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It had been a long day, and honestly, the last thing Kuroo needed was to be second-guessing the decision that could make or break the longest friendship he’d ever had- and really, the only one he’d ever truly been emotionally invested in.
But as the two of them sat on the train ride home, Kuroo’s gaze rested on Kenma as he mentally prepared himself for what he knew he had to do.
There were few things that actually succeeded in getting under Kuroo Tetsurou's skin. Typically, he considered himself a pretty laid-back guy, which effortlessly manifested itself in his relatively easygoing nature and confident smirk.
But when something did manage to get under his skin, it picked its way into his innermost thoughts. It refused to quit nagging at him, always becoming the focus of his thoughts in moments when he wasn't preoccupied with assignments or game strategies.
Whether or not these concerns were frustrating, disheartening, annoying, or something else entirely all depended upon what the topic was.
For example, his constant bed-head? Frustrating, especially since it gave people the wrong impression- he didn't style his hair like that, he'd sworn it up and down, but for some reason everyone just implied he feel guilty for styling it. Even his mom looked at him with disbelief when he'd told her he only kept sleeping on it wrong.
The look of shock on Yamamoto's face when he'd asked Kuroo if he still "held the v-card", only to be answered with an unashamed "yes"? Annoying, mostly because his personal life was no one else's business, and it wasn't like it mattered- he could do what he wanted, when he wanted. It had only gotten under his skin because it had taken him by surprise- and because that was the first time he'd realize people saw him as that kind of guy (he'd asked for Kenma's opinion on the matter later, said best friend not even bothering to look up from his game as he reassured Kuroo that no, he didn't strike anyone as that kind of guy, and was, in contrast, a huge dork).
The look of surprise on just about anybody's face when they saw him wearing his uniform right, or asked about his classes only to hear that his courses were college prep? Somewhere between disheartening and annoying, mostly because it was insulting to know he didn't look intelligent.
The fact that he couldn't help the way he found himself gazing softly and unabashedly at his absolute best friend in the entire world, and that said best friend didn't seem to notice at all? This was the one thing that didn't compare to anything else Kuroo had ever gone through.
It kept him awake at night, it haunted him during classes, it forced its way into his head during volleyball practice, and yet, despite how much he thought about how he needed to not stare at his Kozume Kenma, his gaze always ended up right back on the setter. Sure, it was frustrating that Kenma, for all his people-reading skills, never seemed to notice Kuroo’s mildly incessant staring, but what was even worse was that Kuroo couldn’t control it. It was like Kenma was the default for his eyes or something.
He'd known he had it bad for a while, probably ever since the younger boy had considered quitting as a first-year. That was when it had hit Kuroo that no way in hell did he want to play without his best friend at his side. It kept escalating from there, to a full-blown crush, to mild infatuation, to mild jealousy when Kenma immediately hit it off Karasuno’s shorty, to the realization that there was never going to be any escape until he addressed his feelings.
Kuroo had it bad. And that was why, today, on their way home together, he was going to confess. It couldn’t possibly be that hard, could it?
Kenma sat next to him on the bus, tapping away at his game in an attempt to beat what appeared to be a hard stage- he’d spent the last five minutes on it. Kuroo had been watching him intently the whole time, amber eyes soft like some sappy shoujo love interest. If that didn’t constitute having it bad, he didn’t know what did.
He sucked in a breath as inaudibly as he possibly could, glancing at the much smaller boy next to him, strands of his half-blond hair falling into his eyes as he honed in on slaughtering the zombies that graced the screen of his PSP. “What?” Kenma mumbled, Kuroo evidently not having been quiet enough in his sigh of pining.
“Nothing. Just wondering if there was any particular reason you were struggling so much with that level.” Shit, that was a perfect opportunity, why am I stalling? Kuroo agonized silently. His palms felt sweaty. They never felt sweaty. It felt gross.
Beneath the curtain of his hair, Kenma raised an eyebrow. “If you say so.”
After that, the tiny clicks of buttons and the muted voices of the people around them were the only things filling a seemingly-endless silence. Kuroo had never hated silence before, at least not with Kenma (though there had never really much of a word shortage between their idle banter and Kuroo’s one-sided conversations), but today, it seemed to drag on without any sign of ceasing.
And he couldn’t stand it.
“Hey, there’s something I’ve gotta tell you,” he informed Kenma. To him, the words sounded like they had been forced out, not at all calm and not at all prepared. This was probably because he had forced them out, not giving himself the choice to stuff the words into the back of his mind- not giving himself another chance to chickenshit his way out.
Kenma huffed out a breath, “Can it wait until I finish this level?”
No, because I’ll probably realize this is a stupid idea by then? “Yes.”
“Good.”
By the time Kenma finished the level, they’d reached their stop (it hadn’t taken more than a minute or two, which was expected what with their ride’s usual length and Kenma’s gaming abilities). They both stepped off, Kuroo completely prepared to ignore his earlier request when Kenma didn’t immediately bring it up. However, just as they made their way to the sidewalk, Kenma grabbed Kuroo’s hand. “So what did you need to tell me earlier?” he inquired, his golden eyes boring a hole into Kuroo’s face.
“I.. okay, Kenma? Before I tell you, promise me that we won’t stop being friends.” There was no use beating around the bush; they were both mostly blunt people. Why make this any worse than it had to be?
Kenma nodded slowly. “There’s not much you could say that would stop me from being friends with you.”
“Um, okay, here it goes.. I don’t know how to say this…” Kuroo shifted on his feet, taking in a heavy breath as though he could draw in confidence instead of oxygen, “I.. I like you. As more than a friend.”
“I know.”
“I thought you’d notice before now, I mean, you’re literally the most observant person on the team, but I’ve held it in for too long and- sorry, you knew?”
Kuroo’s brows furrowed in confusion as a small smirk slipped onto Kenma’s typically-emotionless face. “Yeah, I knew. At least, I know you can’t stop staring at me, and you’d been acting weird all day. And your confession wasn’t really that subtle- the ‘let’s still be friends’ speech is pretty common when someone asks out a friend.”
Indignance slipped onto Kuroo’s face, mingling with just a hint of betrayal. “How come you didn’t tell me that you knew?” he couldn’t help whining. Here he had been, pining the entirety of the day, and Kenma had known? “How long ago did you even figure this out?”
Kenma shrugged, no longer meeting Kuroo’s gaze. “I didn’t wanna call you out on it. I figured I’d give you time.” The setter’s voice was quiet, and Kuroo took into account that he didn’t answer the second question, either.
“You were nervous, weren’t you?”
The golden gaze was back on Kuroo immediately, glinting with an affronted shine. “N-no! I just..” he paused, and this time he was the one to sigh, “I just didn’t want to be wrong.”
Kuroo immediately wiped away the smug grin that had been developing on his face. “First of all, there’s no way you could ever be wrong about something like that. You can read people like a book. And second.. does that mean you like me back?” he dared to voice his hopes.
The tiniest of smiles flickered on Kenma’s face, and suddenly Kuroo’s heart was soaring. “Yeah. You’re an oversized dork, but yeah.”
For the rest of the walk home, Kuroo couldn’t help focusing on how small Kenma’s hand was in his, completely oblivious to the fact that his best friend- boyfriend- hadn’t made a single complaint about not being able to game.