"He's like this lanky, half Russian tower of a man," Kuroo explained, waving his fingers above his head to indicate the height of his roommate. "He also happens to be incredibly stupid and he seems exceptionally happy about it."
Oikawa sipped at his frozen coffee, "Mhm."
"When Kai said he found someone to sublease his part of the rent he didn't mention it was a hyperactive foreigner."
"Well, naturally," Oikawa responded, attempting to scoop whipped cream off the top of his drink with his straw. It flopped off the straw and onto the table. Oikawa poked out his lower lip.
"He's only been living with Yaku and I... what, a week?" Kuroo mused, mentally counting back through the days of torture he had endured.
Oikawa was bobbing his straw in the air as he thought, "He wasn't there when I visited last so... yeah. A week."
"A week, and I already want to pull my hair out," Kuroo motioned toward the locks angled out rebelliously from his scalp.
"It looks like you've already tried."
"Shut up. And God," he allowed his arm to fall heavily on the table, "Kenma can't stand him. Every time Kenma comes over I just watch the blood drain out of his face as he tries not to break into a full sprint in the opposite direction."
Oikawa chuckled, "Poor kid. Dealing with you is bad enough as it is."
Kuroo picked up Oikawa's unused plastic spoon and lofted it at his head. Oikawa squeaked as he curled into himself to avoid it. "Improper use of plastic ware!" he whined. Then he opened one eye, peeking over his drink at Kuroo, "What's his name?"
"The new guy. Your roommate."
Oikawa's lips pulled down. "Lev, huh? I expected something more..." his hands twirled around in the air, "Russian."
Kuroo narrowed his eyes in spite of his amusement, "What? What's more Russian than 'Lev'?"
"Like... like 'Ivan' or 'Maxim'."
Kuroo meant to sigh but it came out as a sort of exasperated chuckle, "Oh, and since he's half Japanese I suppose his family name should be 'Sato'?"
Oikawa looked up at him with genuine interest, "Is Sato still the most common surname in Japan?"
"Please keep up with worldly trends for the sake of my jokes Oikawa."
"As I was saying, Kenma can't stand him. But the real problem is Lev loves Kenma."
Oikawa almost snorted, "Oh God."
"He's always so excited to see him. Lev is like that little niece or nephew that loves you to death and always wants to talk to you, and you just do your best to smile and nod while thinking about stuffing a sock in their mouth."
Oikawa almost spit his coffee and covered his lips with his fingers.
"Or like that not-so-well trained dog at your friends house that greets you at the front door by jumping on your chest and drooling all over your shoes."
Oikawa held up his hand, "I can't decide if I'm more appalled that Lev resembles these things or that you just likened a slobbering dog to a human child."
Kuroo moved on without pause, "In any case," he said, leaning back against the cafe seat and interlocking his fingers behind his head, "my lease is up soon and I thought I was going to renew there, but now..."
Oikawa blinked up at him, "Have any offers for a roommate yet?"
"No, I don't even know who I could ask."
Oikawa twisted his mouth down, then poked his straw back into his slushy coffee nonsense. He cocked his head to the side. "Why don't you ask Kenma?" he questioned, pinching the straw between his lips.
Kuroo furrowed his brow, "Kenma?"
Oikawa straightened his back, "You have to have thought about it right? You'll be finishing up your degree pretty soon and Kenma isn't required to stay in the dorms anymore, is he? You guys spend most of your free time together anyway... when we're not playing, that is."
"Hmm," Kuroo hummed, "I didn't really think about it because of his situation with the dorms... but I think you're right..."
Oikawa nodded dramatically with condescendingly wide eyes.
"Huh," Kuroo said, tilting his chin up, "You were useful after all. I think I'll ask him."
"It was only a matter of time anyway."
Kuroo cocked one eyebrow upward, "What?"
Oikawa's eyes fell down to his drink and he hurriedly slurped at it, "Nothing sweetie," he said against his straw.
"Mhm," Kuroo mumbled faithlessly.
But he couldn't deny it, living with Kenma was a good idea. Now all he had to do was ask him.
"Knock knock," Kuroo tapped against the doorframe of Kenma's open dorm room.
Kenma glanced up from his desk, visually acknowledged him, then turned his eyes back to his homework.
"I wanted to ask you a few things."
"Go ahead," Kenma said.
"So, you're not required to stay in the dorms anymore are you?" Kuroo was watching Kenma's fingers move his pen in quick strokes over his paper.
"Not since the new semester started, no."
There was groaning from the hallway, and the sound of a loud crash.
Kuroo thought he knew the answer to his next question, but he figured he'd ask anyway, "You're not attached to the dorms for some reason, right?"
Kenma lifted his gaze to Kuroo as Kanji, one of Kenma's roommates, stumbled into the room. "Oh. Kenma-san, Kuroo-san," he greeted weakly. His face was pallid and had a sheen of sweat over his forehead. He winced, chest lurching forward, "Uhg, I'm so hungover."
Kenma looked at Kanji like he had just licked the bottom of a shoe.
"Oh and sorry about last weekend," Kanji was saying, moving behind them slowly while clutching his stomach.
"What happened last weekend?" Kuroo asked.
Kanji paused to lean against the frame of his bed, squeezing his eyes closed, "I puked on his textbook."
Kenma blinked very pointedly at Kuroo, "No," he answered dryly, "not attached."
Kuroo pursed his lips. He wasn't sure if he was smiling or cringing. Maybe a bit of both.
"Well, I would hate to take you away from all that," Kuroo said, fingers sliding against the top of Kenma's desk, "but Lev is driving me nuts and my lease is up this coming weekend. Want to get a place together?"
Kenma cast him a sideways look before moving his eyes back to his notebook, "Sure."
Kuroo blinked and gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, "Well that was easy."
"Did you tell Tooru you were going to ask me?" Kenma asked without much pause.
"Well..." he's the one who thought of it, but... Kuroo lightly shook his head and restarted, "Why would you think that?"
Kenma scribbled something in his notebook, "Because he texted me and said, 'I just had coffee with your new roommate.'" Kuroo rolled his eyes, but Kenma continued, "At first I was confused, but then he sent another text saying 'he was kind of a cocky dick'." Kenma turned around, eyes on Kuroo's face again, "So I figured he meant you."
That damn Oika-- wait. "Hey, excuse me!" Kuroo said, putting his hand to his chest, "what's that supposed to mean?"
Kenma shrugged and turned back around, "That I know Tooru and I know you, I guess."
Kuroo's lips moved into a flat line, "Thanks buddy."
"Sure," Kenma responded calmly.
Kuroo shook his head. It was the nonchalance in which he wielded his jabs that made Kenma so especially sadistic. Kuroo moved to cross his arms back over his chest, "When would you want to move? I can extend my lease by the week as needed."
"As soon as possible," Kenma answered without looking up.
Kuroo tilted his head.
Kanji groaned, "Oh God." There was rustling, and then the sound of retching behind them. Kuroo scrunched his nose.
Kenma moved his gaze up to Kuroo. "As soon as possible," he repeated.
"I'm going to go take a shower..." Kanji grumbled, moving to leave.
Kuroo turned around, incredulousness all over his face, "What the fuck man? You're going to puke on the carpet and just walk away? You're like a big ugly cat."
Kanji shrunk down at Kuroo's words.
"If I thought hairball medication would have helped this situation I would have started hiding it in his food ages ago," Kenma said to his desk.
Kuroo sighed. "Are there any places you have in mind?" he asked Kenma as he ignored the pathetic whimpers of Kanji behind him.
"You wanted the complex two blocks from the park didn't you?" Kenma asked.
Kuroo paused, "Well... how did you..."
"That's where you were looking before you found a room with Yaku and Kai right? You said the rent was pretty reasonable since it was further from campus."
Kuroo was staring at the top of Kenma's head. He started batting at the strands hanging above his neck. "Are you sure?"
"I'm not really worried about the distance," Kenma answered him without looking up.
"But you haven't looked at it yet..."
"Time is of the essence isn't it?" Kenma responded, turning his gaze to look at him. His gold eyes were clear and sharp, "And I trust you."
Kuroo paused with a strand of Kenma's hair pinched between his fingers. "Okay," he said. He twirled the strand around his finger, "I'll go talk to the property managers tomorrow and see what we can do with such short notice."
Kuroo's phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out. A text from Tsukishima.
>> My new roommate has started tutoring with a grad student every weeknight.
Kuroo's lips slid up the right side of his face into a grin. He texted back,
>> Is that an invitation?
The response was succinct, like Tsukishima,
>> A statement.
Kanji was groaning behind them again. "Uhg, I think I'm gonna be sick..." Kenma's fingers twitched around his pen.
Kuroo put his hand on Kenma's shoulder, "How about we go to the library?"
Kenma gave a small sigh, "Okay."
Kuroo's phone vibrated again,
>> Will you be over tonight?
Kenma gathered up his things and Kuroo ushered him toward the door. As they stepped into the hallway Kenma stopped almost abruptly and Kuroo halted behind him, Kenma's shoulders pressed against his chest. Kenma glanced up and behind him to look at Kuroo, "Are you going to stay and study?"
Kuroo blinked. "Sure," he answered. "I have some things I can get done."
Kenma returned his gaze in front of him and started walking again.
Kuroo typed into his phone,
>> Fine with me.
Kuroo pocketed the phone. The minute he had withdrawn his hand it started ringing.
"Good God," he mumbled, digging into his gym shorts again. Kenma was silently eyeing him out the side of his eyes.
"What?" he answered as they plodded down the stairs.
"Aw, is that any way to treat your best friend?"
"Seems to be," Kuroo answered without hesitation.
Oikawa's voice was playful, "What are you guys up to?"
"What, did the boy-toy you had lined up for tonight flake on you?"
Kenma glanced up at Kuroo as Kuroo pushed open the doors to the building, holding it open for Kenma. "Tooru?" Kenma asked. Kuroo nodded.
Oikawa cleared his throat, "That is neither here nor there." Kuroo rolled his eyes. "But I'm free tonight, so what are you doing?"
"We're heading to the library right now," Kuroo informed him.
"Ooh, I can meet you there."
Kuroo clicked his tongue and sighed, exasperated, "Oikawa, don't come to the library. If you show up then all those girls will flock to you."
Oikawa gasped, "That's fine isn't it? They're always sweet and respectful."
"It'll be harder for Kenma to concentrate," Kuroo argued.
"Hm," Oikawa considered for a moment. Then, "I'll wear a hat and sunglasses, they won't even know."
"Oh great," Kuroo responded, "Instead of being stalked by girls you'll be stalked by campus security."
"Kuroo," Oikawa whined, dragging out the last syllable of Kuroo's name an extra beat.
"It's fine," Kenma said from below Kuroo's field of vision.
Kuroo glanced down at Kenma before bringing his attention back to Oikawa, "Fine, but bring me dinner."
"You take advantage of me," Oikawa pouted into the phone.
"And you take advantage of me," Kuroo said with a smile, "but we love each other, and thus the perfect friendship was born."
"We're almost there now."
"I'll probably be there in 30 minutes or so," Oikawa responded.
"Alright, see you then."
Kuroo hung up the phone, slipped it back in his pocket, and pledged not to look at it even if it rang.
Once at the library Kuroo sifted through Kenma's discarded notebook because he couldn't bring himself to go over the flashcards he had saved on his phone. Oikawa showed up in the relative timeframe he had set with a bag of takeout.
Kuroo held out his hands excitedly.
"Good to see you too," Oikawa said, setting a foam container in front of him with attitude.
Kenma glanced up as Oikawa set food in front of him, "Oh, thanks Tooru."
Oikawa ruffled his hair.
"Mm, yakisoba. You read my mind," Kuroo said, breaking apart his chopsticks.
"I do what I can."
Kuroo slurped some into his mouth and immediately splattered grease on his face.
"Lord Kuroo, what kind of savage are you?" Oikawa asked, throwing a napkin at him.
It hit Kuroo in the face and Kuroo caught it there, wiping at his mouth, "Thank you."
They ate for awhile, Oikawa chatting and going on about his classes and his mom and those god-awful movies he loves.
Kuroo was just starting to pick his container clean when Oikawa leaned back in his chair, "So how's that beanpole? Have you seen him lately?"
"You mean Tsukishima?" Kuroo asked, setting his utensils aside.
Kuroo looked up at Oikawa, but Oikawa's eyes were on Kenma. "Fine, I guess," Kuroo answered.
"I wasn't sure if you two were still seeing each other," Oikawa tipped onto the back two legs of his chair, "or whatever the kids call it these days."
Kenma blinked up at him before returning to his work.
Kuroo shrugged, lips tugging at a smirk, "I don't call it anything really."
"Oh?" Oikawa questioned. "You two have been--"
"Tooru, could you pass me a napkin?" Kenma interrupted. Oikawa was staring holes through Kenma's head as he handed him one. Oikawa was strange today. Stranger, rather.
"Anyway," Oikawa continued, dragging his eyes away with some effort, "you two have been exclusive for a bit now haven't you?"
What was the weird feeling Kuroo was getting? Kuroo shifted in his seat, "I wouldn't say that."
Oikawa blinked, tilting his head, "Have you been with someone else?"
Kenma's pen stopped moving on his paper.
"No..." Kuroo answered, suspiciously narrowing his eyes at Oikawa.
"But you and the giant--"
Oikawa fluttered his hands, eyes moving away from his face, "Okay."
Kenma hadn't resumed writing, and his eyes were fluttering closed. "Kenma, you alright?" Kuroo asked.
Kenma nodded, but set down his pen. "I'm really tired," he said, still not opening his eyes.
"Aww, the food made him sleepy," Oikawa cooed. "He's so cute, our little Ken-chan."
Kuroo shook his head, "Don't call him that. Our moms call him that," but Kuroo was smiling. "Kenma, do you want to go home?"
Kenma blinked, mouth pulled down with drowsiness, "It smells like vomit."
Oikawa made a horrified face.
Kuroo laughed, "You can stay with me if you can handle Lev."
Kenma's voice was low and soft, "Lev is better than vomit."
"Am I ever going to understand this?" Oikawa asked.
"Okay," Kuroo said, pushing his seat back with his knees. He tapped Kenma's hand, "Let's go."
"I guess I'll be heading back too," Oikawa said as they moved to leave the building. "Good luck with the Russian."
"Thanks," Kuroo said as they turned to walk in different directions. Kenma was quiet and Kuroo was too, so the short walk was a relaxing one. When they got back to Kuroo's apartment Yaku was passed out in his room and Lev was gone. They settled on the couch for a bit, Kuroo sliding across the cushions to slowly take up all the space. Kenma didn't even comment on it, he just moved to lay down, which he did on top of Kuroo since there wasn't much space for side by side.
He laid his head on Kuroo's chest and curled his hand into his shirt, legs draped over his as his breath started coming slow and easy.
Kuroo was mindlessly watching TV with one arm behind his neck to prop up his head when Lev came home. When he saw them his eyes grew wide and bright, mouth opening to speak.
Kuroo brought his finger to his mouth with a knowing smile.
Lev blinked, cocking his head to the side to gaze at Kenma. "Ooh," he whispered. Then he smiled, nice and broad, "He looks like a kitten."
Kuroo smirked and Lev straightened his back and moved into the kitchen. As much as Kuroo didn't want to rouse Kenma, he also didn't want to take up the couch if Lev wanted it.
Kuroo shifted, lightly tapping at Kenma's shoulder. Kenma's hand tightened in his shirt, but other than that he didn't respond.
Kuroo sighed, then wrapped his arms tight around Kenma before moving into a sitting position. Then he stood, still supporting Kenma's weight, and carried him to his room.
He set Kenma down on the bed while he changed, and when he slid beside him Kenma stirred. He turned into Kuroo, forehead against Kuroo's neck and face in his chest.
Lev wasn't wrong. Kenma always slept like a cat, curled into a ball against whatever was warmest.
Kenma wasn't moving to grab the covers, but he still looked a little cold so Kuroo wrapped his arms around him and sighed after inhaling the scent of his hair.
"Oikawa," Kuroo said into the phone.
"Mm. Hmm?" was his answer. He was definitely still sprawled out in bed.
Kenma had an early morning lecture, and had showered and left awhile ago. "Can you come with me to the property management office?"
There was a pause, followed by some rustling. "What? Property…" Kuroo waited for the neurons to start firing in Oikawa's brain. Then there was a breath, like Oikawa finally had a bearing on where he was, and he said, "Oh. Right. Why?"
Kuroo knew how to get his way, "I need to use your good looks."
Kuroo could practically see Oikawa move the hair out of his face as he smiled, "Ah, my beauty does have its advantages."
"Can you be ready in under an hour?"
"I can I guess… but Kuroo…" Oikawa sounded hesitant.
"I know that I'm… well," he chuckled, "me—"
Kuroo was silently shaking his head with pursed lips.
"But are you unaware that you're attractive? I'm sure you could make eyes at whoever you need to make eyes at."
"Eh? Thanks I guess. But one of those girls that follows you around works for the property managers. I figure if you bat your pretty eyelashes at her she might be more likely to let me move in immediately."
"Ah, okay. It's not like I mind." Kuroo could hear the sheets move as Oikawa sat up, "But if you're ever feeling down on yourself just remember that Oikawa Tooru wouldn't have given you the time of day if you weren't gorgeous."
"Gee thanks Oikawa."
"Get your ass out of bed."
Using Oikawa had worked. They took a look at Kuroo's credit and past property history and told him he could move into an empty unit starting this weekend, giggling all the while. The girl at the front desk had slipped Oikawa a business card with her number scribbled on the back, and Oikawa had taken it gratefully with a bright smile and warm voice.
Kuroo called Kenma and left him a message to meet them after the gym. He had received a text an hour later with a simple, "Okay."
Kuroo flapped his over-large gym shirt in front of himself to flush cool air over his sweat tinged body.
"Aaaah, what a workout," Oikawa sighed, taking a long sip of water from his bottle.
Kuroo's eyes were scanning in front of him when he finally caught sight of Kenma. "Oi Kenma," he called, raising his arm slightly. Kenma looked up, then back down at his phone as he took a few strides toward them to close the distance. "I wanted to talk to you about when we're gonna move."
"Mm," Kenma said, eyes fixed on his phone.
Kuroo thrust his thumb to point in the direction of Oikawa, "Using the pretty boy worked. They're willing to let us move in whenever we want." Oikawa winked.
"Mm," Kenma repeated.
Kuroo frowned. "What day is best?"
There was a silence as Kenma hurriedly typed something, "Doesn't really matter."
Kuroo redirected his pointing thumb at Kenma. "Is he listening to me?" he asked Oikawa.
"He's not listening to you," Oikawa affirmed.
"Hold on Kuroo, I'm texting one of my group mates," there was a pause as Kenma frowned down at the screen, "I don't understand how they got into such an advanced level design class with so little knowledge."
Kuroo blinked down at him.
"Actually, I think I need to," Kenma started to take a step back and away from Kuroo. Kuroo fully lifted his shirt and swooped it down over Kenma's head, trapping him.
"I want to talk to you so I can get all my stuff moved," Kuroo rumbled.
Kenma shifted under the shirt, mildly flailing for a moment, and then went still.
"Kurooooo" Oikawa whined, "Don't endanger the life of one of my best friends! Your gym stench will kill him!"
Kenma moved again, and Kuroo could feel his shoulder blades shifting against his ribs. Then he slurped his arms and hands up into the shirt. Kuroo saw the screen of his phone light up under the fabric, and then heard Kenma start typing.
"Just let me finish teaching my classmate the whole of my last two years of study in one text message."
"Tell him to get wrecked," Kuroo said, "he's not your problem."
"I have to work with his code," Kenma explained calmly, albeit muffled under cotton, "he is my problem."
The top of Kenma's head was visible through the neck hole of Kuroo's t-shirt. "Do you plan on growing your hair out brown again?" Kuroo asked idly before resting his chin on the top of Kenma's head.
He felt Kenma shrug against him, "Not really."
"You know I have a really sparse schedule the next two weeks," Oikawa said, flipping his phone closed and depositing it in the pocket of his gym shorts. "I can help you guys move."
Kuroo moved his eyes over without pulling his chin away from Kenma's head, "Aah, that'd be helpful."
He felt Kenma stop typing and drop his arms down, hands now visible below the hem of Kuroo's shirt.
Kuroo pulled his shirt up over Kenma's head, watching as his hair spun upward before falling back down disheveled over his face. Kuroo flicked his hand through Kenma's locks, pushing them away from his forehead. "When's best for you Kenma?" Kuroo asked. "I know you're busy."
Kenma patted unthinking at his hair and flicked a strand out of his eyes. "Sooner the better," he said, voice still level. "Your lease is up this weekend right? Let's just do it then."
"Eh, isn't that cutting it close as far as packing?" Oikawa asked, tilting his head to the side.
"Not really," Kuroo and Kenma responded in unison. Kuroo continued, "We're sharing a small space with a bunch of people. I don't even have a lot of my own stuff at the apartment."
"I mostly have to move schoolwork and games," Kenma said, eyes moving along the sidewalk. "And clothes."
"Neh," Kuroo said, waving the sentence off with his hand, "who needs clothes."
Oikawa gave him a wry look, "Not everyone is content to looking and smelling like they're living out of their gym locker."
"Pfft," Kuroo scoffed, "Laundry is a pain. There are soap ratios and drying and folding, God, it's too much."
Oikawa flicked his head, bangs bobbing across his forehead, "So easily defeated. It's a simple price to pay to look put together."
Kuroo raised an eyebrow, "Don't act all high and mighty when you take your clothes back to your mom every weekend."
Oikawa's smile almost twitched out of place, "What matters is I look impeccable."
Oikawa shrugged, "But if you think that's enough time to get everything packed up, it's whatever. I'll be there to help you move it."
Kuroo nodded, "And it's not like Yaku and Lev are going to throw my stuff in the street if it's not gone in a few days. It's really just a matter of having somewhere else. Get the bed and the TV in the new place and I'll be fine for a week."
Oikawa shook his head, "I can't decide if you're Spartan or just lazy."
"Yes," Kuroo answered. "And with that decided, I have somewhere to be."
Kenma glanced up at him, then brought his eyes back to his phone, "Alright, I'll see you later."
Oikawa blinked down at Kenma, "Kenma, I want ice cream."
Kenma's expression was flat, "O... kay..."
"Come with me," he said, leaning over slightly. Oikawa had the habit of trying to look under Kenma's hair and the tilt of his chin to stare more directly at his face. Kenma usually hated that, but he had learned to tolerate it with Oikawa.
Oikawa beamed, "I'll buy you something."
"I don't need--"
"We'll see you later Kuroo," Oikawa called, waving at him as they turned to walk in the opposite direction.
Kuroo nodded, heel pivoting on the pavement to take him toward a set of apartments a few blocks from there.
"Hey," Kuroo greeted casually once the door opened.
Tsukishima's eyes regarded him without expression, "Hey," and then he swung the door fully open.
Kuroo climbed the stairs just beyond the entryway, following Tsukishima's slender shoulders.
Tsukishima didn't bother with pretenses. He walked straight to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.
"Being careful are we?" Kuroo asked with an upward twitch of his eyebrow.
Tsukishima was wiping off his glasses, standing at the foot of his bed, "No reason not to be."
Kuroo walked up to him as he slid his glasses back over his eyes. He stopped when their noses were almost touching.
"So, every weeknight huh?"
Tsukishima regarded him entirely level despite the very light dust of pink over his cheekbones, "Yes."
Kuroo slid his hand up Tsukishima's side without taking his eyes off him, palm grazing over skin as he pushed up his shirt, "Maybe your roommate likes older men."
Tsukishima's eye twitched as he pulled his face into practiced composure, "Maybe. It's none of my business."
His voice was so low and airy, calm and smooth. Kuroo's lips were pulling into an even steeper grin, "When does he usually get home?"
Tsukishima cocked his head slightly, chin tilting up with his voice, "Are you going to chat about my roommate all day or are you going to fuck me?"
Kuroo shoved at Tsukishima's shoulder, the edge of the bed forcing his knees to buckle. He fell on the bed and Kuroo dropped down on top of him, lips split in a smirk. "Tsu. Ki," he enunciated, the tip of his tongue playing with each syllable. He dropped down closer to his face and his voice dipped into a purr, "When will your roommate be home?"
Tsukishima broke eye contact, head tilting away from Kuroo, "Hours," he answered, "he's always really late."
Kuroo smiled, knotting his fist in Tsukishima's hair and yanking it to the side, "Good," and then he bit at Tsukishima's ear. Tsukishima clicked his tongue, but Kuroo knew the difference by now, knew the condescending "tch" he used in conversation versus the one he used to cover the sound of a gasp at the back of his throat. Kuroo's hand flicked open the button of Tsukishima's jeans and he moved to slide downward, "I'll take my time with you then."
Kuroo collapsed face first on the couch, "Uuuuhg," he groaned against the cushion.
"Phew, it sure was hot today. Moving all that furniture was a pain," Oikawa flopped down on top of Kuroo's legs and Kuroo grunted.
"Thanks for helping with all the heavy stuff Tooru," Kenma said.
Kuroo tilted his head to peer over the cushion with one eye. "Oi, Kenma," he said, voice muffled against the cushion, "What are you doing?"
Kenma was settling down on his knees, hands moving to open a box. "Unpacking," he answered simply.
Kuroo rolled, violently yanking his legs out from under Oikawa. Oikawa squawked and fell over on the couch. "No you're not," Kuroo said, moving to stand.
Kenma blinked up at Kuroo, gold eyes dark in the limited light of their new apartment. They had gotten all the big stuff in place; Beds, dressers, TV, couch, coffee table, and Kenma's desk. The rest of their stuff was packed away, some of it in old dusty boxes that had come directly from their parent's.
"It's been a long day. Let's relax."
Kenma looked down at the box, "But--"
"No 'buts'," Kuroo said. "I know where we packed away the tea and where the cups are. If I make you a cup will you sit down with us?"
Kenma was biting the inside of his cheek.
Kuroo grinned, "I know you're tired."
Kenma stood, "Not really... but if it's that important to you, it's fine I guess."
Oikawa's head tipped backward over the couch so he was looking at them upside down, "Yay, Kenma," he reached out with his hands, "sit with me."
Kenma didn't make contact with his hands, but he did join him on the couch.
"What can we watch?" Oikawa was asking, voice light and bubbling like he wasn't tired at all.
"I set up the Playstation, so just turn on Netflix."
"Okay~" Oikawa sang as Kuroo walked toward the kitchen. He knew how much Kenma liked his tea at night so he had made sure to clearly mark the box. He unpacked three mismatched glasses and began boiling water. He could hear Oikawa flipping through the shows and movies, happily commenting on each one. Every now and then there was a small murmur from Kenma, but it was too low to hear what he was saying.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. It was from Tsukishima again,
>> There's a good local band playing at one of the bars on campus tomorrow night. Wanna go?
Kuroo typed his answer easily,
>> Sure thing.
They didn't go out much. That wasn't really how their relationship worked. But they both appreciated music-- it was how they met, actually-- so this could be nice.
Kuroo pocketed his phone and walked back out to the living room, "I come bearing herb water." He set the cups down in front of them.
Kenma reached for his right away, cradling it in his hands, "Thank you," he responded, inhaling the steam.
Kuroo sat down between them, legs and arms spread out wide and lazily.
"What is it?" Oikawa asked, grabbing his cup.
Kuroo shrugged, "I don't know, some lemon crap."
"Sounds delicious," Oikawa responded dryly.
Kuroo pinched his arm and he squeaked.
"Tooru, just put that on," Kenma directed before taking a tentative sip of his tea.
Oikawa raised his eyebrows, "You sure? You've seen it before."
Kenma nodded once, "It's fine, I'm kind of t--" his eyes slid to the side, scornfully regarding Kuroo's cocky grin before continuing, "kind of tired," he finally went on, "so I don't want to concentrate on something new."
Oikawa started up the movie, and Kuroo watched it passively. More than anything he was thinking about their new place and everything that was left to unpack. Rent would be higher split between just the two of them, but it would be infinitely more peaceful. Kuroo was looking forward to it.
Kenma curled his legs up on the couch, and after fifteen minutes or so his eyes started to flutter closed, head bobbing as he attempted to keep himself awake.
Kuroo lightly touched his shoulder, "Hey."
Kenma straightened, tilting his gaze in Kuroo's direction.
"Why don't you go to bed?"
Kenma nodded, moving to stand up. Then he spoke, voice low and whispery with sleep, "Kuroo. I have a group meeting in the morning, but I want to unpack most of this tomorrow... can you work on it with me tomorrow night?"
Kuroo nodded, "Yeah sure."
Kenma nodded, said a tiny sleepy, "Thank you", and then shuffled off toward the bathroom.
Kuroo slid his hand in his pocket, withdrawing his phone and bringing up his text thread with Tsukishima.
>> I'm actually going to be busy tomorrow night. Moving into a new apartment and all. Rain check?
Tsukishima responded a few minutes later,
Oikawa was peering over Kuroo's hand at the phone screen as he typed. Oikawa was excessively nosy and he was very bad at hiding it. Not that Kuroo gave a shit; he didn't bother to hide much from anyone, let alone Oikawa and Kenma.
Oikawa was blinking at the phone as Kuroo set it on the table in front of them and grabbed the remote.
"Let's watch something else, shall we?" Kuroo asked rhetorically, backing out of the movie, "or I'll fall asleep too."
Oikawa didn't say anything, he just kept peering at him.
Kuroo was lazily flipping through the options as Oikawa readjusted on the couch, bringing his feet onto the cushion so he was sitting on them. Kuroo could see him scanning his hands, his face. Finally Oikawa sighed, relaxing into position. "So," he started, bringing his eyes back to Kuroo's profile, "when are you going to tell Kenma?"
Kuroo only slightly adjusted his gaze to glance at Oikawa before returning it to the screen, "Tell Kenma what?"
Oikawa blinked, "That you're in love with him."
The sentence had to replay in Kuroo's mind before he snapped his head to the side, rearing back in surprise, "What?" he asked, voice rising incredulous.
Oikawa was staring at him, expression entirely serious. "You're in love with Kenma," he repeated.
Kuroo narrowed his eyes, and then his head tipped back and he laughed, he laughed from deep in his chest in heavy breaths, "Oh Oikawa, you're funny tonight."
Oikawa tilted his head, lip pulling up and nose scrunching into a sort of sneer that looked like Kuroo had just asked him bathe in dirt or lick a cactus or have sex with a woman.
"What is with that face?"
"I'm just trying to decide if you're stupid or if you think I'm stupid."
Kuroo held out his hands, "Both, but neither are related to this conversation."
Oikawa rolled his eyes, "Listen, Kuroo. You must be in serious denial or something."
"Why would I--"
"What did you masturbate to last?"
Kuroo almost choked on his own spit, "Oikawa what the fuck?"
"I'm serious!" Oikawa said, voice high and expression, well, serious, "what did you think about last time you jacked off?"
"Aw Oikawa," Kuroo said, smirk pulling wide across his face, "you want to give it another go? It's been years but we could roll around again for old time's sake."
Oikawa's face pinched like he was thinking about screaming or punching Kuroo in the face or both, "Shut up and answer my question you damned pervert." Oikawa turned, facing Kuroo squarely on the couch, "Tell me what you thought about."
Kuroo sighed, head falling back on the couch. When was it-- just kidding, it was this morning. Kuroo blinked at the ceiling. What had he thought about? Oh, riiight. Kuroo was grinning, "It doesn't matter, it's just normal shit. Something every gay man thinks about. No, every man. In general."
"A blowjob," Oikawa deducted.
"From who?" Oikawa asked, eyebrows raised, body leaning in closer.
Kuroo leaned away from him.
"Did said person happen to have dark roots and gold hair? Tiny mouth? Big gold cat eyes?"
Kuroo waved his hand, "Come on Oikawa, that's normal too."
Oikawa frowned, "What's normal?"
"The whole... forbidden fruit thing. The 'I-can't-touch-it-so-I-want-to thing'."
"Okay," Oikawa said, straightening his back again, "you're telling me you thought about Kenma sucking your dick this morning--"
"What makes you think it was this morning?"
"Well then shut up."
Kuroo crossed his arms over his chest.
Oikawa continued, "You're telling me you got off to the thought of Kenma sucking your dick this morning and there was nothing to it."
"There's not!" Kuroo defended, uncrossing his arms. "He's my best friend, and he's really cute, and there's just... that little extra sense of naughtiness when I think about him, so that's why. Nothing more, nothing less."
"You are so full of shit."
"Oikawa, why are you so hung up on this?"
"Fine. When's the last time you didn't think about Kenma. During... you know."
"Oh, you're bashful now."
"Answer the fucking question."
Kuroo groaned, sighing as he sifted through his memories. "Jeeze man, I don't know."
Oikawa was giving him a dubious look.
Kuroo was chuckling, "Oikawa, where is this coming from all of a sudden?"
"It's not sudden," Oikawa answered quickly and easily, "it's the exact opposite of sudden. It's been throughout our entire friendship."
Kuroo rolled his eyes.
"Okay, fine. But let me ask you this," Oikawa was back to leaning toward him, eyebrows forever climbing higher. Kuroo sighed, but he would humor him. Oikawa went on, and his lips were almost smiling. It was obvious he thought he was onto something, "You're pretty touchy feely with Kenma, right?" Kuroo blinked at Oikawa without verbal acknowledgement. "I mean, Kenma doesn't even like to be touched. Like when we first met and I tried to pat him on the shoulder he dipped down and shrunk away from me like a damned cat."
"Get to the point."
"Okay," Oikawa said, holding his hands out in front of him, "imagine all of the things you do-- the grasping of arms, the sitting on laps, sleeping together, mussing with his hair, all that--" Oikawa's eyes grew a little wide, "and now imagine someone else doing the same things to him."
Kuroo stared at Oikawa.
"And he likes it," Oikawa said, nodding, "Kenma likes this other person touching him."
Kuroo was biting at the side of his tongue. He thought about it. The way he pulled Kenma onto his lap and how Kenma unconsciously snuggled against him, all the random little interactions and touches that had slowly built since they were small. He imagined someone else in his place.
He felt his face growing hot.
Kuroo was starting to get distinctly uncomfortable. Oikawa was staring at him, watching his every breath and blink like it would show him the secrets of the universe. His chest... did his chest feel a little tight?
And then Kuroo imagined Kenma initiating the touches. Kenma leaning into someone else, grabbing at someone else's shirt. He imagined someone grabbing Kenma's hand and Kenma smiling a small smile.
Kuroo felt his heart clench in his chest. He should be happy if Kenma is happy. But he wasn't. There was some hypothetical man touching Kenma and Kuroo wasn't happy for them at all. Kuroo was angry.
Oikawa swallowed, "Imagine them kissing."
Heat flashed across Kuroo's face and it felt like a stake was driven through his heart. He felt his mouth go dry. Oikawa was silent.
Kuroo felt his hand shaking. "Oh my God," he said, eyes growing wide. He slowly turned to fully face Oikawa, "I'm in love with Kenma."
Oikawa brought his tea to his mouth. "Yeah," he said, smiling through the steam rising in front of his face, "I know."
Kuroo dropped his gaze to the table, "Holy fucking shit."
"And I didn't even have to bring up how neither of you have ever been in a serious relationship. Has Kenma... has he even dated, really? I know he went out a couple of times with a few people but--"
"Oikawa," Kuroo said, turning his attention over to Oikawa with wide eyes, "What do I do?"
Oikawa blinked at him, "Uhm... what?"
Kuroo was the one leaning in this time, "What the fuck do I do?"
"What? Kuroo, I don't know. It's not like this is a new thing--"
"It absolutely is a new thing," Kuroo corrected him.
Oikawa shook his head, "I'm pretty sure you loved him your whole life, Kuroo."
Kuroo waved his hands in front of him, "That doesn't matter. I didn't realize it until just now."
"Which I will never let you live down, by the way, you big idiot."
Kuroo put his head in his hands, "Oh my God, I'm in love with my best friend."
Oikawa took another sip of his tea, "Yep, good luck with that."
"You rat bastard."
Kuroo groaned, "I can't believe this."
"Well hey," Oikawa said with a peppy shrug of his shoulders, "you already got him to move in with you."
Kuroo fell over on the couch and groaned even louder against his palms.
Oikawa pat his hip, "There there."
"Go to Hell."
"I'm taking you with me."