Archive of Our Own

“So, anyway, I asked Sawamura to be my fake boyfriend for the month and he actually said okay. Can you believe it?” Kuroo chirped.

“What?” Kenma asked.

“Were you seriously not paying attention to anything I just said? About all the events and social crap and yadda yadda?” Kuroo rolled his eyes.

“You should know better than to talk to me while I’m playing a game,” Kenma pouted.

Kuroo stared at him incredulously. “If I didn’t talk to you while you’re gaming, I’d never get to talk to you at all. Or talk at you, apparently.” He sighed. “So yeah. I needed a boyfriend. Well, a fake boyfriend. Sawamura said he’d do it. I’m still kinda blown away by that but if he turned me down I don’t know who else I would’ve asked.”

Kenma blinked at him for a moment, using every fiber of his being to resist throwing the controller at his stupid rooster head. But that really wouldn’t be fair to the controller.

“Why not—” me? “—Bokuto?” Kenma asked finally. “It’s not like you and Sawamura are close.”

Kuroo snorted. “Well, for one, I needed someone who isn’t in my usual circles. Preferably someone no one at these events would know. Easier to fake the fake that way. And Bo...first of all can’t lie to save his life. And there’s no way he’d do it and ‘cheat’—” he made exaggerated air quotes, “—on Akaashi-kun. Though, I’m not so sure that Akaashi-kun even knows they’re dating, y’know? Or knows that Bokuto thinks they’re dating. Whatever.”

“Whatever,” Kenma repeated in half-agreement. 

“I’m actually pretty sure he doesn’t,” Kuroo continued, settling in behind Kenma on the floor and draping himself over his back, resting his chin on Kenma’s shoulder. “I’ve thought about telling him but I don’t really know how.”

“Quit meddling,” Kenma said, cringing when Kuroo squawked indignantly (and loudly) in his ear. “So did you ask anyone else or was Sawamura the first person you thought of?”

“I was just agonizing over who would be good when he kinda fell in my lap,” Kuroo said. “Figuratively speaking.” He smiled and snugged his arms where they rested around Kenma’s waist. “My literal lap isn’t big enough for the both of you.”

So why didn’t you ask the guy sitting in your lap? Kenma opened his mouth to ask. But he closed it without saying anything, afraid of the answer.

Why didn’t you ask me?

First Date

“Damn, Sawamura.” Kuroo squeezed Daichi’s biceps with a leer. “I picked a good one.”

“How is this even convincing?” Daichi grumbled, regret evident in his voice. “Do we even look the part? Shouldn’t you have picked someone...prettier...?”

“Oho? Like Sugawara, maybe?”

“No,” Daichi said immediately. Firmly. “Touch him and I’ll kill you.”

“Now now, Sawamura, should a policeman really be threatening murder?”

“You’re right,” Daichi reluctantly agreed. “Touch him and I’ll break your hand.”

“That...isn’t really much better…whatever.” Kuroo shook his head, giving up. “What, you don’t think you’re pretty? Worried that we both exude too much top energy?”

“What?” Daichi asked, scandalized. 

Kuroo remained unfazed. Daichi’s adorable reaction actually just egged him on. “Don’t worry, babe. I’m happy to switch for you.” He winked for good measure. 

“Ohmygod just stop,” Daichi pleaded, face tomato-red.

After a lot of mingling and immediately-forgotten introductions with people Daichi would never meet again, he sighed, trying not to actually slump against the wall in exhaustion.

“Darling.” Kuroo handing him a champagne flute, wearing the same shitty smirk he had all night. Daichi was starting to wonder if maybe Kuroo’s face was just stuck like that. If he smirked in his sleep.

Not that he had any desire to see that firsthand.

“Is this even working?” Daichi asked with a frown.

“Splendidly!” Kuroo grinned, clinking his glass with Daichi’s before taking a sip. “You’re a lifesaver, babe. You don’t even know.” He held out a small plate with a variety of hors d’oeuvres. “Canapé?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“You sure? This company always books great food,” Kuroo gave the plate in his hand a little wiggle.

Daichi frowned in distaste. He really didn’t want to eat off Kuroo’s plate...but he was starving. He picked one and threw it in his mouth. Man, it was really good.

“Good, huh?” Kuroo asked with a smile, taking a bite of his own. “Ooh! Kenma would love this!” He peered at the half-bite left in his hand, trying to dissect the filling inside the tiny envelope of pastry. “I need to figure out how to make it.”

“You cook?” Daichi asked, surprised. 

“Mm,” Kuroo said with a nod, thoughtfully chewing the rest of the hors d’oeuvre. “I have to. Otherwise Kenma would live on apple pie and cup noodles.” Kuroo frowned. “And even the cup noodles might be a stretch.”

Daichi chuckled at that. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask...um, why didn’t you do this with Kenma? I mean, isn’t that how this is supposed to go? Isn’t the point to fake date someone you actually like?”

For once, Kuroo’s smile felt genuine to Daichi. But also really...sad. “Kenma...” he said quietly, “couldn’t do this. This—” he waved his hand and Daichi assumed he meant the loud, glitzy party atmosphere. “—is everything he hates. Hell, even if he was my real boyfriend, it wouldn’t be fair to ask him to come. No matter how much I’d want to show him off.” Kuroo sighed deeply before Daichi could ask the next question. “And no, he couldn’t fake this, it’s not in him to act like that. Romance, PDA...that’s not his style at all. Like, he’ll let me cuddle on him and all that but he has no interest in like...mushy stuff. He’ll be all sweet and snuggly—well, sometimes—but it’s not like he’s ever tried to do anything...more.”

Daichi blinked incredulously. “Have you ever tried to do anything more?”

Kuroo looked completely baffled. “No..?”

“You.” Daichi just stared at him flatly for a moment. “Are an idiot.”

Kuroo laughed awkwardly. “I do hear that a lot, unfortunately. Can’t say I agree though.” He flashed a fake smile at a woman clearly checking him out as she walked by. “And don’t call your brilliant boyfriend an idiot.”

Kenma hadn’t planned on saying anything. No matter how frustrated or lonely or...whatever. He wasn’t so weak that he couldn’t hang out by himself while Kuro was on his stupid fake-date with Shoyo’s handsome former captain. But then Shoyo himself had called seemingly out of the blue and Kenma had actually answered, secretly grateful for the distraction. Even Shoyo, who could usually carry the entire conversation by himself, noticed something was off and asked Kenma what was wrong.

“Nothing,” Kenma said.

Shoyo hummed, obviously not believing him. And rightfully so. “So what’s Kuroo-san up to lately?”

Shoyo was a dear friend—one of Kenma’s only friends, really—but Kenma doubted he could keep a secret. Especially one as stupid as this. And Kenma didn’t want to lie, but it also wasn’t his secret to share. So he told Shoyo what Kuroo seemed to want everyone to think he was up to.

“Daichi-senpai and Kuroo-san, huh?” Shoyo whistled. “Wow. I’m surprised.” 

“Why? Didn’t think he’d date a guy?” Kenma asked, hoping Shoyo didn’t pick up on the hint of bitterness in his tone.

Shoyo laughed. “No. I thought he was in love with Suga-senpai.” His next words were hesitant and painfully gentle. “But, Kenma...are you okay?”

“Coffee?” Suga chirped the next morning as Daichi came into the room.

“Please,” Daichi groaned, slumping as he sat on the floor. “Sugaaa,” he whined, head on the table. “Why did I say I’d do this?”

Suga snorted, setting Daichi’s mug far enough away from his head that he wouldn't knock it over accidentally. “I don’t know. Why did you?” Daichi lifted his head to find Suga staring back at him, chin in his hand. “Is it that bad?”

“It’s exhausting,” Daichi said, taking a careful sip of his coffee. “I don’t get how he lives like this.”

“So what do you actually have to do?” 

“Honestly? Be arm candy,” Daichi said flatly and Suga actually giggled. “Seriously! I feel like a trophy wife. I swear, every few feet he’s introducing me to someone new, they smile all fake, I smile all fake, and then we move onto the next person whose name I’m going to forget in two seconds.” Daichi blew out a sigh. “He said I’m doing a good job and I’m really helping but I don’t really know that he needs me there. Then again,” he frowned thoughtfully, “he knows a lot of people. A lot of people who look really disappointed when he introduces me.”

“Um, Daichi? Do you...do you think Kuroo likes likes you?” Suga asked, chewing his bottom lip.

“Huh?” Daichi asked, needing a moment to fully process. “What? No. That’s ridiculous. Why would you even ask that?”

“Because, Daichi! That’s how these things go! Haven’t you seen this trope a million times? You ask the person you like to fake-date you and then magic stuff happens and then you end up dating for real! He has to know that!”

Daichi laughed. “You saying Kuroo reads romance novels or watches romcoms?”

“Daichi, I’m being serious. And yes, of course he does, or else he wouldn’t have thought up this stupid plan in the first place.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better,” Daichi didn’t stop to wonder why it would make Suga feel better, “I know for a fact that Kuroo does not ‘like’ like me.”

“Are you sure?” Suga pressed. “How do you know?”

Daichi snorted. “Because I swear every other thing out of his mouth is ‘Kenma this’ or ‘Kenma that.’ It’s a good thing I didn’t have some secret crush when I agreed to this or I would be heartbroken.”

Suga smothered a giggle. “Me too.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” Suga said with a mischievous half-smile, which dropped as he asked, “So why didn’t he ask Kenma?”

Daichi sighed. “That’s what I asked.” He quickly explained Kuroo’s answer. However boggling.

“Wait. They snuggle?” Suga asked incredulously.

“Right? All the time, from the sound of it. And yet Kuroo somehow thinks Kenma isn’t into him? Kinda feel sorry for the guy, having a thing for someone so painfully oblivious.”

Suga blinked, momentarily startled. “Me too,” Suga said a second later, a hint of fondness and also something absolutely unreadable in his expression.

Second Date

“Hey, Kenma, which outfit looks better for my fake date tomorrow?” Kuroo asked, holding up two hangers. “If you were my honey, which would you like better?”

“Neither,” Kenma said coldly, not bothering to look up from his phone. “Ask your honey.”

“Dude, why are you mad?”

“I’m not mad.”

“Kenma. I know you better than you know you.” The incredulous look Kenma shot him was rare and priceless. And so fucking cute. But now was not the time. “You’re mad.”

“I just think what you’re doing is really mean,” Kenma grumble-pouted.

“Mean? How?” Kuroo asked, genuinely confused. He tossed both outfits over the back of a chair. “To Sawamura? He could’ve said no.”

“No, he couldn’t, Kuro,” Kenma snapped. “Unlike someone else I could name, he’s a genuinely nice person. He really couldn’t say no.”

“Okay, I know you’re not implying that I am not a genuinely nice person,” Kuroo said defensively, one hand pressed to his chest. “And since when do you know so much about the guy?”

For a moment Kuroo didn’t think Kenma was going to answer. Then finally he muttered, “I asked Shoyo.”

“Huh? Why?” Kuroo whined. “You didn’t blow my cover did you?”

Kenma’s brows pinched in a momentary glare. “That’s really what you’re worried about?” 

“I’m actually worried about a lot of things!” Kuroo said dramatically. “You acting really weird being one of them!”

“I know I am and I hate it!” Kenma blurted. He froze for a moment, wide-eyed, before escaping to his room, shutting the door firmly behind him.

“C’mon, Kenma, I’m sorry,” Kuroo wheedled from the other side of the door.

“For what,” Kenma mumbled.

“I—” Kuroo had to think about it. “I...don’t...know? For making you upset?”

“You don’t even know why I’m upset do you.”

“You won’t tell me!” Kuroo said defensively. 

“You’re a jerk,” Kenma said through the door.

“Are you really that worried about Sawamura? Do you really think it’s that mean?” Kuroo didn’t know why Kenma would be so bothered; it’s not like he knew Sawamura any better than Kuroo did. Unless— “Kenma,” Kuroo said seriously, a shiver running down his spine. “Do you...like Sawamura?”

“Do I what?” Kenma said, jerking the door open and sending Kuroo tumbling in.

“Well, why else are you so mad on his behalf?” Kuroo swallowed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. This really shouldn’t bother him. It shouldn’t. Just because he never thought Kenma would like anybody didn’t mean he...couldn’t. “Is that it?”

Kenma stared at him, eyes narrowing the longer he stared. “Are you stupid?”

“Is that a no?”

“I don’t even know the guy except from what little I remember about playing volleyball against him and what Shoyo’s told me.”

“Oh,” Kuroo sighed in relief. “So then why are you so angry with me? What can I do to fix it?”

Kenma stared at the floor. “Nothing. Now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kuroo pressed.

“Exactly what I said!” Kenma said with an irritated frown. “I just...I don’t know why you asked him to fake-date you but you did and that’s that.”

Kuroo licked his bottom lip nervously. “Did you...should I...um, are you mad that I didn’t ask...you? To fake date me?” Kuroo finished, half-cringing.

For the longest time Kenma just stared back at him, intense and unreadable. “No,” he said finally. Quietly. “No, I do not want to fake date you.” Something about the way he emphasized “fake” niggled at Kuroo’s brain but he didn’t have time to really think about it or even ask before Kenma physically pushed him out the door. “Get out of here. I have work.”

Kuroo heaved a huge sigh. “Kenma’s being really weird.”

“I can’t believe you’re talking about another man when you’re out with your boyfriend,” Daichi replied dryly, sipping his wine. He wasn’t really a wine guy but he had to admit it was pretty good. Definitely something Suga might like; he’d have to remember the name.

“Sawamura.”

“Right. Kenma’s being really weird. How so?”

“I can’t even...I don’t know! He’s just all moody and mad and won’t tell me why.”

“You don’t say,” Daichi said flatly.

“What does that tone mean?” Kuroo asked, eyes narrowed. “Do you know something? Did Chibi tell you?”

“Chi—? Hinata? No, why?” Daichi groaned in realization. “Oh shit, Hinata knows about this? Ugh, I guess I should’ve thought of that. Your circles do kind of overlap...”

Kuroo took a too-big-to-be-socially-acceptable sip of his own wine and shook his head. “Kenma told him.”

“What?” Daichi asked in surprise. “Why?”

“I...don’t know,” Kuroo admitted. “We didn’t get that far in the discussion.” He wrinkled his nose at the memory. “However, the consensus is apparently that you are a ‘genuinely nice person.’”

Daichi laughed. “That’s nice. I think.” He asked hesitantly, “Uh, Kenma does know this isn’t real, right?”

“Well, yeah. I needed him to be in on it and I can’t keep secrets from him anyway. So it’s just me, you, and him that know.”

“Um...”

“Sawamura?” Kuroo asked ominously.

“I kinda told Suga.” Daichi cringed.

“What do you mean, you kinda told him?!” Kuroo hissed.

“He’s my best friend and roommate, I can’t not tell him! He’d figure it out in two seconds anyway. “ He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I still can’t believe I agreed to this. I’m a horrible liar.”

Kuroo’s eyes narrowed. “Sawamura. Do you have a crush on Sugawara?”

“What?” Daichi asked, eyed widened in panic and cheeks immediately bright red. “No.”

Kuroo burst out laughing. “You’re right. You are a horrible liar.”

“Shut up,” Daichi grumbled.

“Dude, if you had something going on, why didn’t you tell me?” Kuroo lamented, feeling a bit lousy and wondering if this had anything to do with why Kenma told him he was being mean. “I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known you were taken. Now I feel like a bad guy or something.”

“You are a bad guy,” Daichi retorted. “But…I don’t…I’m not taken. We’re not like that.”

“Why not?” Kuroo pressed, taking a sip. 

“Are you serious?” Daichi asked as if the answer was obvious. “Suga’s too good for me.”

“Aw, babe,” Kuroo said, hugging an arm around Daichi’s neck and kissing his temple. A couple of ladies passing by giggled. Kuroo winked at them.

“Do not. Ever. Do that again,” Daichi threatened once the ladies were out of earshot.

Kuroo just laughed. “Why? Made your heart skip a beat?” He waggled his eyebrows.

“More like made me almost punch you in the ribs on reflex.”

“Ow, that would’ve hurt,” Kuroo laughed again. 

“That’s the idea,” Daichi said, swigging down the last of his wine.

“No freakin’ way!” a voice exclaimed from behind them. Kuroo’s arm stiffened around Daichi’s neck. “I’d recognize that stupid hair anywhere!”

Arm still around Daichi, Kuroo schooled his expression from momentary panic into smug nonchalance right before turning them both to face the speaker. 

“Yaku!”

Kenma’s phone buzzed on the couch next to him and he glanced at the screen.

Yaku?

He didn’t answer, and it buzzed again. Expecting a voicemail, he looked over. It wasn’t a voicemail at all but a picture. Yaku had obviously taken it without them noticing: Kuroo (not wearing either of the suits he’d asked Kenma’s opinion on, Kenma noticed) standing with his arm casually draped around Sawamura’s shoulders, both of them looking and laughing at something out of frame. 

Kenma’s hand tightened around his phone. Kuroo looked unfairly hot—he always did, really, in Kenma’s opinion. As much as he hated to admit it. But Sawamura...

Sawamura looked really good too. He was handsomer than Kenma remembered. Not that he usually paid attention to other people in that way. Kuroo was by far the exception, and for a long time Kenma assumed it was simply because they’d spent so much time together. But even if it wasn’t something he typically evaluated in other people, it was hard not to with this picture right here, shoving it in his face—

Clenching his jaw, Kenma swallowed down sudden bile. He hated himself for reacting this way—it was stupid. It was fake, he knew that, he knew that! and yet...

They looked really good together.

The phone in his hand vibrated with an incoming call, startling him. With a resigned sigh, he answered.

“Hello?” 

“Kenma! You would not believe who I just ran into.”

“Oh I have a pretty good idea,” Kenma said in monotone.

Yaku barked a laugh. “He’s not really dating Sawamura, is he?” he asked bluntly. After a beat of silence, he continued. “Let me rephrase that. Why is he pretending to date Sawamura?”

“I don’t know,” Kenma sighed and Yaku snorted. “Something about a bunch of events and parties this month with work people and industry people and everyone’s always asking him out or trying to set him up with their daughters or something. I...I wasn’t really paying attention at first. I don’t really know the whole story because once he told me his plan...well it was just so stupid I tuned him out. I knew the longer I listened...the madder I’d get.”

“Yeah, he’s an idiot,” Yaku sighed with feeling.  “But you of all people should already know that, I guess. Still, I don’t get why he didn’t fake-date you. Or real-date you for that matter.”

Kenma didn’t answer. What was he supposed to say? ‘No, this thing is entirely one-sided, he has no reason to choose me?’ ‘I’ve been waiting for years for him to say he wants me’? ‘Ever since he brought up this stupid plan it’s been killing me inside’? 

“Kenma?” Yaku prompted. “Still there?”

“I’m here,” Kenma said quietly. 

“Anyway, you know how he is. There were probably a million solutions but he had to go pick the most bizarrely complicated, convoluted one. He gets fixated and there’s no getting through to him.” Yaku paused, making a frustrated little sound.  “I’d never tell him this to his face but he’s one of the smartest people I know.” Yaku snorted. “But he sure does some stupid shit.”

Kenma snickered involuntary at that. “Yeah.”

“Hang in there.” Yaku said, ever the senpai. Then with a lighter tone he added, “Or, yknow, kick him to the curb. Whatever makes you happy.”

“You would not believe who I ran into last night,” Kuroo said the next morning as he made breakfast.

Suffering from a severe case of deja vu, Kenma resisted the urge to say, Oh, I have a pretty good idea. 

“Yaku!” Kuroo said, not waiting for Kenma’s answer. “He looks great.”

“You’re dragging Sawamura to these parties and you don’t even know who’s gonna be there?”

“Well, I have some idea,” Kuroo said defensively, setting pancakes in front of Kenma, a not-so-subtle attempt at getting back in his good graces. “That’s why I needed Sawamura, after all. But I still didn’t expect Yaku.”

“Was he surprised to see Sawamura with you?” Kenma mumbled.

“Actually, no,” Kuroo said, sounding legitimately surprised. He sat and started buttering his own pancakes. “He said we looked really good together.”

Kenma half-choked on pancake. 

“Kenma? You okay?” Kuroo asked, concerned, pushing some orange juice toward him.

“I bet you do look good together,” Kenma said after regaining his composure. 

“Well, in fairness,” Kuroo said seriously, “I’d look good with anyone.” He flashed a smile. 

Kenma kicked his shin under the table.

Third Date

“Well? How do I look, on a scale of roguishly handsome to unbearably hot?” Kuroo asked.

Kenma’s eyes flickered over for just a second. “Just unbearable.”

“Kenma!” Kuroo laughed, squeezing Kenma from behind in a bear hug, trapping his arms at his sides. He grinned, his chin on Kenma’s shoulder. “You’re so mean.”

“You deserve it,” Kenma said flatly. “Let me go. You’re going to wrinkle your stupid clothes.”

“My clothes are not stupid,” Kuroo protested haughtily, straightening. His arms slid away but Kenma caught one forearm, startling him.

“How many more?” Kenma asked so quietly that Kuroo could barely hear. His grip tightened around Kuroo’s wrist, but he didn’t look up. “How many more dates?”

“Two more after tonight,” Kuroo answered, utterly confused by Kenma’s behavior. “Next week is a double whammy. Friday night business dinner thing and then Saturday is a wedding.” Kenma’s eyes shot up and he looked panicked; Kuroo still didn’t know why. Instinctively, he reached up and tucked stray hair behind Kenma’s ear, letting his fingertips drag a little. He smiled weakly. “After that I’m all yours.”

Kuroo expected some dry retort, some sarcastic comeback. 

He didn’t expect Kenma to look away with shiny eyes and bottom lip between his teeth. “Okay,” he breathed shakily, turning away.

“Kenma?” Kuroo reached for him but Kenma was already too far. Not knowing what else to do, he let his hand fall to his side. “Um, I’m heading out now. O-okay?”

“Yeah,” Kenma said with a small nod, still not looking at him. 

Daichi didn’t know if it was because this was the “fanciest” date yet and so he was just feeling smothered by the clothes and atmosphere or if it was...something else. But he’d expected this whole fake-dating thing to get easier the longer it went, not the opposite way around. He glanced over at Kuroo and didn’t think he looked particularly good either. Oh, other people probably wouldn’t notice, but since Daichi had spent more time in close proximity to the man than he’d ever imagined or particularly wanted, he’d started to notice certain tells and differences.

Like how his voice already sounded tired at the beginning of the evening when he handed Daichi a whiskey and toasted with his own, “Drink up, darling, you’re gonna need it.” He knocked back half his glass in one go. “Tonight’ll be a long one.” 

It wasn’t long before Daichi found out what Kuroo meant.

“Kuroo-kun, you heartbreaker you!” a handsome, grey-haired gentleman boomed. 

“Now, now, I wouldn’t go that far, Matsudaira-san!” Kuroo said easily.

“Nonsense! At least half my department has had an eye on you since last year,” the man laughed. “I know more than one person who’ll be devastated that you’re taken.”

“So this is the boyfriend you’ve talked so much about!” a graceful older woman said with a predatory smile. “You weren’t lying—he is a looker, isn’t he?” 

“Hey now!” Kuroo joked, squeezing an arm around Daichi. “I know he’s cute, but hands off!”

“Aww, but I’m shopping for my next husband,” the woman feigned a pout. She and Kuroo laughed too-loudly at that, neither one at all sincere.

“You look absolutely delicious as usual, Kuroo-kun,” an attractive man Daichi guessed to be around their own age (if not their own social standing—Daichi could practically feel the aura of wealth around him) purred. 

“You’re so funny, Shindo-san,” Kuroo laughed, his hand moving from its usual spot on the small of Daichi’s back to snug around his hip. “Have you met my boyfriend, Sawamura Daichi?” Kuroo asked, knowing damn well that no, they had never met. 

After an openly appraising look, the man—Shindo’s—irritation at being surprised by Kuroo’s “boyfriend” transformed into a wicked smirk. “Sawamura Daichi,” he said, half to himself, the tone causing Daichi’s skin to crawl. “Why, I could just eat you both up.”

“Waaa, Kuroo-san!” A couple of semi-drunk young ladies playfully (?) wailed, one of them tugging on Kuroo’s arm. “Why’d you have to go rub it in our face, huh?”

“It’s not like that!” Kuroo laughed, not sounding exactly sober himself. “Though can you blame me for wanting to show him off? Isn’t he the cutest?” With a grin, Kuroo placed a quick kiss on Daichi’s temple. 

“Of course you’re the touchy feely boyfriend, Kuroo-san!”

“Still, I never thought this would be your type,” the other girl said. “He seems too serious and respectable for a playboy like you!”

“Are you going to be okay getting home?” Daichi asked as they were parting ways.

“Fine.” Kuroo waved dismissively. “I’m nowhere near as drunk as I pretended to be.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Unfortunately.”

Daichi snorted. “That...well. You were right about it being a long evening.”

Kuroo gave him a weak smile. “See why I needed you?” The smile fell away and he swallowed. “I do...Like, I really appreciate...thanks, Sawamura. For doing this.”

Daichi chuckled. “Don’t go getting sappy on me now,” he warned, and Kuroo snickered. “Go home and get some sleep. You look dead on your feet.”

Kuroo brayed a laugh at that, sounding like himself for the first time the whole evening. “Thanks, dad. Oh, and thanks for not punching me in the ribs when I kissed you.”

“Next time I will,” Daichi promised.

“We’ll see,” Kuroo said with an intentionally smarmy wink. “See ya next week, babe!” he called over his shoulder as he walked away.

When he stepped through his front door, Daichi sighed in relief at finally being home.

“That bad, huh?” Suga asked from the couch.

“Suga?” Daichi said, surprised. “It’s late. What are you still doing up?”

“Waiting for you,” Suga replied, as if it should be obvious. “I’d started to wonder if you were staying out all night. Or if he’d finally seduced you.” 

“Don’t even joke about that,” Daichi admonished, ruffling his hair. Though Suga’s voice had sounded a little off. Then again, it was the early hours of the morning—he was probably just tired.

Suga stood, exaggeratedly smelling the air. His nose twitched cutely as he sniffed, though Daichi was pretty sure it was more for theatrics than anything. After a last tentative sniff a few inches from Daichi’s neck, he pulled back sharply, crinkling his nose. “You need to shower. Now.”

“Huh?” Daichi asked, sniffing his own shirt. “Why?” Slightly panicked, he asked, “Do I stink?”

“You smell like Kuroo.”

“Is that...bad?” Daichi asked, confused. “I imagine he wears some pretty pricey cologne—”

“Yes it’s bad!” Suga interrupted. “I don’t want his stupid pricey cologne though I’m sure it’s nice stinking up our apartment.”

“But we’re moving back home in like a month anyway—” 

“I want you to smell like you,” Suga blurted petulantly.

“Okay, okay,” Daichi tried not to smile too big; Suga was being way too cute. Much more of that and he’d need to get in the shower for other reasons. 

Scrubbing down, Daichi realized he didn’t actually know how to smell like himself. What that even smelled like. Or if Suga would even still be awake when he got out of the shower. But he’d gotten used to Suga’s occasional odd demands over the years and actually found them kind of endearing. Well, pretty much anything Suga did was endearing, if he really thought about it.

Freshly showered, hopefully to Suga’s standards, Daichi returned to their small living room wearing loose basketball shorts and no shirt. No point in getting dressed when he was just going to bed in a few minutes. “Well?” he teased. “Have I earned your stamp of approval?” 

Before Daichi could register what was happening, Suga stood and buried his nose in Daichi’s neck, inhaling deeply. “Much better,” he sighed happily. 

“Uh, Suga…” Daichi croaked, voice strained and embarrassed at the goosebumps pebbling his skin. 

Apparently Daichi was the only one feeling the least bit awkward because Suga just kept his face nuzzled against Daichi’s neck. Man, he must really be sleepy to be this out of it. Suga’s fingers ghosted over Daichi’s ticklish sides, first eliciting a huffed laugh and then something far more indecent. 

Grabbing Suga’s wrists, Daichi protested, “Dude, don’t—” 

“How did you get so smelly anyway?” Suga asked.

Daichi snorted. He couldn’t wait to tell Kuroo that Suga thought he was “smelly.” “Well, we stand next to each other all night. And half the time he has an arm around me or whatever.”

“What.” 

It wasn’t a question, the word frigid in contrast to how warm Suga’s breath felt against Daichi’s skin. “Well,” Daichi said, licking his lips nervously. Why was he nervous? “We have to look like we’re dating. Enough to be believable, to discourage people. That’s...” 

Suga’s head snapped up, the intensity of his stare derailing Daichi’s train of thought and causing his grip on Suga’s wrists to loosen.

“That’s the whole point,” Daichi finished weakly and belatedly.

“That’s the whole point,” Suga repeated a bit numbly, but Daichi could see the wheels turning. And the moment they clicked. “So has he kissed you?” Suga asked, eyes sharp.

“What?” Daichi asked, feeling the heat flood his face and knowing resistance was futile. He expected Suga to tease him, or laugh till he cried. Maybe both.

Instead, he stared back at him, eyes wide. “Where?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

“J-just—” Daichi cleared his throat. Why was Suga being so weird about this? At first he’d thought it was super cute that Suga waited up for him but now he was wishing they had both just gone to bed. He raised his hand to that spot on his temple near his hairline that Kuroo always seemed to pick. “Here.”

Suga pulled around Daichi’s neck the same time he stood on his toes, brushing a kiss in the spot Daichi had pointed to just seconds before. He left his hand curled around Daichi’s neck as he settled back on his heels and asked, “Where else?”

Daichi just blinked back at him, stunned. “Sug...a?”

“Where else?” Suga asked, stepping in a little closer. His eyes flickered to Daichi’s mouth.

“Nowhere,” Daichi managed to choke out. “Just there. Suga, are you...okay?”

“Not here?” Suga asked, grazing his thumb across Daichi’s cheek before leaning in and kissing there.

It was so sweet and innocent and yet sexy because it was Suga and Daichi felt like such a loser that his eyelids had fluttered shut from a kiss on the cheek and he still didn’t really know what the hell was happening but—

“No,” he replied simply. 

With the other hand, Suga trailed his fingers around the shell of Daichi’s ear. “Here?” He didn’t wait for an answer, teeth lightly grazing Daichi’s earlobe.

“No,” Daichi groaned a little.

Going back to the other side of Daichi’s face, Suga caressed his jaw with his thumb. “Here?” Soft kisses peppered from the corner of Daichi’s jawbone to his chin.

It took a second for Daichi’s mind to catch up. “No.”

Suga moved back to the other side, running long fingers down the column of Daichi’s neck, beginning from behind his ear, slowly down, then flowing along his shoulder. “Here?” Suga asked, starting with a soft brush of lips and working his way down, following the path of his fingers. Halfway down his neck, Daichi felt the wet heat of Suga’s tongue against his skin. 

He no longer had the presence of mind to even wonder what the hell was happening or care that his eyes had closed again. Maybe Suga had lost his mind. Maybe he was dreaming. Whatever it was, it felt incredible and he had no words for the moment, so he just shook his head slightly.

“Hmm?” Suga hummed against his skin.

“No,” Daichi said, opening his eyes, voice gravelly as Suga finished the last kiss on his shoulder and pulled back to look at him.

“How about—” Once again, Suga’s eyes flickered very obviously to Daichi’s mouth. He leaned in, stopping with his lips a hair’s breadth from Daichi’s. “Here?”

With a needy growl he honestly didn’t even know he could make, Daichi answered by closing the distance, kissing him eagerly. “No,” he eventually remembered to say, breathing the words from his mouth into Suga’s, fitting them around their tongues. “Just you.” 

“Promise?” Suga panted, kissing the corner of Daichi’s mouth.

“Always,” Daichi replied immediately, trying with mixed success to talk and kiss at the same time, though Suga honestly didn't seem to mind. “It’s always been you.”

“Honey, I’m home!” Kuroo called, kicking off his shoes. Kenma didn’t answer but he’d seen the flickering light from the tv through the window so he knew Kenma was still up.

Well, theoretically Kenma could’ve fallen asleep with the tv on, Kuroo supposed, but Kenma had always been a night owl.

“Kenmaaa,” he whined when he spotted Kenma’s head above the back of the couch. He draped himself across the back and across as much of Kenma as possible, careful not to hit the controller in Kenma’s hands with his arms. Incidental controller contact was a quick way to get snuggling privileges revoked—Kuroo had found this out the hard way. 

Nuzzling into Kenma’s neck, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, wondering if it was possible to fall asleep like this. Standing up, half bent over the couch, high on Kenma fumes. He huffed a laugh.

“Get off of me,” Kenma said plainly.

Kuroo pulled back, shocked. Sure, every now and then Kenma said something like that teasingly, but they’d been around each other long enough for Kuroo to be able to hear the difference. This had been...flat. It hadn’t been mean, exactly...but he’d still meant it.

“Kenma?” Kuroo asked weakly.

“I don’t like how you smell,” Kenma elaborated, still leaving Kuroo confused. 

“Do I stink?” Kuroo asked, trying to smell himself. With all the food, booze, colognes, and perfumes he had no clue what he smelled like at this point. Surely Sawamura would’ve told him if he’d had b.o. though, right?

Kenma gave a one-shoulder shrug, not looking away from the tv. “You just smell different. Not like Kuro.” Now his eyes flickered to Kuroo for the briefest second.

“What does 'Kuro' smell like?” Kuroo asked, puzzled.

“Not like that,” Kenma replied. “Just like...Kuro.” For a minute Kuroo thought that must be the end of it. But finally Kenma shrugged again and mumbled, “I want my Kuro back.”

Fourth Date

Kenma hated feeling this way.

He hated his own pettiness. He hated that part of him that panicked. That was going crazy. That pushed Kuroo away.

All weekend had been awkward. Kuroo had tried, in those nerdy sweet ways of his, to fix things. Cooking Kenma’s favorite things, suggesting they watch their favorite movies, pretending to be lighthearted and silly—but Kenma couldn’t handle it. Something had...cracked...between them. 

And he didn’t know how to fix it.

If anything, he made it worse. 

He kept telling himself that he was overreacting, that once this whole stupid fake-dating thing was over, they could go back to normal. His Kuroo would be his again, there was nothing to worry about, everything would just fall back into place like it always did with them. 

But no matter how many times he told himself that, he couldn’t let it go. So he avoided Kuroo all weekend, retreating to his room whenever possible. 

And though he immediately regretted it, he didn’t see Kuroo off when he left for work Monday morning. He didn’t even acknowledge that he heard him when Kuroo called to him from the other side of his bedroom door.

“Kenma? I’m heading out. I—I dunno if you remember, but I’m gonna be gone all week. I’ll be back Friday evening and then I have a thing...” he trailed off. “It doesn’t matter. Anyway, I’ll be back Friday, okay?” He cleared his throat, tried for his serious-parent tone. “I’ll text you tonight. I portioned up some stuff in the fridge—eat it!” Then, for the third time he said, “I’ll be back Friday.” He waited a few seconds, no doubt to see if Kenma would answer.

And when he didn’t, left.

Kuroo was in such a hurry to get through the door he dropped the keys twice.

The week away had been...hard. It was always hard, in a way, being away from Kenma. No matter what, he worried. Yeah, sure, Kenma was an adult (probably a better adult than Kuroo, if he let himself think about it) but he also did goofy things like forget to eat and get so distracted by video games he didn’t sleep.

But this was the worst week away that Kuroo could remember. He’d already been stressed from Kenma’s strange moody behavior (that had only worsened in the last couple weeks) but had Kenma ever not at least told him good bye?

He tried texting but the replies were few and far between. And terse when they finally came. Kuroo checked his phone so much, waiting for some sort of text or call, that his coworkers and business partners started making fun of him for it, teasing him about being too infatuated with his beefcake boyfriend that they’d recently had the pleasure of meeting.

“Kenma!” he said, barely through the door, then stopped. It had only been a week but the house felt...off. Stale. Too quiet and too dark for the early evening hour. 

“You’re early,” Kenma said from the couch, blinking in surprise. His voice sounded rough, like he hadn’t spoken for days. “I thought you were coming back Friday?”

Kuroo frowned, rounding the couch to look down at him. “Today is Friday,” he replied slowly. Kenma’s hands were wrapped around a controller, which was typical. But his thumbs weren’t moving and after Kuroo glanced at the television, he saw that Kenma’s character wasn’t moving either. It was stopped in front of a wall, actually. 

“It is?” Kenma asked slowly, rubbing at his eyes.

“How long have you been up?” Kuroo asked suspiciously. He reached for the controller and Kenma gave it up without resistance, so Kuroo knew something was definitely wrong. “When was the last time you ate?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” Kenma mumbled, ignoring the second question. “I don’t know. I...I couldn’t sleep,” he repeated lamely. “I’m sorry. Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Kuroo sighed, running his fingers through Kenma’s hair, which did feel a bit greasy. He wondered if Kenma had even moved from the couch for days. Crouching down to get closer to eye level, he asked softly, “You ready for bed or can you eat something first?”

Kenma gave his head a small shake. “I’m not hungry. But I think—” he yawned and his eyelids drooped. “I think I can sleep now.” He started to fall forward, but Kuroo caught him. “Now that you’re home,” he mumbled.

“Grr,” Kuroo growled playfully, hefting Kenma in his arms and carrying him to his room—no, it wasn’t weird, his room was closer than Kenma’s and he didn’t want to pack him all that way. “Being so cute after worrying me to death and scaring the crap out of me is so not fair.” 

Kenma ignored that, apparently already mostly or all asleep. So when Kuroo set him on the bed and asked with a frown, “Hey. Are you wearing my hoodie?” he didn’t really expect an answer.

“No,” Kenma mumbled, pulling the collar higher around his face.

“Liar,” Kuroo said with a snort, crawling in beside him. Pulling Kenma to his chest, he murmured, “Y’know, I couldn’t sleep either.”

“Fuck,” Kuroo said emphatically a half hour later, fumbling for his phone to shut off the alarm. Finally silenced, he tossed his phone across the bed. “Fuck.”

“What was that?” Kenma scowled, cracking an eyelid. “I thought we were taking a nap.”

Kuroo wanted to kiss that pout right off his face. “I have a...thing. Tonight.” Kuroo groaned. “Gotta get ready.”

“Oh,” Kenma said quietly.

“But you can keep napping, okay?” Kuroo petted Kenma’s hair. “Scratch that—you better keep napping.” Kenma turned his face slightly, sleepily nuzzling into Kuroo’s hand. 

Fuck, Kuroo wanted to stay. Sleepy sweet Kenma in his bed was better than any stupid party but—well, this was a big one. Maybe the most important one. And after how distracted and flaky he’d been at work the last week, he needed to make up for it. 

He couldn’t miss it. No matter how badly he wanted to.

“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” Kuroo promised. Before he could think better of it, he grabbed one of Kenma’s hands and pressed his lips to the back of Kenma’s fingers in a quick kiss. He doubted Kenma was even awake enough to notice or remember. “Then only one more to go.”

“Oho, what’s this?” Kuroo asked, shifting the back of Daichi’s collar with a fingertip, careful not to actually touch. “Well well, darling. Either you’re cheating on me or you’re really committing to the role.”

Heat flooded Daichi’s face. 

“Sugawara-san’s finally marking his territory?” Kuroo asked with a smirk. Laughing, he clapped Daichi’s shoulder. “Good for him. And you. But still…” His smile fell awkwardly away. “Now I feel kinda bad making you do this.”

“It’s fine,” Daichi gave a dismissive wave. “He and I discussed it and...well, we’re almost done anyway, right?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo said with a watery smile. “Finally.”

“But hey…are you…like, okay?” Daichi asked, obviously concerned. “No offense but you look like shit.”

“Sweetie, you say the nicest things!” Kuroo flashed a smirk, then slumped. “Do I really look that bad?”

“Well…”

“Contrary to the saying, honesty is not always the best policy, Sawamura,” he teasingly warned.

Daichi chuckled. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”

“Ah,” Kuroo huffed a mirthless laugh. “Well. I haven’t, really, so I suppose that’s probably why.”

“What?” Daichi asked, shocked. “Why not?”

“Kenma...” catching the soft expression on Daichi’s face, Kuroo frowned. “What’s that look for?”

“Nothing,” Daichi said with a tiny smile. “Of course it’s Kenma.”

Kuroo wanted to be irritated, argue with him. But he couldn’t. “Of course it’s Kenma,” he repeated back with a resigned sigh. He ran his hand through his hair. “He...he hardly talked to me the whole week I was gone. One of the last things he said to me before I left was that I don’t smell like ‘his Kuro’ anymore. What does that mean?” Kuroo frowned in confusion at Daichi’s flushed face. “And why are you so red?”

“Nothing, it’s just...” Sheepish, he scratched the back of his neck. “Suga, uh, said the same thing. Right before, uh, this happened.” He gestured loosely toward the hickey.

“So you’re saying you haven’t slept in a week either, but for fun reasons?” Kuroo asked, eyes narrowed. 

“Kuroo!” Daichi reprimanded. “And no, I’m sleeping just fine thank you.”

Kuroo brayed a laugh. “Of course you are.” He glanced at Daichi’s collar. “I’m jealous,” he admitted. “I’d much rather Kenma maul me than be mad at me.” With a frown he muttered under his breath, “Damn. I’d love for Kenma to maul me.”

Daichi snorted. “Maybe you should tell him that.”

“Oh, right,” Kuroo said with an eyeroll. “I’m sure that would go over just great. ‘Hey, I know you’re super pissed at me right now but I’ve been in love with you probably forever, wanna make out?’ Seriously?”

“Isn’t he mad because he’s jealous?” Daichi asked with a one-shoulder shrug. “I doubt it would piss him off any worse.”

“Wait. You think he’s jealous?” Kuroo asked, surprised.

“Uhhh...yes?”

“Really?” Kuroo asked, voice rising.

“Yes,” Daichi said again. “Can you think of another reason he’d be mad and ignoring you?”

Kuroo blinked rapidly. “But...but I did this for him. I mean, yeah, of course he would have been my first choice. But he hates stuff like this. Public stuff. Parties, schmoozing, getting dressed up. And then to be—seriously, you mention anything even remotely romantic and he scrunches up his face all disgusted. It’s adorable but...anyway! It’s because I love him that I didn’t ask him!”

Daichi held up his hands in surrender. “Fine, fine!” He hissed, catching some of the concerned glances from the people around them. 

Kuroo glanced at his watch for the millionth time but the stupid party wasn’t even close to being over. If time flies when you’re having fun then apparently the inverse is also true.

“That bad?” Daichi asked, eyes flickering to Kuroo’s watch. “Can’t you—we—duck out a little early?”

Frustrated, Kuroo shook his head. “I have to be here. After being a shitshow at work all week, I can’t afford to fuck this up too.” He took a sip of his drink—something really boring and non-alcoholic but disguised to look like a cocktail. He figured booze and fatigue might be a bad combo. “Man, I hope Kenma’s still in my bed when I get back.”

Daichi choked on his own mocktail. “What?!”

Kuroo just blinked at him. “What?”

“No, seriously, what did you just say? You hope Kenma’s still in your bed when you get back?” Daichi furrowed his brow, incredulous and confused. “I thought you were fighting.”

“Well, we aren’t fighting so much as he’s not really speaking to me at the moment—”

“So why is he in your bed?!”

“Because we were taking a nap..?”

“I swear,” Daichi growled, knocking back the rest of his drink and obviously wishing now it was a real cocktail. “Are you being an idiot naturally or are you doing this on purpose?”

Kenma sat cross-legged on a cushion on the floor, playing a game. Of course. Kuroo was about to reprimand him but he actually looked alert. And recently-showered.

“I slept for a few hours,” Kenma said defensively before Kuroo could nag. He glanced over, doing a quickly double take. “You look really bad.”

Kuroo snorted a silent laugh. “I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” He walked over and sat next to Kenma with a heavy thump. “Sawa—” he hesitated, unsure if mentioning his fake date would just make Kenma upset again. “Sawamura told me I look like shit.”

Kenma actually snickered.

“Is that another of my hoodies?” Kuroo asked. Not that he actually minded.

“No,” Kenma said immediately. 

“Liar.” Kuroo smiled, enjoying the familiar banter. He watched the tv for a moment, waiting for Kenma to get to a good spot in his game. “Hey, hold your arms out, would ya?”

With a confused frown, Kenma hit pause, then tentatively stretched his arms out to each side. “Why am I—”

Not waiting for him to finish, Kuroo tackled him. Burying his head into Kenma’s chest, he took a deep breath, smelling his own hoodie, which was a little weird.

This what ‘my Kuro’ must smell like, he thought idly.

And in the next second realized why Kenma was wearing his shirts.

And in the next second after that, squeezed his arms around him even tighter.

“If you wanted a hug you could’ve just said so,” Kenma huffed a laugh, letting the controller fall from his hand as he loosely wrapped his arms around Kuroo’s back.

“Don’t push me away,” Kuroo mumbled into Kenma’s chest. “Don’t tell me I stink and to get away from you.”

“That’s not even what I meant—”

“I couldn’t sleep all week. I was a fucking disaster. An embarrassing mess,” he confessed into his own hoodie. Turning his head to the side, his ear rested over Kenma’s heart. “I’m so fucking tired. Let me—” Kuroo blew out a shaky sigh. “Just let me recharge. Okay?”

“Okay,” Kenma said, sounding a little amused of all things. 

Kuroo lost track of how long they just stayed there, Kenma’s heartbeat steady and reassuring under his ear, Kenma’s hand stroking slowly down his back. Every once in a while, Kenma would risk combing his fingers through Kuroo’s hair, lightly scratching his scalp. 

“I could let you do this forever,” Kuroo mumbled, a little drooly. “Can I come back as your cat in my next life?” He felt Kenma’s silent laugh underneath him.

“That’d be about the only way I could lift you into bed,” Kenma said dryly. 

“I told Sawamura about that and he called me an idiot,” Kuroo pouted.  

“Wow,” Kenma said, deadpan. “He told you that you looked like shit and he called you an idiot all in the same night? Sounds like a keeper.” After Kuroo’s indignant huff, he added too-carefully, “And how is Sawamura?”

“Great,” Kuroo replied casually. Kenma’s hand froze. “He showed up to our date covered in hickies.” After another moment’s hesitation, Kenma resumed stroking Kuroo’s back. “Well, only one was visible. And that’s because I’m tall enough to see down his collar. But still, I’m sure there were more. That Sugawara’s crafty—I have no doubt he thoroughly staked out his territory.”

“You seem pretty interested in Sawamura’s hickies,” Kenma observed. “Sad that you got your boyfriend stolen out from under you?”

“Nah, I’ve got a much better one under me right now,” Kuroo said without thinking and immediately Kenma stiffened (no pun intended) under him. “I mean—that’s not—” Kuroo blathered, trying to correct himself. 

But what was there to correct? He’d meant exactly what he said.

“Sorry,” he fumbled. “That came out wrong. I-I get inappropriate when I’m this tired.”

“Pretty sure you’re inappropriate all the time,” Kenma teased dryly. “Do you want to get up and go to bed?”

No, Kuroo did not. He wanted to stay here, Kenma’s arms around him, hands scratching and petting him, all night. Maybe forever.

“No,” he answered honestly. 

Kenma chuckled quietly and didn’t say anything for a while. Kuroo was half asleep (maybe three-quarters) when Kenma asked, “So your wedding’s tomorrow?”

“Not my wedding!” Kuroo protested. “The wedding. Some cousin from my mom’s side of the family.” 

“Ah,” Kenma said in understanding. “That’s why you needed a date.”

“Yeah.” Kuroo sighed. “Bunch of nosy relatives prying into my personal crap, judging shit. It’s just easier to nip that in the bud. And mom...” Maybe he was imagining it, but it kind of felt like Kenma hugged him just a little tighter. “I think she feels bad for, y’know...not being around or whatever. So it’s like she tries to make up for it in weird ways, like by trying to be ‘involved’ now or something. And I just thought, if she saw I was with someone and happy, she could...she could quit trying so hard and making things harder for both of us. We could both just...move on.”

“Sounds like tomorrow might be the hardest one yet.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo said after a moment. He almost told Kenma that he wasn’t totally sure if Daichi was going to be there. But he didn’t want Kenma to worry.

“But it’s the last one,” Kenma added. Kuroo thought he sounded happy.

“Yeah.”

Last Date

Huh. It looked like Sawamura really wasn’t coming.

Sure, Kuroo had told him repeatedly that he didn’t have to show up today—and he’d meant it—but he still kind of thought that being the steadfast, dependable type, he still might show up. 

Maybe Sugawara had handcuffed him to the bed.

It didn’t really matter, Kuroo supposed. Sure, it would have been easier to wade through all the weird family bullshit today if he’d had a boyfriend buffer. But he could survive it. At least Kenma didn’t seem mad at him anymore. Well, he’d been maybe a little mad when they’d woken up this morning with stiff backs from sleeping on the floor, but that was the kind of mad that Kuroo was used to. A piece of apple pie could fix that kind of mad. 

So yeah. If spending all night held by Kenma was some sort of karmic trade for not having Sawamura show up today, it was more than worth it.

Still, he waited in the lobby of the venue, just in case. It gave him an excuse to hang out by himself until the absolute last minute anyway.

Well. Sawamura really wasn’t coming. 

Kuroo turned to head inside the wedding hall when he heard quickly approaching footsteps.

“You’re always keeping me waiting,” Kuroo joked.

“You’re one to talk,” a quietly amused voice retorted.

That…was not Sawamura.

“Kenma?!” Kuroo whirled around.

“Sawamura won’t be coming. He’s currently on an all-expenses paid hot springs getaway with his real boyfriend.” Kenma looked away nervously. “I hope you’re not disappointed.”

“N-no…what? No!” Kuroo couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Kenma—in public, at a wedding, of all things, hair tied back artfully in that half-bun thing Kuroo loved, and dressed to kill. No faded hoodie (his or Kuroo’s) or holey sweats in sight. “This is what dreams are made of, why would I be disappointed?” Kuroo rambled. “Seriously…damn, you clean up nice. Just…just look at you.”

“Kuro?” Kenma tried not to laugh. “Are you okay?”

“No I’m not okay! You look freakin’ gorgeous!”

Kenma choked a laugh, trying to glare even has he hid a smile behind his hand. “Now you know how it feels, Mr. Armani.”

“Oh shit, did I say that out loud?” Kuroo asked, wide-eyed and blushing. “Wait, what did you just say? What did that mean?”

“You dress up and look hot practically every day,” Kenma mumbled defensively, eyes darting away. “Now you know how it feels to be the one looking. Anyway,” he cleared his throat a little. “Shouldn’t we go?”

“Yeah,” Kuroo said, still a little stunned.

They settled into one of the furthest back rows, which was empty enough to allow them a little space on either side. 

“I still can’t believe you...” Kuroo whispered, it finally sinking in. 

“Hmm?”

“Just because Sawamura didn’t—” show up, Kuroo almost said, before realizing that it sounded far more like he had been specifically sent away, courtesy of Bouncing Ball, Inc., apparently. “I’m not complaining,” Kuroo started over, “but why are you here?”

Kenma blinked back at him. “I came to be your boyfriend,” he said simply.

It took Kuroo a second to process before he exhaled a disappointed huff of a laugh. “Kenma, I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do this for me. You were right the whole time, the whole fake dating thing is dumb—”

“No,” Kenma said with the faintest shake of his head. “I don’t mean fake dating.” His hand shook a little as he reached over and threaded his fingers with Kuroo’s. Looking straight into Kuroo’s eyes, he repeated slowly, “I came to be your boyfriend.”

For a moment Kuroo forgot to breathe and just stared back in shock. 

With a frown, Kenma looked away, chewing on his bottom lip. “Sorry, I guess I—”

“No!” Kuroo blurted, and a couple people in the row in front of them turned to glare. “No,” he whispered again just for Kenma, squeezing his hand. “That’s not—Really?”

Kenma looked for all the world like he wanted to run away, but he managed to nod. "Yeah."

“Why would you tell me that—” Kuroo hissed, and Kenma’s eyes widened, instantly hurt, “—in a time and place I can’t kiss you?”

Kenma blinked at him for a second before hiding his face behind his free hand. “You scared the shit out of me,” he said, slightly muffled.

“Sorry,” Kuroo apologized. “I should've phrased that differently. But I’m legit seriously thinking about skipping the ceremony and making out in a supply closet somewhere.” He continued, despite Kenma’s glare, “It’s not like anyone is going to notice we’re not here, right?” His tongue darted nervously across his bottom lip. “Whaddya say?”

Kenma stared back at him flatly. “We are not making out in a supply closet at your cousin’s wedding, Kuro.” Mustering up his courage, he quickly brushed a kiss to the corner of Kuroo’s mouth. “That’ll have to hold you over until we get home.”

Kuroo groaned, earning him another nasty look from the people in front of them.

“This ceremony is taking forever,” Kuroo whispered. Because it was.

“That’s why I try to avoid weddings at all costs,” Kenma whispered back, sounding equally bored. “I would be perfectly happy never attending another one in my life.”

“Not even ours?” 

Kenma rolled his eyes, but he was totally blushing. “Sawamura was right. You’re an idiot.” 

Kuroo resisted laughing lest the people in front of him shoot him another irritated glare. 

At the reception, Kuroo hurried to find his mom so they could accomplish what he came for then get home (and make out) as soon as possible.

“Oh, Tetsurou! You made it after all.” His mom smiled, unsure, as she glanced between the two of them. “W-who is this?”

“This is my best friend.” Kuroo grinned, ecstatic at finally being able to tell the honest truth, and interlaced his fingers with Kenma’s. “And love of my life, Kozume Kenma.”