma can think of a comeback. Kuroo rushes to the court and throws himself back into practice, and the jacket stays behind with Kenma without so much as a hastily muttered admission of thanks.
Kenma decides he'll wait for the game to end before leaving just so Kuroo can at least properly take back his damn clothes. On the bench, Kenma busies himself by reloading his device, skipping through the title card of Monster Hunter: Frontier G to flip through the menu options and press play from where he last left off.
On the court, Kuroo makes his way to the back line and lands a service ace. When Bokuto receives the ball on the next rotation, Kuroo pounces towards the net and jumps up for a block, shirt hem sliding up and exposing an inch of his toned abdomen.
Kenma levels up and quickly moves to defeat the next boss.
(And if he lifts his eyes up from the screen every now and again, well. Then, nobody has to know.)
:: Thursday ::
Kuroo is sitting at the corner of the rooftop when a heavy weight plops onto his lap. Fortunately for him, there are only two other couples loitering on the same floor – Kai with his girlfriend, then two other guys on the left – and they scatter off towards opposite ends of the building like three sets of people each wrapped in their own personal bubbles, dispersed.
"Shut up," Kenma snarls as soon as he opens his mouth, seconds before Kuroo can even say so much as a word, "and stay there."
"I haven't even said anything yet?" Kuroo protests, raising his arms up in mock surrender, "And I'm literally not doing anything."
"Good," Kenma says, curling up against him, his voice quiet and muffled against the fabric of Kuroo's shirt, "just stay like that."
"Are you skipping?" Kuroo asks quietly after a long minute of silence, unsettled by Kenma's directive of completely staying still, resting his hand gently on top of Kenma's head.
"Yes. Are you?"
"No," Kuroo says because the third years have a self-study period right now in preparation for their entrance exams. Kuroo's already been accepted to Waseda with the hefty promise of an undergraduate degree in Chemistry and a collegiate team sports scholarship, so he's mostly just floating through his days with volleyball training and a perfect attendance record until he makes it to graduation. Kuroo shakes his head even though Kenma doesn't see it. "I'm not. And neither should you."
"I'll forfeit one point if you let me skip," Kenma tells him after a thoughtful pause.
"No," Kuroo warns, scolding, "you shouldn't skip class, Kenma,"
Kenma wraps his arms around him, small hands embracing Kuroo's lower torso. "I don't care," Kenma argues weakly, "let me stay here."
"My, my, how forward," Kuroo remarks, teasing, "and here I always thought I was the touchy one–"
"I had a bad day," Kenma tells him faintly, as Kuroo's wandering hands take to carding through the other's blond hair, "so take as many points as you want and cut me some slack."
"Fine," Kuroo gives in and decides to let this one slide, "and I won't, but only because I'm always this kind."
Kenma snorts from beneath him. "Oh, sure you are," Kuroo hears him reply mockingly.
"Yep," Kuroo gloats, determinedly ignoring Kenma's tone dripping thick with sarcasm, "a total saint, really. Too good for this earth. An angel."
"Fallen from the heavens," Kenma agrees idly, deadpan, "like Lucifer."
"Oy!"
Kenma cracks up at that, stifling his laugh as he buries his face into Kuroo's shirt. Kuroo makes a face as he looks down on the boy on top of him in protest, scowling.
"Hey, quit laughing at me! We already agreed to cancel the demerits. I'm not counting any of these points against you, oy! Kenma!"
:: Friday ::
Kuroo walks home with Kenma on Friday afternoon, because Fridays mean rest days mean no-volleyball-training-for-the-Nekoma-team-after-class-hours days. Kuroo had offered to tutor Kenma for his chemistry exam to compensate for allowing him to skip class during yesterday's episode. Kenma, with little to no reluctance, had easily agreed to give Kuroo three full points as a handicap if the tutoring session would result in him getting a passing grade. Four, even, if Kuroo can help him make it to the 80s.
Kenma worries he's being too generous with Kuroo these days.
They head to the station, because the road to Kenma's house is too far a distance for the two of them to traverse by foot. Also, more importantly, because there was just no way Kenma would even bother with the extra effort of just walking with Kuroo through the "scenic" route for the mere sake of some overused trope in a hackneyed teenage high school romance. Call him lazy, sure, but at least he's no idiot.
"The train will arrive shortly," a female voice cuts through the speakers, "all passengers bound for Nagatacho, Iidabashi, Gokokuji, Ikebukuro, and Senkawa, please wait behind the yellow line."
"That's our ride," Kenma announces in his usual bored tone of voice, grabbing Kuroo by the hand to guide him through the crowd. Kuroo trails after him, following Kenma's lead, and the two of them queue up dutifully behind the safety marker of the platform. Kenma moves to lace their hands together; Kuroo lets their fingers intertwine.
"Your hands are kind of sweaty," Kuroo says in the moment, ruining it. Typical.
"If you don't want to hold hands, then let go," Kenma challenges him flatly.
"Nah, I'm good," Kuroo half-shrugs, refusing to back down, and the two of them simply stay that way for the next minute and a half.
They're out of seats by the time they board the train, which isn't all too surprising given that it's currently rush hour for the rest of the Tokyo metro. Kenma scurries through the crowded passenger car, moving further back towards the deep end of the carriage to make way for those departing at the nearest stop.
"Is it always like this?" Kuroo asks as they wade through a sea of people, still not letting go of Kenma's hand.
"Mm?" Kenma nods as he hums lightly in response, whipping out his phone to keep himself distracted, "Oh, yeah, sorry, but Yurakucho just takes fifteen minutes for me to get home so tough it out a bit until we get there, okay?"
"Alright," Kuroo agrees, before sneaking a glance down at Kenma's screen. "Hey, is that my face on your phone?"
"It is," Kenma confirms as a matter-of-factly. "Hideous, isn't it?"
Kuroo ignores him. "Why didn't tell me you had my photo as your wallpaper?" he asks.
"I did tell you," Kenma answers back.
"Liar," Kuroo complains, poking Kenma's shoulder in petty revenge. "Last time I asked, you told me it was a picture of a rooster."
"See? I wasn't lying. I did tell you."
"Rude, kitten," Kuroo scowls. "How are you supposed to steal my heart this way?"
"I wasn't trying to," Kenma mutters under his breath. "I didn't do that for you."
Kuroo perks up at that. "Oho? So you did that for yourself?" Kuroo asks, a lazy grin sneaking its way onto his face. "Tell me, blondie, is that a crush I smell? Or a free lunch?"
"Neither," Kenma shakes his head. "It was for people to stop asking me about my 'boyfriend' whenever they'd catch me using my phone during class."
"Hmm...well, at least you got me at my good angle. Send me one of yours too, would you? I'll change mine so we can match."
"The train is now arriving at Kojimachi. Kojimachi. Please mind your step. The doors will open at the left side."
A handful of passengers alight as the announcement rings through the vehicle. Several more climb on board, the net increase forcing the cramped car to squeeze its riders further in like a pack of human sardines. A portly businessman bumps against Kuroo as the train makes a sharp turn, and suddenly Kenma is met with a faceful of uniform and the suffocating press of his nose against another boy's chest.
"Sorry about that," Kuroo apologizes hastily as he quickly pulls away, though there's not much room for either of them to move. Kenma's stare is unavoidably directed straight towards Kuroo's neck, leaving him helpless as he watches the noticeable bob of his Adam's apple when Kuroo makes an effort to swallow.
"Next station: Ichigaya."
"Ten more minutes," Kuroo reassures him faintly, lifting his arms to press his palms against the train car window in an attempt to maintain his balance, "so just tough it out a bit until we get there, yeah?"
"Yeah," Kenma voices out shakily, and he lets out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. When Kenma inhales again, he catches the scent of Kuroo's cologne – traces of fir and the spice of cardamom. "Okay," he says, "I'll try."
"At least this way, I'm warding off the rest of the crowd for you," Kuroo tells him with a grin. "I know you're not very comfortable with other people getting into your space — even when it comes to people like your strong, handsome, brilliant, and very kind competitor boyfriend — but let me protect you for now, okay?"
Kuroo's tone is genuine; his gaze, soft. Kuroo looks down at Kenma with warm eyes and gentle smiles and Kenma thinks that oh – maybe Kuroo is right. Maybe Kuroo always is this kind.
"...O-One point," Kenma blurts out reluctantly, his voice stifled against the hand he clamps over his mouth. The tips of his ears flush warm with the heat of embarrassment. "That's...you're…" Kenma clears his throat; draws his gaze away, "that was almost thoughtful."
"Oya?" Kuroo blinks, and his small smile twists instantly into a knowing smirk. "Oya, oya?"
"Don't be annoying."
There's a noise as Kuroo slaps his hands against the wall, palms pressed against the surface just a little bit above Kenma's head. Kuroo bends down, shifting slowly to rest his forearm on the window, posture folding as he lowers himself to meet Kenma's stare.
"Hey, Kenma," Kuroo calls the moment Kenma drops his hand, "do you know what we're doing right now? This is what people call a kabedon."
"Yes," Kenma answers tersely, turning his face to look Kuroo in the eye, "I know what it is, Kuroo. I'm not blind."
"Do you know what people do in a kabedon?"
"I'm not stupid either."
"Then–"
Kuroo leans closer, caging Kenma in.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks, breath warm and heady and tickling Kenma's face as he speaks. Kenma throws him another question back.
"Do you want to?"
"Yes."
"Okay," Kenma tells him hoarsely before pausing, "but it'll be my first so it's going to cost you."
"Kozume Kenma," comes Kuroo's disgruntled sigh, "are you seriously telling me that your virgin lips have an entrance fee?"
"Yup," Kenma quickly replies, relishing the look of frustration his opponent shows as Kuroo bites down hard on his lower lip, "three thousand yen, to be precise."
:: Saturday ::
hey
kitten
kit-kat
honeybunch
sugarplum
pummy yummy yumpkin
sweetiepie
kenma
yes?
i have a pick up line for u
do u wanna hear it?
pass.
aw boo :(
what a boyfriend :( :(
cmon :( :( :(
no.
u suck :P
JK
(1/2)
so
J.
HAHAHAHA
no
but that was funny
1 point for u
i like a partner with a good sense of humor
thanks.
ur welcome
anw
yes
back to my pick-up line
no thanks.
nooooo
give me a chance blondie
pls
or else
i'll subtract from ur score
ugh.
ok fine.
let's hear it.
yay great ok buckle up
so
kenma
u'r cute
and i'm pretty
so together we'd be
ah
fuck
no
wait
cute pretty.
i messed it up
would you like to try again?
yes pls
ok.
take 2.
break a leg.
ty
ok
here goes
hey kenma
u'r pretty
and i'm cute
so together we'd be
pretty cute ;)
nailed it.
yuuuuuuusssss
congratulations.
r u proud of me
sure.
do i get a point
no.
WHAT
but darling
D:
i'm going to stream now.
good night kuro.
kk good nyt
don't forget to sleep
so u have energy for our date tmrw
i'm excited for it
can't wait to see u
lose 3
lol
:: Sunday ::
Their first stop is the arcade.
It was, unsurprisingly, a mutual decision. Kenma likes games and Kuroo likes competition, so when the two of them first planned out the schedule for their final match slash date, Taito Station was easily the first choice to come to mind.
It's fun, Kenma thinks, mostly, but in a friendly kind of way more so than it is romantic. They pair up together once for a shooting game, race against one another in Initial D (Kuroo overtakes him by a hairline), and Kuroo even goads Kenma into playing a brief tournament against him in air hockey (Kenma wins 2-1 to redeem himself, all thanks to strategy).
At one point, Kenma sneaks towards the retro machines to play one round of Tekken, while Kuroo heads to the Groove Coaster to find a distraction in the meantime. Kuroo is the type of person who gets carried away fairly easily and Kenma discovers this when he returns twenty minutes later, only to find Kuroo hunched over the control board of the machine, eyes glazed like a madman as his fingers tapped away almost viciously at the buttons, standing in the exact same spot.
They continue on very much unlike a normal couple for the next half hour. Kuroo drags Kenma towards the purikura, Kenma shakes his head with disapproval at the obnoxiously limited choices of cat ears, hot pink glitters, and pretentious floral photo filters. Instead, they agree to play on the taiko drums together next. At the rate this date is going, though, Kenma worries that they're starting to act more like friends than boyfriends, and while that's great and comfortable in itself, there's no way this'll help either of them rack up the final points they need to win this final match slash date for the competition.
Kuroo's noticed this too, probably, or maybe he's some sort of weird telepath who's gained mind-reading abilities over Kenma since that time he came over for a tutoring session the other day, because he's waving Kenma over with a coy smile on his face like it's some sort of invitation right now, and Kenma can only head over slowly in dread of what kind of flirting strategy Kuroo has got planned to pull from under his sleeve.
"Watch this," Kuroo declares with swaggering arrogance, before Kenma can even ask him exactly what it is he's supposed to watch out for. His eyes follow Kuroo's gaze, carefully tracing the older's line of sight towards the mound of plush toys buried inside fingerprint smears and commercial plexiglass.
Ah.
"Kuro–"
"Shh," Kuroo shushes him, dropping a coin into the machine, "I got this, blondie."
Kenma hums with a raise of his brow. Is that so? he wonders. Prove it.
"That cat sure looks cute, huh," Kenma says, eyeing the stuffed kitten that lay close to the machine window edge. A difficult reach, Kenma thinks, based on his calculations – but nothing all too impossible. "You know, that black one with the messy hair. Next to the crow."
"Absolutely adorable," Kuroo agrees.
"If my boyfriend could win that for me," Kenma continues, "I think it would be really nice."
"Really nice?"
"Really really nice," Kenma parrots, pushing down his sadistic streak when he notices Kuroo's slightly darkening pallor. "So nice," Kenma says, delivering his next line to Kuroo in sheer deadpan, "I think I might just even fall in love."
"But don't you think the owl looks nicer?" Kuroo wagers, expression hardening at the prospect of a challenge. "The grey and white one near the chute? Or that tree stump with the tongue sticking out of its face? Or, say, if you really want a cat, how about I win you that bored-looking spotted one instead? I think he looks a lot like you, kitten."
"Well, that's fine too I guess," Kenma shrugs in an attempt to display palpable disinterest, "if you can't–"
"Who said I couldn't?" Kuroo snarls as he moves the joystick towards the side. His attempt fails, but Kuroo quickly inserts another coin into the UFO Catcher in order to try again. "I was just confirming if that was what you really wanted, you know. I can't let down the love of my life after all."
Fifteen minutes later, Kuroo fails seven more times, capping his losses at a grand total of nine.
"Give up, Kuroo," Kenma announces boredly, "we don't have all day. You can stop playing now."
"I play to win, Kenma," Kuroo insists, as the claw retracts to hover over the mound of unclaimed toys. He inserts a coin again. "One more round, okay? I'm definitely getting that kitten! I was really close on that ei–"
Kenma stuffs his phone back into his pocket and nudges Kuroo aside.
"Let me do it. I can't stand watching you anymore," Kenma grumbles, deftly taking over the controls before Kuroo can stop him. He nudges the crane to the left by a fraction, and then backwards by two – no, three – centimeters before snatching up his prize with a single press of a button.
"Too bad you couldn't win my heart after all," Kenma smirks as the black cat drops down into the chute.
"No way, I definitely made it easier for you," Kuroo whines, bending down to pick up the plush from the receptacle "Well, whatever. Anyway. Here's your cat."
"I can't believe you just made me win my own prize," Kenma sighs as Kuroo simply grins and thrusts the stuffed toy into his hands.
::
They're halfway through the movie when Kuroo feels his mind begin to panic.
He hasn't done anything successful yet, and his last attempt at the arcade was a complete bust. There's only two hours left until they reach the finish line and if Kuroo wants to secure the 3000 yen in his wallet for a free lunch and the integrity of his reputation, he needs to step up his game and pull out all the stops. He chose the cinema for A Reason, after all. But Kenma chose the movie, and this genre was doing nothing for the strategy Kuroo initially had had in mind. He needs another approach. A Tactic, if you will.
Kuroo sneaks a quick glance towards his periphery.
"What?" Kenma as he shifts in his seat on Kuroo's right side, expectant. Noticing.
"Nothing," Kuroo answers him airily, redirecting his stare back towards the movie screen. Kenma wrinkles his brow in doubt.
"Do you need to go to the comfort room?"
"No, no. I'm all right."
"Alright."
God that was horrible. What were they? Twelve? He shouldn't let this mood be so awkward. Christ, Kuroo reminds himself, he's been on more dates than he can count with his fingers. This really shouldn't be so hard.
Kuroo takes a peek towards his right side again. This time, Kenma doesn't notice him, attention fixated on analyzing the scene – probably breaking down the protagonist in his mind's eye to understand his motivations, he imagines. It's the perfect time to strike.
Well, Kuroo thinks. Now or never.
Kuroo feigns a yawn and stretches his limbs to reach towards his side, artfully resting his right hand in an effort to wrap his arm around Kenma's shoulders. He is discreet. Smooth. A picture of stealth.
"Your arm is heavy," Kenma says, nose wrinkling with discomfort. The slander.
"That's because it's all muscle, baby," Kuroo declares as he brandishes his so-called guns with a grin. He continues to forage on, a man on a mission, wholly undeterred. "If you don't like it, you can always push me off."
Kuroo tests him by pushing his arm down with a bit more force to add to the resistance. It fails to rile Kenma up, though; he gives up immediately after the first try.
"Guess you're stuck with me then," Kuroo remarks with a smug smirk once Kenma no longer attempts to shove him away.
"I guess I am," Kenma replies with a resigned sigh, slipping down to lean towards his Kuroo's side. Blond hair tickles his cheek as he rests his head on top of Kuroo's shoulder. "Might as well make myself comfortable."
"Okay," Kuroo says, just a little unsurely. His eyes drop to look at Kenma resting against his side. He can smell his shampoo. Kuroo's always had a thing for long hair – this has always been the case with his past partners, the universe knows – but somehow this feels different. Better. Has Kenma's hair always been this soft?
Kenma shifts to look up towards him. "Is my head too heavy?"
"A bit, but that's probably because your brain's too big." Wait, crap? Was that supposed to be a compliment? An insult? How's he supposed to win Kenma over with that?! "Because you're smart! I mean," Kuroo amends quickly. He has to act fast. "Don't you worry your pretty little head, dollface, it's nothing my strong muscular arms can't handle."
"Yeah right," Kenma snorts from beside Kuroo, though the words seem enough to appease him. He stops moving.
On screen, the characters land into an argument. The tension builds with every lash of biting word, drawing blood, while the love interest stands helpless in the background – a damsel in distress, her eyes welling with tears. The second man calls out to her and clinks his glass against the other's and the lead wipes the whole bar table with the noise of shattering glass, one fist raised in enraged retaliation.
You shut up! he screams to him in English. Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Kuroo stops bothering to read the subtitles. He's read the book, he knows how the rest of this scene goes.
Then, the actors fall back into a hush once they settle from the initial shock. The narrator resumes speaking. The moment is gripping. Kenma pulls away from Kuroo, moving forward to read the subtitles, mind intent on making sense of every word.
Kuroo feels his body suppress a shiver. The weight of Kenma's warmth is no longer pressed close against his side. Suddenly, the cinema air feels so much colder around him.
Strange, Kuroo thinks, stopping himself from pulling Kenma back towards his side. That's never held him back before.
Huh.
::
"Honda-san said the science books are this way," Kenma tells Kuroo as he finds him wandering around aimlessly through the shelves. He'd chosen the bookstore as the next location for their date because it's a quiet place where he knows he wouldn't be annoyed with people being too loud or noisy around them unlike the amusement park down on the other end of the street. Also, because Kuroo is a nerd and Kenma remembers him mentioning once before that he'd been meaning to start buying his textbooks early for his new college course before stocks ran out at the end of their school term. So it's a win-win situation for them, Kenma concludes, in all honesty.
"Who's Honda-san?"
"The bookseller."
"Oh," Kuroo says, "thanks for asking the staff for me. Where did he say it was again?"
"At the end of the next shelf," Kenma replies with a pointed finger, directing that the two of them should head towards the left. "Let's go...?"
"You go on ahead. I'll follow," Kuroo answers, distracted, eyes skimming over a book before he flips to the next page. Kenma sneaks a peek at the title. A Tale for the Time Being, it reads.
"Found something interesting?" he asks.
"Yeah."
"Are you going to buy it?"
"Maybe next time," Kuroo shakes his head. "Money doesn't grow on trees and all that," he says, closing the novel in his hands and returning it back onto the shelf, "you know how the saying goes. I'll save up for it though, probably."
With that, Kuroo saunters over to the science books' section and searches once again for his textbook. He mumbles titles to himself like reminders on a quest. Kenma looks back and spares a meaningful glance towards the abandoned aisle before quickly following suit.
Kenma is sitting outside the bookstore approximately thirty minutes later, playing a game on his phone while Kuroo busies himself sorting through varying editions of Chemistry by the same author for the past half hour. Kuroo meets him there not long after.
"Here," Kenma says as he hands Kuroo the plastic bag, "a prize." Kuroo doesn't have to open it to know what's inside. "For you," Kenma says. "It wouldn't be fair if I was the only one taking something home today, since I already won my own."
"Oh, thanks, Kenma, really, but I cou–"
"Looking forward to your treat during lunch later," Kenma says smugly, promptly cutting Kuroo off, "loser."
"One point for you then," Kuroo answers, grinning back in reply.
::
"Are you ready?"
"Yes. And you?"
"Ready as I'll ever be."
The two of them step forward to take their spot in the line, waiting patiently as the cashier rings up their orders. Their bill comes down to 6000 flat – exactly as they had calculated.
"That will be six thousand yen," the lady manning the register announces, albeit redundantly, and flashes them a polite smile.
Kuroo leans on the counter while Kenma slips his hands into his pockets, neither one of them daring to make a move. A minute passes as they stare down the screen in silence.
Kuroo forces out a cough, and turns to face Kenma. "...Well?"
"Well what?" Kenma asks, looks up to stare back at him.
"Well," Kuroo frowns, "pay up, kitten."
Kenma shakes his head. "What? No. You're the one who should pay–"
"Nu-uh, blondie!" Kuroo huffs, waggling his pointer finger in the air. "I definitely made you swoon. You're terrible at hiding it. You pay."
"You're kidding me," Kenma grumbles under his breath. He crosses his arms. "Just admit that you've lost, Kuro."
"No!"
"Fine," Kenma rolls his eyes, "then just admit that I've won."
"That's the same thing!"
"Let's be honest."
"Honest?" Kuroo scoffs. "You want me to be honest?" Kuroo points his finger accusingly towards Kenma. "How about you be honest instead? Don't think I didn't notice the way you were blushing when I fed you your pie earlier!"
"Of course I was blushing," Kenma throws his hands up angrily into the air. "How could I not when you were doing...whatever it was that you were doing," Kenma hisses. "You looked ridiculous trying to shove your fork, all of a sudden, into my mouth, without warning."
"Hey! That was a good move," Kuroo counters, petulant. "Much better than the time you leaned across the table to wipe the sauce off my cheek with your thumb!"
"Much better?" Kenma scoffs, "You were acting like a child who lacked table manners the whole time."
"Says the one who licked his fingers with the sauce he wiped off of my face," Kuroo quips in retaliation, "Yours was a rookie move, Kozume. Completely juvenile."
Kenma narrows his eyes. "I'm not taking this from someone whose knowledge on romance revolves completely around banal clichés."
"Oh! So you think I'm some sort of living romantic cliché?!" Kuroo scowls before mirroring Kenma's irked expression. "Is that it?"
"Yes!" Kenma nearly hollers, slapping his hand against the table as his cheeks heat up with rage. The countertop rattles with the force of his feelings. "That's exactly what I think," he says.
"Oh yeah? Then do you want to know what I think, blondie?!" Kuroo yells, before he promptly slams his payment down onto the tray.
"Your payment has been received," the cashier's voice cuts in smoothly. "Thank you, sirs."
Kenma's eyes widen as he stares at Kuroo in surprise. Kuroo follows his gaze and promptly looks down.
Twelve thousand yen.
"Would you like to split the change?"
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