Chapter Text
“If you came with me to the library, you wouldn’t have to pull all-nighters cramming.”
“Stop saying things.” Kenma showed up to Tetsurou’s apartment after his afternoon midterm. He’d thrown his bag on the ground without a word, and planted himself face first on the sofa. Which is where he is right now. “My brain doesn’t have the capacity to understand any words you’re saying right now.”
“Which is so different from normally how?”
“I normally understand what you’re saying, I just choose to ignore you.”
“Ah, an important distinction.” Tetsurou can’t help the smile that takes over his face.
“I’m only going to sleep for a bit,” Kenma mumbles, eyes already closed, body tucked into a tight ball.
“At least go put on some sweatpants. You’re going to get cranky if you wake up in jeans.”
Kenma grunts and slaps Tetsurou’s hand away when Tetsurou pokes at him. Tetsurou huffs a quiet laugh and goes to his room. He bends down to pull out sweatpants and an old shirt from the laundry he just did and brings it back out to Kenma.
“Come on, arms up.” He pokes Kenma again and Kenma obliges, obediently cooperating with Tetsurou as Tetsurou helps him get changed.
Tetsurou’s cheeks heat as Kenma’s fingers fumble to undo his jeans. The sound of Kenma’s zipper lowering rings loudly in Tetsurou’s ears; his mouth feels dry and his tongue too big. He looks away to avoid doing anything stupid, like finally admitting he thinks about touching Kenma all the time.
“Here.” The word comes out quiet and just a bit husky. Tetsurou passes the sweatpants to Kenma who shimmies into them without leaving his horizontal position on the couch.
Kenma flaps his arms until the loose sleeves come down to cover his hands. He snuggles into a throw pillow. “Thank you, Kuro.”
Tetsurou wonders how much longer he can hold his feelings inside. Wonders when they’ll get fed up with all of his stalling and crawl out of his mouth themselves. “Yeah. No problem.”
He moves to sit at the low table in his living room, legs crossed and arms folded. He lets himself indulge in watching a sleeping Kenma. He doesn’t want to comment on how long he sits like that. Which, while absolutely hopeless, wouldn’t be a problem on a typical day. Though on a typical day, Yaku isn’t due to arrive from Russia at any moment.
Which leads to two issues. First, Yaku is a loud little man and Tetsurou is sure he will wake Kenma up before he even walks through the door. Kenma’s had back-to-back midterms and really needs to catch up on his sleep, and if Yaku gets in the way of that, Tetsurou can’t promise there won’t be blood.
Second, and infinitely more embarrassing, Yaku will just know that Tetsurou has been watching Kenma sleep like some lovesick idiot. He’d be totally right about that, but that’s not the point! The point is Tetsurou will not be seen pining for Kenma by his enemy-turned-best-friend.
He sighs, opens his message history with Yaku.
Tetsurou:
When your taxi gets here just text me. Don’t knock.
Yaku:
Weird, but okay.
Should be there in 5 to 10 minutes.
Tetsurou pulls out some textbooks, his laptop. He knows Yaku will see right through him, but it should help him keep his pride intact. Tetsurou’s phone lights up and he quickly opens the door before Yaku can decide he’s waited too long and bang on the door in retaliation.
“Hey, you asshole!” Yaku smiles and punches Tetsurou in the stomach before giving him a hug.
“Yaku. Always a charmer.” He whispers the greeting, hoping Yaku gets the hint and quiets the fuck down.
“What’s going on? Why are you whispering so sweetly into my ear?” Yaku pushes him away.
“Nothing,” Kuroo says, raising his voice the smallest amount. “I’m being normal.”
“Sure, sure.”
“Kuro? Who’s here?” Kenma appears in the entry way with bedhead and sleepy eyes. The sweatpants and long sleeve shirt Tetsurou let him borrow hang off his frame in a way that devastates Tetsurou’s heart.
“Oh.” Yaku’s mouth hangs open, obvious delight dancing in his eyes. “Hello, Kenma. I didn’t realise you were here.” Tetsurou smacks the back of Yaku’s head as hard as he can manage. “Ow!”
“Hello, Yaku.” Kenma smiles, looking half-awake and confused. “How’s Russia?” He shuffles over to give Yaku a hug.
“Good. Turns out Lev is a Russian anomaly. Most people there are actually really normal.”
Kenma laughs. “He’s one of a kind.” He turns to Tetsurou. “Can I give you these back later?” He pulls at the fabric of his shirt.
“Yeah, for sure.”
Kenma nods. “Sorry to leave just when you get here, but I’ll be at your welcome home dinner tomorrow. I’ve got a lot of projects going on right now.”
Yaku waves Kenma’s assurances away. “Don’t worry! We’ll catch up tomorrow!”
Yaku is too quiet for Tetsurou’s comfort as Kenma grabs his bookbag and leaves. Tetsurou holds his breath as the door closes and he turns to his friend. When Yaku pats him on the back, it feels both insulting and comforting. “So, I see that’s still happening. Or not happening, as it turns out.”
Tetsurou’s head hangs from his shoulders as he leads Yaku to the living room. He sits on the sofa where Kenma’s head was, puts the pillow on his lap. Yaku makes a face a him. “Ugh, gross. Are you trying to smell him?”
Tetsurou takes the pillow and throws it at Yaku’s face. “Shut up.”
Yaku laughs. “You have to tell him before I die.”
“If you’re going to keep being a dick, that might not give me much time.”
“You have to treat me for dinner first, you cheapskate.” Yaku folds his arms across his chest. “You’re not getting out of it by murdering me.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Tetsurou stands, leads him to the hall. “I’ll show you where you can put your stuff.”
“Let me use the washroom first.” Yaku pops up and runs off.
Tetsurou is left in the living room alone. He picks up the pillow he’d just thrown at Yaku, brings it close to his face and breathes deeply.