Archive of Our Own ^beta

Kuroo had dragged him along on a "double date" with Bokuto and Akaashi, although it could more accurately be described as a solo date with unwilling witnesses. Kenma wasn't sure why Kuroo felt the need to have witnesses there, but here they were, eating their food and trying to pretend that their best friends weren't loudly making out in front of them.

He had been dragged along on the promise of Kuroo going to a midnight release for a new game in his stead. Kenma had agreed because he really wanted that game, but also really hated the loud, crowded affairs that midnight releases were. So, this had seemed like a good answer. It had seemed that way, but now... he was having second thoughts.

Akaashi let out a soft sigh beside him and shook his head, glancing over at Kenma with a grimace. Kenma rolled his eyes and smiled softly at him in response.

Akaashi was nice. Kenma liked having him around, especially as an ally against their lovestruck best friends. He had been skeptical at first, when Kuroo suggested the four of them hang out: Kenma liked hanging out with Kuroo, but other people... he had less luck with. Very few people really got Kenma, and the effort of dealing with people who didn't was exhausting. So much energy that Kenma couldn't match; so many expectations that Kenma couldn't meet.

But Akaashi was quiet and relaxed, with the same biting sarcasm that Kenma had. They made a good set: Bokuto and Kuroo were loud and energetic and spurred each other onto new heights of obnoxiousness, while Akaashi and Kenma could rely on the other for some quiet commiseration. It did feel a bit like a manzai sketch sometimes, but it worked well. It was familiar, and Kenma found himself relaxing into the rhythm of the group quickly.

It did have its downsides, though, Kenma thought miserably as he watched his childhood friend get a new hickey.

"Okay, I've had enough," Akaashi said, crumpling up a napkin and dropping it onto his tray. "C'mon, let's leave them behind before they cause a scene."

"Haven't they already?" Kenma muttered, but followed, scooting out of the booth behind Akaashi.

Despite his claim of leaving them behind, Akaashi waited outside the restaurant for the couple, and Kenma waited with him. Their breaths were white puffs in the January air, and Kenma wasted no time in pulling on his scarf and mittens, frowning at the cold.

"People do stupid stuff when they're in love, eh?" Akaashi sighed, slipping his hands into his pockets to ward off the cold.

Kenma shrugged into his scarf piled up thick on his shoulders. "I wouldn't know."

"Ah. Right. Sorry."

He shrugged again. "It's okay."

That was another nice thing about Akaashi: he was incredibly relaxed about Kenma's lack of sexual or romantic attraction. When Kenma had told other people in the past about the fact that he had never experienced crushes or gotten turned on or whatever, they had brushed him off as a stupid kid who was just a late bloomer. When he had tentatively mentioned it to Akaashi, he hadn't suggested that perhaps Kenma was actually gay, or that he just hadn't met the right person. He had simply asked for clarification to make sure he understood, and then nodded and took it in stride. He even texted Kenma later that night to say that he looked it up on the internet and that other asexual aromantic people like Kenma were out there and had communities and organizations. Not even Kuroo had been that accepting at first.

As if summoned by the thought, Kuroo burst out of the restaurant doors, draped over Bokuto. Both of them were pink-faced and looking a bit punchdrunk and very pleased with themselves. Kenma noted that their hands were stuck in each other's back pockets, and that they had hobbled through the door of the restaurant like that. Incredible.

"Let's go to karaoke!" Bokuto yelled cheerfully, grinning at the two of them.

Kenma winced a little at the shout, and frowned into his scarf. The last thing these two rowdy idiots needed was a microphone.

"A microphone is the last thing you two loud idiots need," Akaashi said in a deadpan tone, frowning deeply at Bokuto. Kenma glanced up at him, startled a little at the apparent echo of his thoughts. Akaashi didn't seem to notice his surprise: he was glaring at Bokuto, who was sticking his tongue out at him childishly.

"Okay, well, we'll just go to karaoke then, Akaashi," he retorted, "And you can go home."

"Sounds good to me," he said crisply.

"Yeah, I'm going, too," Kenma said. "I don't wanna go to karaoke."

Kuroo looked over at Kenma; he had been grinning at Bokuto before he spoke. "You are?" he asked, surprised for some reason. "Then, I'll go with you, so you get home safe."

Kenma frowned. Kuroo's concern and protectiveness over him was sometimes charming. It was also sometimes infantilizing. "That's okay," he said firmly. "I'll just go with Akaashi. Go sing."

"You sure?"

Kenma noted Kuroo's hand was still stuck in Bokuto's back pocket. It was clear where he wanted to be at that moment. "Yeah, I'm sure."

With a wave and a yelled demand to text him when he got home safe, Kuroo and Bokuto walked off, still draped all over each other, towards the karaoke parlour. Akaashi and Kenma turned the other way, to head towards the train station.

"He really cares about you a lot, huh?" Akaashi said, as they walked through the city streets. "Kuroo, I mean."

He nodded. "Yeah. Childhood friends."

He hummed softly. "That's nice though, to have someone who cares about you like that."

It was, Kenma admitted silently to himself. Most people didn't see that: they saw Kuroo as a overbearing mothering nuisance, just like they saw Kenma as a silent incomprehensible stick-in-the-mud. He wondered absently why he kept expecting Akaashi to be like other people.

They walked in relative silence, except for a few short sentences exchanged here and there. It was a comfortable silence, one they both consented to. The bustling city felt almost quiet with only the scuff of their shoes and the swishing of their jackets as they walked punctuating the still winter air.

That quietness came to an end soon, though, when they reached the train station. Kenma realized with cold horror that it was 6pm on a Friday night. Exhausted office workers were trying to get home, and rowdy students and young adults were trying to go out. The train platform was absolutely packed, and noisy, and terrifying.

Akaashi glanced over at him as the already packed train pulled into the station. "Want to wait for the next one?" he offered quietly. Kenma looked back at him, and noticed the concern written across his face. Akaashi was worried about Kenma, not himself.

He shook his head and turned to look back at the train. He knew from prior experience that this horribleness would last another hour or two at least. The sooner they got it over with, the better.

As they shuffled towards the train doors with the other people, Akaashi leading the way, Kenma reached out and grabbed Akaashi's coat sleeve, so they wouldn't get separated. He looked down in surprise at the sudden movement, but then glanced over his shoulder at Kenma and nodded in understanding. Kenma nodded back, and held on tight as they squeezed into the train car.

They ended up pressed against the doors that they entered through, Kenma's back pressed to the cold glass window. It was a good position to be in: Kenma lived two stations away, and the side the doors opened on alternated between stations. Akaashi was in front of him, one arm braced against the train door and another gripping the support bar beside Kenma. Essentially, he was fencing Kenma in, protecting him from the other unfamiliar people. He wasn't sure if he did it intentionally, but was grateful for it anyways.

Their torsos brushed against each other as the train accelerated and swayed along its track. Kenma was about 20 centimetres shorter than Akaashi, and his eye level was at Akaashi's throat. Warm puffs of breath ghosted across the top of his forehead, making his bangs flutter slightly.

With Akaashi fencing him in like this, the warm familiar body the only one he had to contend with, the crowded train was a lot less stressful. Akaashi wouldn't jab him with sharp elbows, or nudge him in the face with a backpack accidentally. If Kenma lost his balance and fell forward, Akaashi would catch him without complaint. It was almost like it was in the city before they got on the train, walking together in comfortable silence: with Akaashi, there was a temporary peace and serenity in the chaos.

Kenma found himself glancing up at Akaashi through his eyelashes surreptitiously as they pulled away from the next station they stopped at. His gaze was directed out the window, over the top of Kenma's head. His lips were drawn tight together, in apparent discomfort; he occasionally was jostled forwards towards Kenma from the throng of people behind him, and looked stressed out about it. He sent another silent thank you towards Akaashi for taking the brunt of the crowd. Akaashi's tongue, pink and soft, darted out to wet his lips, red and chapped from the winter winds. Kenma found his eyes following its path, entranced.

The angle of the puffs of breath on his forehead changed, and Kenma realized with a start that Akaashi was looking down at him curiously. A strange, horrible jolt went through Kenma's stomach as their eyes met. "You okay?" he asked, with that same quiet softness in his voice that he had when he asked if he wanted to wait for the next train.

Kenma didn't know if he was okay. He suddenly felt very warm, which was strange because the train had emptied out considerably at the last station, and there should theoretically be more airflow in the train car. There was also that sick twisting feeling in his gut. Maybe he had food poisoning? That hamburger had looked alright, but who knew? What else could it be?

He forced himself to nod. "Just... feeling a bit sick," he muttered. His voice sounded strange and hoarse to his own ears. That wasn't a good sign. Definitely sick.

The concern etched across Akaashi's features deepened, as did the violent, strange churning in Kenma's gut. "Want me to walk you home?" he offered, as they pulled into Kenma's home train station.

He shook his head, looking away from Akaashi's face. He wasn't sure why, but looking at him seemed to make the feeling in his gut multiply. Maybe it was motion sickness? "No, that's okay, I'll be fine," he said quickly. And, before Akaashi could retort, the doors slid open behind him and Kenma stepped quickly off the train without so much as a goodbye and walked away rapidly, not looking back.

His heart was pounding hard, like he had just run a mile. His breath was also coming harsh and ragged. He was definitely sick. There was no reason for him to be feeling like this after standing on a train car for five minutes after a leisurely walk.

Kenma remembered Akaashi looking down at him with worry in his dark, thick-lashed eyes, and his walking pace quickened. He had to get home, where things were safe and made sense and -- oh god, what if he passed out in the street??

He somehow made it home, still breathing hard, although he thought that might have been from him almost jogging home. The house was quiet -- his parents were out at their friends' house, not due back until late. As he climbed the stairs to his bedroom, he noticed that the twisting feeling in his gut had quietened down some. He texted Kuroo that he was home, to stave off the dozens of panicked texts at 2 AM that would come if he forgot to. That quietened that weird feeling down, focusing on Kuroo and his concern over Kenma's safety.

Every time he tried to figure out what had happened on the train car, though -- and his mind kept coming back to it stubbornly, trying to solve the riddle of it -- that feeling returned with a vengeance. He groaned softly as he flopped loose-limbed onto his bed. Obviously the answer was to ignore... everything. Until he felt better at least.

Kenma was tired down to his bones, and confused, and more than a little alarmed. Too much was going on. He wanted to sleep. With a sigh, he pushed himself off his bed and padded to the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he brushed them, he stared at himself in the mirror suspiciously, mentally demanding an explanation from his mirror self. No such explanation came. He spit out the toothpaste into the sink, took a cup of water and rinsed, and then looked back at himself. His lips, he noticed, were pink and shiny from the water.

Akaashi's lips, red and shiny from his spit, flashed into his mind's eye, and the gut-wrenching, violent shuddering feeling returned. I wonder if they're soft, a voice, unbidden, wondered aloud in his stream of consciousness.

Kenma did an about-face from the bathroom mirror and stalked quickly back to his bed, attempting to leave that strange, intrusive thought behind him. What the hell was he doing, wondering about Akaashi's lips? Was he losing it?? There was no reason he should be interested in lips. They were just lips.

He climbed into his bed, the blankets still cold from being vacant all day, and burrowed down beneath the covers, willing it to warm up so he could fall asleep. The quicker he fell asleep, the quicker he could leave all this weirdness behind.

Akaashi had been so warm against him, when he nudged and pressed against him in the swaying train.

Kenma scowled at himself, and focused his attention on thinking about what would be in that game Kuroo owed him. That wouldn't lead down any weird, baffling paths. That wouldn't make him feel like he had moths beating against his stomach lining.

He fell into an uneasy sleep eventually, but upon waking up, he had a horrible, dawning realization: he was exhibiting signs of having a crush.

He wished it was just food poisoning.

His mind raced as he laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with cold horror trickling through his veins. Was he even sure it was a crush?? Maybe it was food poisoning, or allergies, or maybe he had appendicitis or something. Just because he had weird sensations in his gut when he thought about a person...

Unbidden, an image of Akaashi, looking down at him, mere inches away from his face in the train, flashed into his mind, and he squeezed his eyes shut, hot blood rushing to his face.

He took a deep, steadying breath. Okay. He had to think about this logically. He had to ask someone what it was supposed to feel like, when you had a crush. It had to be someone he trusted. He thought for a moment. Honestly, there were only three people who he trusted enough to ask: Kuroo, Shouyou, and Akaashi.

Kuroo was obviously out, he thought with a grimace. He could imagine the exclamation marks-filled text he would receive asking when the wedding was. Also, something deep in his gut told him that Kuroo would guess who the question was concerning: they had all hung out together the night before, after all. And Kuroo... he was a great friend, but he had the worst poker face when it came to romance. They would hang out as a group again, and he would be unbearable, with his giggles and his sly winks and his awkward suggestions that they pair off.

Akaashi was even more out of the question. In theory, he would be a fantastic person to talk to about this kind of stuff. He was smart, and kind, and sensitive, and... Kenma shook his head violently. Akaashi was out.

Shouyou... Kenma wasn't sure if he had romantic crushes. He knew he was asexual, but they had never really discussed anything past that... He reached over and grabbed his phone from his bedside table. It was worth a shot.

Immediately, he saw that he had two texts from Kuroo and three texts from Akaashi. He ignored those for the moment, feeling a violent flip-flopping in his gut as he saw Akaashi's name on his phone screen, and tapped out a message to Shouyou.

[From: Kozume Kenma]

[To: Hinata Shouyou]

[Subj: (none)]

[what does a crush feel like? just curious]

While he waited for the reply -- which, knowing Shouyou, would be near instantaneous -- he checked the other messages.

[From: Kuroo Tetsurou]

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[Subj: Re: home]

[ok!!! still out w bokuto lol ^-w-^; night~~]

[From: Kuroo Tetsurou]

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[Subj: DOODLYWHIP]

[!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

Kenma wrinkled up his nose at the last text. Why Kuroo insisted on referring to sex by such a silly word, he would never understand. Especially when this was the first time he had... "doodlewhipped" with his new boyfriend. He tapped out a reply with a sigh.

[From: Kozume Kenma]

[To: Kuroo Tetsurou]

[Subj: gross]

[congrats on your doodlywhip pls never talk to me abt it again]

Before he could check Akaashi's texts, his phone buzzed smartly and a message flashed onto the screen: [New Message from Hinata Shouyou]. He opened it.

[From: Hinata Shouyou]

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[Subj: Re: (none)]

[OH MAN IT'S LIKE YOU MEET THEM AND ITS LIKE PWAAAAAH! BUT IT'S ALSO LIKE GWAAAAAGH. AND THEN YOU KISS THEM AND IT'S LIKE KYOOOOOO!!! LIKE WHEN I MET KAGEYAMA I WAS LIKE BYUUUUUUUN BUT NOW IT'S LIKE PWAAAAAAH ALL THE TIME. YOU KNOW?????]

He did not know. He would never know. He forgot that Hinata expressed abstract concepts such as love and volleyball in even more abstract noises that only his boyfriend understood. He wasn't surprised, really, just disappointed.

His eyes flicked down to the phone screen again, seeing that he still had three unread text messages in his inbox. He knew without checking who they were from, of course. How could he forget? With trepidation, he opened up Akaashi's texts, dread and anticipation roiling in his stomach.

[From: Akaashi Keiji]

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[Subj: Are you okay??]

[Hey are you okay?? Please tell me you got home safe.]

[From: Akaashi Keiji]

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[Subj: Please reply!]

[Kuroo will kill me if you got hurt, just let me know you're okay.]

[From: Akaashi Keiji]

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[Subj: Asleep?]

[Good night I guess? Reply in the morning okay?]

Kenma sighed, and let his arms go limp, letting the phone drop to his chest with a thump. The sick anxiety in his gut had morphed, developed into something new and terrifying. Now it was a soft liquid warmth pooling in his gut, like golden honey dripping off a ladle. Akaashi needed to stop, for the sake of Kenma's health and sanity.

He owed it to him to at least reply. Akaashi sounded worried. He tried not to think about what that meant too much.

[From: Kozume Kenma]

[To: Akaashi Keiji]

[Subj: sorry]

[fell asleep as soon as i got home. im ok]

He set his phone down, already feeling oversocialized and exhausted, just from texting. He hadn't even gotten out of bed yet.

Neither Kuroo, Akaashi, nor Hinata could be asked for reliable advice in this matter. Ignoring it didn't seem to be doing any good: he tried that last night, and his subconscious attacked him with intrusive, weird thoughts about... well, about Akaashi.

So, there was only one place left to turn in times such as these.

A few quick Google searches and far too much time spent on Yahoo! Answers later, Kenma had come to one solid, horrible, dreadful conclusion. He did indeed have a romantic crush on one Akaashi Keiji.

It wasn't the end of the world, he reasoned with himself as he stared glumly at his laptop. He was Kenma. He wasn't like Kuroo, who giggled and blushed whenever his boyfriend texted him. He wasn't like Kuroo, who was unable to have a conversation without saying something about Bokuto. He wasn't like Kuroo, who couldn't even go get a burger without making out with his boyfriend.

No, he was Kenma. He was rational and calm and collected and definitely not a blushy idiot like his best friend was. He just thought having a crush made you like that because Kuroo was his frame of reference.

He would be fine. He would get through this with minimal embarrassment.

A soft knock sounded at his door, and he looked up. "Yeah?" he called out. His mother opened the door a foot or so. "Kenma, your friend Akaashi is here to see you?" Her voice held a question in it, and rightfully so: the only friend Kenma had ever brought home was Kuroo.

His heart started pounding a furious rhythm against his ribcage, and blood immediately rushed to his face. Well, there went his delusions of being cool and collected.

"O-okay," he stuttered out, suddenly feeling very thirsty. He should get some water on his way down to see Akaashi. His mom nodded and opened the door further, and with a cold shock Kenma saw that his visitor was standing just behind the door.

"Hey," Akaashi said, with an uneasy smile. His hand went up to rub at the back of his neck, as Kenma stared in mute shock at him standing there. Kenma's mother walked away down the hall, leaving the two of them alone, and Akaashi said, "Is it okay if I come in?"

A moot point, really, as he was already standing in the doorway of Kenma's room, but he felt a rush of gratitude and affection at the consideration nonetheless. He almost immediately cursed himself for getting happy over something so small. Not trusting himself to speak, Kenma merely nodded.

He stepped over the threshold and came to stand, still quite close to the door, in front of Kenma's desk. "Sorry, I should've texted or called or something before coming over," he said, grimacing. "I was in the area doing some errands, and I texted Kuroo to ask if he had heard from you... But he was... at Bokuto's..."

"Yeah, he texted me that," Kenma said, his throat unsticking.

Akaashi's grimace deepened. "Doodlywhip, huh?"

Kenma smiled, but it felt forced and tight on his face. Akaashi must have seen it, too, because his expression fell a little bit. "I texted you back like half an hour ago," Kenma said. "I fell asleep when I got home last night."

"I never got the text?" Akaashi said, his eyebrows furrowing and pulling out his phone to check. As if on cue, it chimed softly with a new text message.

"My phone is... kind of old..." Kenma said, averting his gaze. It was partially out of sheepishness, and partially out of the fact that he was aware of how his face kept getting warmer and warmer the longer he looked at Akaashi.

"But, you're okay, though?" Akaashi said, looking down at his phone and reading the delayed text message. "You seemed kind of... off, yesterday."

Kenma shrugged. "Yeah. I think I might be sick, I'm not sure."

He could feel Akaashi's intense gaze switch back to focus on his face. "You do look pretty red... Do you have a fever?" Before Kenma could react, he took two steps, closing the distance between them and raising a hand to rest against Kenma's forehead. It was cold, and slightly clammy. Definitely not an attractive palm. And yet. And yet.

"I might be contagious," Kenma said quickly, staring down wide-eyed at the floor, his heart pounding out of his throat. "You should leave. I might make you sick, too." His voice sounded too loud to his own ears.

Akaashi retracted his hand away from Kenma quickly at that, and Kenma immediately cursed and blessed its absence. "Yeah?" he asked quietly.

Kenma couldn't bring himself to look up at him. It was too dangerous. "Yeah."

He saw Akaashi's feet take a step back. "Okay. Well, I'm glad you're safe. I'll talk to you later."

And without another word, he turned and padded out of Kenma's room. Kenma heard his footsteps, gentle but sure, fade away down the hall and down the stairs. A moment later, he heard the click of his front door, and let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding.

Okay, he was majorly, majorly in trouble.

As he breathed deeply and tried to get his resting heart rate back down to a normal rate, Kenma tried to take stock of the situation.

He definitely, undeniably, absolutely had a crush on Akaashi. He was apparently unable of dealing with that crush without blushing and panicking. He had never had a crush before, and didn't have the faintest idea of how to proceed or act or what. Lastly, his greatest resource was the wisdom of teenagers on the internet.

So, yeah, he was pretty screwed.

The next question was what he wanted to do about it. The assumption, it seemed, when someone got a crush on someone else was that they were going to pursue dating that person. But did Kenma want to date Akaashi?

He didn't even know what dating entailed, truth be told. He frowned, scrunching up his face in thought. There was the kind of dating that Kuroo and Bokuto did: high amounts of PDA, schmoopy text messages, constantly hanging out together... He didn't want that. It sounded like way too much stress. He didn't think Akaashi would want that either, truth be told. He seemed... low-key. Like Kenma.

Come to think of it, there were low-key relationships he saw in TV and movies; ones where you would think that the two were just friends, from how they acted. Maybe there was an affectionate glance here and there, but that was it. Kenma thought he could probably handle that. If he and Akaashi dated, it would probably be like that. Hanging out, just being together... that would be nice.

Kenma still wasn't sure how badly -- if at all -- he wanted the physical affection stuff -- holding hands, kissing, etc -- but... Akaashi was always so considerate and aware of how others were feeling. He kept an eye on Kenma when it was just the two of them at the train station to make sure that he wasn't uncomfortable. He knew, deep down in his gut, that he would do the same when it came to dating.

Right now, though, he did want to try that physical stuff. He could still feel the phantom touch of Akaashi's hand on his forehead, could still feel the muted warmth of his hand through Kenma's mitten from the night before. He wanted to feel that again, without the mitten between them.

He let out a sigh of tension. Okay. So. He wanted to date Akaashi. ...How? How was he supposed to... make that happen?

Kenma looked around his room searchingly, as if the answer would magically materialize in front of him. His gaze landed upon his phone. He could always text Kuroo or Shouyou to ask how they got together. That would give him an idea of how it worked, anyways... He picked up his phone and quickly tapped out the same message to both of them, and then set his phone back down.

He stood up, wincing as his back cracked from staying sitting for so long. Needing some escapism, he walked over to his games shelf and began to thumb through the cases, looking for no game in particular.

Then, his eyes fell upon it. It had been a gag gift from... Yamamoto, he thought? Probably. Or maybe Fukunaga. He had never played it, never even opened it. He had considered playing it simply for trophy points, but... that was a low he was not willing to sink to. Not until today.

With some trepidation, and a great deal of self-disgust, Kenma took "First Love! Takeuchi Academy 3" off the shelf and walked over to put it into his PlayStation 4.

The next time Kenma looked up from the TV, the sun had already set. He had successfully romanced Sayuri, the kuudere honours student (chosen because she was the closest thing to Akaashi the game had to offer). His head was spinning: this game was possibly one of the hardest games he had ever played. But he felt like he had learned a lot, and the panic he felt from earlier about how to convince Akaashi to go out with him had subsided. He was calm. He had a plan.

So, when he checked his phone to see that he had a text message from Akaashi, he only felt the tiniest swarm of butterflies in his belly. A manageable flock, really.

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[From: Akaashi Keiji]

[Subj: You free tomorrow?]

[Kuroo and Bokuto are coming over to my house at 3 to "study" for entrance exams (flirt while textbooks are out -_-). I'm gonna go crazy if I'm alone with them. Wanna come over? You can just play on your PSP if you want.]

[To: Akaashi Keiji]

[From: Akaashi Keiji]

[Subj: Re: You free tomorrow?]

[sure]

He checked to see if he had gotten replies from Kuroo or Hinata yet. They usually replied back immediately, but... he had gone into sort of a trance with that game. That wasn't unusual when he played games, truth be told.

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[From: Kuroo Tetsurou]

[Subj: Re: (n/a)]

[omg so one time we were watching a movie and ended up making out in his basement??? and he apologized so I thought he didn't wanna do stuff and i was rly bummed out for like a week and then he came and confessed his love for me by throwing rocks at my window lol ^*u*^!!! romeo and juliet right koutarou is soooo romantic~~~~]

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[From: Hinata Shouyou]

[Subj: Re: (n/a)]

[LOL HE YELLED THAT HE HAD A CRUSH ON ME 1 DAY WHEN WE WERE ARGUING ABT VBALL AND I YELLED BACK THAT I DID 2 AND THEN IT WAS AWK LOL BUT IT'S COOL NOW xDD]

Kenma wrinkled up his nose in distaste. He didn't know why he didn't expect his two loud best friends to confess their love through shouting and vandalism, but here he was.

He set his phone down with a sigh, shaking his head slightly to relieve himself of the image of those two ridiculous confessions. Maybe that had worked for the people they were interested in, but Akaashi was different. He was like Kenma, and needed a gentler touch. More subtlety.

The next day, he set out for Akaashi's house two train stops away with a plan in his mind, fresh from the plot of "First Love! Takeuchi Academy 3". It was simple to romance somebody, really. You just had to figure out an interest, give them a present, and ignore everyone else. Grinding their Love Meter through conversation was good too. The Love Meter had to be at max before you asked them out, or else it reset.

Akaashi's house wasn't too far of a walk from the train station, and Kenma was grateful for it. His shoulder bag was heavier than he was used to. Usually it only contained his wallet, a handheld game system or two, and maybe a scarf. Today, he was carrying extra cargo, for the "gift" part of his romancing plan.

Even if he didn't know where Akaashi lived, he could tell as he stood outside the door that he was at the right place: he could hear Kuroo and Bokuto laughing raucously through the door. Kenma winced; he felt bad for Akaashi's neighbours. He knocked on the door, and waited, his heart racing a little. He had felt calm last night after formulating his plan, but now that he was here...

No. There was nothing to be worried about. He had a formula. It was going to be alright.

Akaashi opened up the door, and smiled a lazy, genuine smile down at him. Kenma did his best to swallow down his now-pounding heart that had travelled up to his throat. "Hey," he greeted, his gaze darting away. Eye contact was still hard.

"Hey, come in," Akaashi said, opening the door wider so he could slip in. As Kenma toed off his shoes in the entrance way, he said, "My parents are away on vacation right now, which is why Bokuto invited himself over."

Kenma nodded mutely, and followed Akaashi as he led the way to the living room. Again, even without having been in his house before -- which he had, on a handful of occasions -- he would know where they were going from the noisy duo chattering away down the hall.

Kuroo and Bokuto were already sitting down at a table, notes spread out in front of them. As Akaashi had predicted, it appeared to be for appearance's sake only: Bokuto had one of his elbows on an open textbook as he loudly and animatedly told Kuroo a story that, from what Kenma could understand, was about a penguin?

Akaashi and Kenma sat down at the other two unoccupied sides of the table. Akaashi had his notes out, too, although they were less extensive. He was a second year like Kenma, and wasn't cramming for entrance exams yet. Kenma glanced over and saw that he was studying what appeared to be chemistry.

"Chemistry test?" he asked, nodding at his notes.

Akaashi glanced up at him. "Yeah. On Tuesday."

Kenma opened his mouth again. Was this an interest? Did this count as a conversation piece? Was he grinding Akaashi's Love Meter? He closed his mouth again. He wasn't taking chemistry. He almost failed basic chemistry last year when he did take it.

Instead, he glanced around the room. It was a familiar room, but he was hoping for something new to pique his interest and start a conversation.

Nothing. Damn the Akaashi family and their minimalist sensibilities.

Well, there was one thing that he knew he and Akaashi had a common interest in. "How's volleyball going?" he asked.

Akaashi looked over curiously at him, and Kenma immediately felt stupid. They had talked about volleyball for hours on Friday night.

But, his expression softened into a shadow of a smile, and he said, "It's fine. I spent some time yesterday working on my jump serve. I'm not very good at it yet."

"Jump serve?" Kenma's eyebrows raised. "Want to be like Oikawa?"

Akaashi chuckled. "I mean, it's not like I have to work on my setting skills." His voice had a teasing note to it, and Kenma smiled.

"Ah, I'm pretty good at serving," Kuroo piped up, glancing over at their side of the table.

"Yeah?" Akaashi said. "Any pointers?"

The two of them talked about volleyball, and Kenma listened. This was... a relief, to be honest. He was terrible at making conversations. It was easy enough in his otome game: you picked one of four speech options. That was it. In real life though... it wasn't as easy.

But Akaashi had almost smiled at him, and started up the conversation that Kenma was so desperately trying to keep up. He kept it going, and took charge, and filled the silence. Conversations weren't Kenma's forte, but Akaashi was good at them. He was good at figuring out what Kenma needed. Akaashi was just... good.

Trying to ignore the heat in his cheeks, Kenma decided to move onto step two of the "First Love! Takeuchi Academy 3" plan: a gift. He rifled through his bag, which was sitting beside him on the floor, and pulled out a plastic container.

"I made some cookies," he said, putting the container onto the table and peeling off the lid. "You guys can have some if you want."

His eyes met Kuroo's over the table instantly. There was apprehension in his eyes. Kenma looked away. They had turned out alright this time, he thought. They weren't burnt, and they were solid, not soggy dough.

"Oh, wow, thanks!" Bokuto chirped, reaching a hand out to the box and taking a couple. "There's like, no food here. Akaashi never has any food."

"I have food," Akaashi said defensively, looking slightly offended.

He scoffed. "You have kale chips."

"That's food!"

Akaashi reached over and took a cookie from the bin, locking eyes with Kenma as he did so and smiling that lazy smile at him. "Thanks, Kenma."

His heart needed to calm down, he thought as he nodded and averted his eyes again. He took a cookie for himself. He hadn't actually had time to try one before he left, and didn't know if they were any good. He took a bite.

Bland. His heart fell. They were so bland. There was sugar, and chocolate chips, and vanilla extract, but all he tasted was dough. Dried out, overcooked dough.

Kenma looked around the table to gauge the reactions. Bokuto had taken about half a dozen cookies, but his first one sat on top of the pile, half eaten and now being ignored. Kuroo was taking bites out of one, but he didn't look pleased about it. Akaashi was finishing up his first one, and, without taking his eyes off his chemistry notes, reached out to grab a second.

He stared at him. "Do you like them?" Kenma asked, with more shock than shyness.

"Yeah, they're good," Akaashi said thickly, covering his mouth with a hand as he chewed. "Not too sweet. Usually I don't really like cookies, but these are good."

Glancing over at Kuroo and Bokuto, they were wearing the same bewildered expression that Kenma must have been.

Well. The gift was a success, he supposed? Inexplicably, it was a success.

The last part of the plan was to focus on Akaashi and ignore everyone else, but... that wasn't really feasible, he realized. In "First Love! Takeuchi Academy 3", there had been half a dozen girls vying for his attention. It was necessary to actively avoid the other girls if he wanted Sayuri to pay attention to him. But... well, Bokuto and Kuroo were too wrapped up in each other to warrant ignoring. Really, it was like Kenma had no choice but to pay attention to Akaashi.

"Are you feeling better?" Akaashi asked, glancing up from his notes. He had that worried look on his face, the one that made Kenma's belly warm. "You seemed off yesterday."

He had no idea how "off" Kenma was... how "off" he still was. But Kenma kept his composure. "Yeah, I just... played video games all day," he said, honestly. "Just relaxed," he continued, dishonestly.

"That's good," he said, smiling softly with relief. "I was worried."

The most curious battle of emotions was waging inside Kenma at that moment. On one hand, he was freaking out because Akaashi, who he had recently realized he wanted to date, was in front of him, talking to him, worrying about him. On another hand, he was highly irritated with himself and feeling unsettled because why was he feeling so panicky about being around somebody who he wanted to date and be around more? Also, who was he, liking somebody? That wasn't who he was. This wasn't his life.

But, moreover, on top of all those anxious feelings, there was the lovely sense of calm and peace that Akaashi seemed to ooze over him whenever they were together. He couldn't really feel panicky, when Akaashi was there.

Honestly, when he thought about it, as unsettling and weird and chaotic as the last 48 hours had been, when Akaashi, the source of all the ridiculousness, was in front of him... it felt like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay.

"Do you have any drinks, Akaashi?" Bokuto asked, as he charitably ate the rest of his half-eaten cookie. He also quietly put the rest of the pile back into the box that Akaashi was steadily working his way through.

"Yeah, we have juice, water, milk, coffee... I could make some tea."

"Can I get juice?" he asked, grinning.

"Me too?" Kuroo asked.

Akaashi looked over at Kenma. "Do you want anything to drink, Kenma?"

His mouth was unbearably dry from the horrible cookies. "I'll have some milk. I'll come with you to help carry stuff," he offered.

He smiled. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

The two of them stood up from the table and Kenma followed Akaashi to his kitchen. Like the rest of his house (or at least the parts that he had seen), it was minimalist and tidy.

"Is it okay if I use your microwave?" Kenma asked, as Akaashi reached up to grab glasses from the cupboard.

He turned to look at him, frowning with puzzlement. "Sure. Why?"

Kenma crossed his arms over his chest. "I like my milk warm." He could hear the defensive note in his own voice.

Akaashi stared at him blankly for a second, and he maintained the eye contact. Then, Akaashi let out a peal of laughter, turning away and covering his mouth. Kenma stared. He had never seen him laugh like that. "Of course you do," he muttered almost to himself, through his laughter. "Yeah, go ahead."

Kenma poured himself a mug of milk, still staring suspiciously at Akaashi. Part of him was buzzing with joy at making him laugh like that, but another part was concerned at what -- or rather who -- he was laughing at. Akaashi looked up at him, and grinned a wide grin. Kenma felt his heart literally skip a beat (which he thought was just an expression until now).

"Sorry, it's just... you're such a cat. You're the most Nekoma-ish Nekoma ever. It's incredible."

It was Kenma's turn to stare blankly. He had no idea what to make of that statement. So, he just put his mug of milk in the microwave, set the timer, and waited. He watched as Akaashi poured a mug of coffee for himself from a half-full coffee pot. He took a big gulp of it, piping hot and black, and then topped off the rest of the cup. Kenma felt some fondness as he watched him do this: he rarely saw Akaashi without a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Don't you usually add sugar?" he asked, as Akaashi took another sip of the black coffee.

"To the restaurant stuff, yeah," he replied with a nod. "Because it usually tastes awful. My coffee is a special blend; doesn't need anything else added to it to make it good."

The microwave beeped as Kenma continued to stare at Akaashi. And Akaashi thought he was weird for liking warm milk.

Akaashi looked up at him as he sipped his coffee, and mistook Kenma's stare of bewilderment for one of curiosity. "Did you wanna try some?" he offered, holding out the mug to him.

There, he thought suddenly, his mind flashing back to his original plan: he found an interest. Time to grind that Love Meter. "Sure," he lied, and reached out and took it. Their fingertips brushed in the exchange.

The coffee smelled... rich. Almost sweet, and heady, and achingly familiar. He took another deep sniff, trying to place the smell. It was calming, and warm... it kind of reminded him of being curled up in front of a fireplace. He took a sip, and immediately scrunched up his face in disgust. It tasted like coffee.

"Don't like it?" Akaashi said, that ghost of a lazy smile playing around his lips.

"It tastes like coffee," he said, handing the mug back to him. "Smells good, though."

He chuckled. "My mom says that my clothes smell like this coffee now, because I drink it so much." As Akaashi took a long sip of his coffee, Kenma realized with a horrible cold jolt why that scent was so familiar and so good.

He turned away from Akaashi, feeling his cheeks grow hot (seriously, would he ever stop blushing at stupid stuff??) and opened up the microwave, taking his mug out. He could tell through the porcelain that the milk was at just the right temperature, and he took a sip of it, feeling the warmth trickle through him. It was a comfort drink, and he was glad to have it in these discomforting times.

He looked up to find Akaashi looking at the mug curiously. "Can I try it?" he asked, grinning a little. "I'm just curious. I've never had warm milk."

Kenma nodded, and held out the mug to him. Akaashi took it, and their fingertips brushed again. Akaashi took a sip, and let out a soft hum. "It's good," he said, pulling the mug away. He had milk residue on his upper lip. Kenma stared at it.

"You've got, um..." He trailed off awkwardly, pointing to his own lips. Akaashi blinked, and then his tongue darted out, licking along the top of his lip. "Is it gone?" he asked.

Kenma was frozen, staring at his lip. The tongue, swiping slowly across his lip, kept replaying in his mind's eye. A curious frisson of heat, hot and thick like his milk, was growing in his stomach... No, lower than his stomach.

"Did I get it??"Akaashi asked again, and brought a thumb to swipe across his lips, looking for any traces of the milk. He was staring at Kenma, their gazes locked together. The frisson of heat grew bigger, more insistent.

"Kenma? ...Are you okay?"

He snapped out of his trance. The heat was growing, aching, and Kenma was scared. Panicking. He didn't know what was happening to his body, but he knew it had something to do with this crush. Something to do with Akaashi.

He had to get away. "I'm suddenly not feeling well," he said quickly, his tone robotic, breaking his gaze away from Akaashi. "I need to go home."

Before Akaashi could respond, he set his mug down on the counter and walked, very quickly, back to the living group. He grabbed his bag in a swooping crouch, not breaking stride and not saying anything to Bokuto or Kuroo, and walked towards the door.

"Wait, Kenma!" he called out, running after him. Kenma didn't dare turn around. "Do you want to lie down or something? You shouldn't be going home by yourself!"

"No, I need to go home," he called out, still not turning around. He slipped his shoes on rapidly and went through the door, walking at a near-jog.

His heart was pounding. This was terrifyingly reminiscent of the train ride a few nights before. The two of them alone, in close quarters, Akaashi licking his lips, and Kenma freaking out and fleeing.

Kenma cursed at himself quietly in his head. Was this the way he was now? Running away whenever his crush made itself known?

But... this was different. This wasn't the butterflies or the flip-flopping stomach he had felt before. This was... a new dimension of this horrible crush. This was a viscous, hot, spreading heat. He realized with a start, coming to a sudden halt, that his pants were tighter than usual across his groin. Uncomfortably tight.

Realization bloomed over him horribly. He was turned on.

Oh god.

Thank god it was winter, he thought as he walked quickly to the train station. His coat came down to nearly his knees, and hid it well from any passersby. He tried hard to think of anything that wasn't Akaashi, but... well, it was easier said than done. His mind, his traitorous asshole mind, wouldn't let him think of anything else for more than a minute or two. He managed to get his mind back in working order -- for the most part -- by the time he got to the station, luckily, by focusing aggressively on strategies to beat the level of that puzzle game he was stuck on.

It was frustrating, he thought as he sat on the train. He wasn't used to being so... fixated on something. Well, except for video games, but that was something he willingly inflicted upon himself. Usually when something was bothering Kenma, he was able to let it go. He was able to focus elsewhere and move on, or at least put it aside until it was more convenient to deal with.

Not this time, though. Not with Akaashi.

He wondered as he walked home from the station if it was like this for everyone else. Was this level of ridiculous obsession normal? Surely not everyone walked around with these bizarre, violent, extreme emotions. Surely not everyone was always thinking about the person they liked. Honestly, he could almost understand how Kuroo never shut up about Bokuto. If Kenma was the chatty type, he would find it difficult to stop talking about his crush, in his current state of mind.

Kenma shook his head slightly as he entered his house. When he started understanding Kuroo in regards of love... well, hell must have frozen over. Maybe that's why it was so cold outside.

He flopped down onto his bed with a groan, sighing into his empty bedroom. Today had been... too much. He had only been at Akaashi's for, what, 2 hours? And it was way too much. Too much effort. Too many emotions. Too much confusion. Too much.

Now that he was alone in his room, without Akaashi staring curiously at him, without the passersby on the street, without the passengers on the train, he let his mind wander to where it wanted to be: Akaashi. Almost immediately, as if waiting for permission to return, that thick warmth flooded back into his gut, into his groin. He let it. What was the point of resisting? Fighting it only seemed to make it worse. When he fought his romantic feelings, they attacked him. These new sexual feelings... he might as well get dealing with them over with.

His hand trailed down his torso to rest at his groin. Cupping himself through his jeans, Kenma let out a sigh of relief. He was already getting hard again, his body eager to carry on with what it wanted. He brought his other hand down to his jeans and unbuttoned them, shimmying them down his hips along with his underwear. His dick popped out, resting against his stomach. It was already pink, beginning to turn rosy red at the tip.

As he began to touch it, he let out a soft sigh of released tension. He began to stroke up and down with his right hand, bringing his left to rest limply above his head. His eyes fluttered shut, and for the first time in his life, images appeared behind his eyelids as he touched himself.

He had touched himself plenty of times before, out of boredom or a need to sleep. It did feel good, even if he had no real drive or need to touch himself. It had been purely physical, like scratching an itch. Now, though... It was almost like it was amplified, like he had turned the volume up on his own body. In his mind's eye, Akaashi stared up at him through lidded, dark-lashed eyes as his own hand, not Kenma's, stroked over his length.

"Is this okay? Does it feel good?" Akaashi asked in his mind, with that soft voice. Kenma let out a harsh breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and tipped his head back, baring his throat to his room. His hand quickened its pace over his dick; his mental image of Akaashi also quickened his ministrations.

"Can I...?" Akaashi asked, smiling that lazy smile, and, in his mind's eye, stilled his hand at the base of Kenma's dick and replaced his fist with his mouth.

Kenma cursed quietly into his empty room as he imagined the sensation. It would feel so good. Those lips, that tongue... It darted out over the tip of Kenma's dick, lapping at the beading precome there just like it had lapped at Akaashi's own lips, seeking that milk. He let out a groan, his pleasure spiking to a climax, watching the Akaashi behind his eyelids bob up and down on his dick, and felt his come spill into his fist.

He opened his eyes, breathing hard, looking down at his own body. There was no Akaashi. There was only his messy hand. Kenma felt oddly hollow, staring down at the empty space where he should be. Rolling onto his side, he grabbed a Kleenex from his bedside table to clean up, and then, feeling at once sated and needing more (although, more of what, he wasn't sure), he pulled his blankets over himself and fell asleep.

A loud, insistent buzzing woke him up some time later from his nap, and as he blinked the sleep away from his eyes, he realized it was his cellphone ringing. He rolled over, grabbing it from his bedside table and squinting at the front screen. [Incoming Call from: Kuroo Tetsurou]. He let out a sigh and flipped his phone open, rolling onto his back as he brought the phone to his ear.

"Hello?" His voice was grumbly and hoarse, and he cleared his throat.

"Hey, it's me," Kuroo replied, his voice sounding tinny and weird through the phone. "Sorry, did I wake you up?"

"Yeah."

"Oh. Yeah, we figured you were probably asleep, since you weren't answering texts... Are you feeling okay? You kinda... bolted. Akaashi said you were sick."

Kenma sighed. "Yeah. Feeling a bit better."

"Oh, okay, cool! Hey, if you're feeling up to it, we're going to go out to get some food. Wanna come with?"

He paused. "Who's 'we'?"

"Me, Bokuto, and Akaashi."

Kenma thought of the wadded up Kleenex in the trashcan below his bedside table. A hot spike of shame ran through him. "No thanks," he said, a bit too quickly.

Kuroo was silent on the other end of the line for a moment. When he spoke again, it was quieter than before, no more than a murmur, like he was trying not to be overheard. "Akaashi thinks that you're mad at him."

His gaze skittered off to the side, even though there was no one in front of him to avert his eyes from. "I'm not mad at him."

"Really? Because the last couple days, you've apparently bolted from him when he's -- allegedly -- done nothing wrong." He paused. "Kenma, did he do anything to you? Because -- "

"No, no, he didn't do anything," he said quickly, his heart racing. If Kuroo thought that Akaashi had wronged Kenma in some way, there would be hell to pay. He continued, "I just... felt off. And had to go."

There was another silence, and Kenma was suddenly thankful that this conversation was happening over the phone instead of in person. This would be the part where Kuroo stared at Kenma, searching his expression for any traces of dishonesty or hidden feelings. Over the phone, though, there wasn't much he could do but be silent. "Okay, well," Kuroo spoke again, "If you change your mind, lemme know."

"Okay. Bye."

"Bye."

Kenma hung up his phone, and let it drop to his bed, releasing a huge breath he didn't know that he'd been holding in.

He couldn't face Akaashi right now. He just couldn't. He could barely get through a one-on-one conversation with the guy without getting overwhelmed by... all of this.

Because it really was overwhelming. It was terrifying and confusing, to wake up one day thinking that he was asexual and aromantic, and ending the day being proved wrong. Now... what was he? Who was he? He wasn't sure anymore. He knew that there was a spectrum of sexuality and romanticism, and he wasn't sure where he fit -- surely he didn't count as a fully sexual/romantic person if, in his 16 years of life, there had only had one person who he was attracted to and interested in. Maybe greysexual? Demiromantic? Who was to say there wouldn't be another person in a few months who he felt this way towards? Maybe this was only the beginning of it. Maybe he was actually just like everyone else. Maybe he really was just a late bloomer, like everyone had always said.

Cold dread creeped through him. That was the worst part of it. He had taken defiant pride in his triple ace status, despite what everyone else had said. Now... maybe they were right all along, and he really was just a stupid kid.

On top of that identity crisis and self-doubt and confusion, he was just... awful at flirting, or being a romantic person, or whatever. He had no idea what he was doing. And that was just exhausting.

It wasn't fair, he realized, to inflict all that complication onto Akaashi. It wasn't his fault that Kenma was a mess, and he shouldn't have to deal with it. He never wanted to be... a pain. And there was no way he could be anything but that, in his current state, to Akaashi.  

So, he felt no guilt, staying home while his friends went out to dinner, even though he wasn't truly sick. He wasn't avoiding his problems. He was just not being the problem. Akaashi was better off not having to deal with him.

It turned out that Kuroo disagreed. "You need to stop avoiding Akaashi," he said the next morning, as they walked to school together.

Kenma inwardly groaned. It was too early to deal with this. "I'm not avoiding him," he sighed.

He could hear the skeptical eyebrow raise in Kuroo's voice without having to look at him. "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," he said stubbornly.

"Want to hang out with those guys after practice today?"

"No."

"...But you're definitely not avoiding him."

"Nope."

He saw Kuroo's arm raise in his peripheral vision to rake a hand through his already unruly hair. "I thought you and Akaashi were getting along well? You seem to enjoy being with him."

Kenma felt himself colour a bit. "We are getting along. Doesn't mean I have to spend every minute of every day with him, does it?"

"No, I suppose not."

They walked in silence for a bit. Kenma just wanted to get to the heated volleyball gym as soon as possible. Early morning practices were normally hellish, but when the sun hadn't even fully risen over the horizon yet and the cold air bit at every inch of exposed skin on his body, it seemed like an especially cruel punishment.

"Well, you should at least reply to his texts, if you're not avoiding him," Kuroo said, glancing over at Kenma. Kenma looked up at him, startled. How did Kuroo know he hadn't responded?? Kuroo's face broke out into a smug, satisfied grin at his expression. "Ah, I guessed right?"

Kenma turned away, scowling into his scarf, and quickening his pace. The sooner they got to practice, the better.

After practice, though, while he was sitting in his classroom waiting for the homeroom teacher to arrive, he ended up pulling out his phone. Yesterday, he had seen that he had three messages from Akaashi, but had ignored them. He just didn't feel adequately prepared to deal with them. Now, though, he felt alright. He was more balanced, at peace. He could do this.

His heart sank slightly as opened up his messages. Now he had five text messages from Akaashi.

Taking a deep breath, he began to read them in chronological order.

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[From: Akaashi Keiji]

[Subj: Feel better soon.]

[Hey, you kind of ran out of here fast, but rest up, okay? You're getting sick a lot. Don't push yourself too hard.]

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[From: Akaashi Keiji]

[Subj: Cookies.]

[You forgot your cookie bin. You can come over and get it whenever you want. Or I can bring it to you?? I'll text first this time.]

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[From: Akaashi Keiji]

[Subj: (n/a)]

[Did I do something wrong? I know you said you were sick, but... I don't know. If I did something wrong you can tell me.]

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[From: Akaashi Keiji]

[Subj: (n/a)]

[So, I'm not sure what happened, but I know I did something to upset you. I don't know what. I don't want to be a jerk but I'm not sure what's wrong. Can we talk about it?]

[To: Kozume Kenma]

[From: Akaashi Keiji]

[Subj: (n/a)]

[Alternately, if you want me to never talk to you again, that's cool too. Just tell me. Want you to be happy.]

Kenma sighed and let his arms fall down to his desk, still limply clutching his phone. His heart ached. It was a different kind of ache than he was used to with Akaashi, but it was a more familiar one. It was the ache of the realization that someone he cared about was in pain.

This was stupid. All of this was ridiculous. What was the point of stressing himself out, of hurting Akaashi, of any of this?? When it came down to it, he thought, there was one thing that might fix all this mess: asking Akaashi out.

Best case scenario, he accepted and they dated and things were like before but better. Worst case scenario, he turned Kenma down... but even then, he wouldn't make things weird. Kenma was the one making things weird right now. Akaashi was kind, and considerate. He just wanted Kenma to feel comfortable, even if that meant that Kenma would never speak to him again.

He lifted his phone back up, and tapped out a reply, his heart hammering rapidly in his chest, a knot forming in his throat.

[To: Akaashi Keiji]

[From: Kozume Kenma]

[Subj: (n/a)]

[i'll see you tonight. we'll talk then]

[To: Kuroo Tetsurou]

[From: Kozume Kenma]

[Subj: (n/a)]

[on second thought yeah i'll come tonight]

He slipped his phone into his pants pocket and looked up as his homeroom teacher walked in. He let out a sigh. Now, he just had to wait.

Time had a curious way of doing exactly the opposite of what you wanted it to do. Kenma, honestly, would have loved to stay at school at forever that day, if it meant he didn't have to deal with his problems. But, unlike every other day, the hours flew by. Before he knew it, he was on the train with Kuroo, their schoolbags between their feet, heading downtown to meet up with Akaashi and Bokuto.

He didn't think it was possible for his heart to beat faster than it did when he had to run five miles for school, but here he was, walking down the street towards the meeting point with his heart jackhammering in his chest. He wondered absently if this was what a heart attack felt like. A small, desperate part of him hoped that it was a heart attack and that he would have to be rushed to the emergency room. 

No such luck, of course. They rounded the corner and saw Akaashi and Bokuto leaning against the statue that was their official meeting point. They glanced over at the approaching duo, and stood up straight and waved. Kenma noticed that, while Bokuto's smile at his boyfriend was almost luminescent, Akaashi's was even smaller than usual. Guilt coiled up inside of him, and he took a deep, bracing breath. This confession was in both of their interests. It was the only thing that would stop all of this ridiculousness.

Bokuto wanted to go shopping for clothes, so the four of them walked leisurely towards the store where he and Kuroo apparently got all their basketball shorts and tank tops with weird slogans across them. Bokuto and Kuroo led the way, and Akaashi and Kenma followed behind.

They walked in silence for awhile. Akaashi glanced over at him occasionally, searchingly, but said nothing. Kenma dropped his pace steadily, so that the gap between them and their friends grew larger and larger. He doubted that they would listen to the two of them anyways -- their conversation was so loud and ceaseless that it was near impossible -- but he wanted to be sure.

"So," Kenma said, his throat unsticking. "Talking."

"Yeah."

He couldn't bring himself to look over at Akaashi. His face felt fluorescently pink. "Um... I don't... know how to begin..." he said awkwardly.

"That's okay."

Inwardly, he cursed Akaashi for trying to make him relaxed when he was trying to confess his feelings. Honestly, if Akaashi could be a bit of a jerk for five minutes, it would make this less daunting. He decided to start simple. "I... haven't been sick."

He saw him nod out of the corner of his eye. "That's good. I was worried," he said softly.

"I'm also not mad at you. You didn't do anything wrong."

Now, Akaashi turned to look at him. Kenma looked over, and saw that his eyes were wide, wider than he had ever seen them. His mouth was slightly agape, his lips parted. Kenma looked away. Looking at his lips tended to make him flee. He had to get through this.

"I've been freaking out and running away because... well, you make me panic." That sounded bad. "Not... because of what you do. But because of who you are."

Oh, god, he was really bad at this.

Talking around it wasn't doing any good. He was just avoiding it more. He just had to do it. Just had to say it.

"Akaashi, I... have a crush on you."

Out of the corner of his eye, Akaashi disappeared. Kenma turned quickly, to see Akaashi stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk a few steps back, staring mutely at him in shock. His expression was almost comical, and if Kenma didn't feel like his world was on the brink of being destroyed, he might have laughed.

"You... have a crush?" he replied weakly. "On me?"

Kenma nodded. He forced himself not to look away. No more running. Not from Akaashi. Not from this.

"I thought... Aren't you asexual? And aromantic?"

"I thought I was," he said, frowning a bit. "But apparently not. Maybe greysexual? I don't know. This is all... new."

"And you have a crush. On me."

"Yep."

Then, something strange happened. That comically shocked expression changed, morphed into something new, something that Kenma had never seen on his face before. It also became very, very pink.

"That's... that's cool."

Kenma blinked. "It is?"

"Yeah." Akaashi looked away, broke their eye contact. "I mean... I kind of... Same."

It took a second for him to realize what he meant. "Y-yeah?"

Akaashi nodded jerkily, almost aggressively, his gaze still pointedly not aimed at Kenma. "I mean... I have for awhile, but, I thought... you were asexual... so..."

Yet another strange occurrence was taking place inside of Kenma's gut, which had been the site of endless weirdness these last few days. Now, the butterflies that were fluttering around in there, making him feel queasy, seemed to bloom into golden fireworks, warm and exciting and tingly in his belly. It was startling but... truth be told, it was his favourite sensation so far.

"Okay. Cool," Kenma said slowly, nodding. Akaashi looked up at him, through his eyelashes. Kenma smiled a bit at him, and he smiled a bit back.

"I guess... we should try to catch up with the others," Akaashi said, still grinning.

"I guess."

They walked together, in the general direction of where Bokuto and Kuroo had taken off. As Kenma predicted, they had apparently taken no notice of the pair lagging behind: they were nowhere in sight. Kenma didn't really mind. Whether they found them or not made no difference to him.

They were, in fact, waiting for them a block or two down, and once they had caught up, they went forward as group.

As they walked, Kenma's fingers brushed against Akaashi's accidentally. Both of them glanced down, and then glanced back up at each other. Akaashi grinned that grin, and reached out for Kenma's hand.

Bokuto and Kuroo, too wrapped up in their own conversation, didn't notice the gently swinging joined hands behind them. It seemed strange that they were so oblivious, when Kenma felt that his entire world had been narrowed down to that small point of contact.

Akaashi and Kenma ended up heading back early -- Akaashi did have that chemistry test the next morning, and Kenma... well, Kenma just wanted to have more time alone with Akaashi. Their walk back to the train station was eerily familiar, but at the same time, completely different than before. This time, their hands were joined. This time, they were both smiling at nothing in particular. And this time... maybe Kenma walked a little bit slow on purpose. Maybe.

"I'm gonna walk you home," Akaashi said, as they waited for the train.

Kenma glanced over. "Why?"

"Because I want to spend more time with you." Kenma stared at him, and felt himself go red. Akaashi glanced over at him, and grinned. "Ah, you're cute when you blush." It was said with more fondness than realization.

He looked away, scowling. "Shut up."

"I've been wanting to say you're cute for so long. It's going to be hard to stop, now that I'm allowed." He said it with such shocking ease.

"Who says you're allowed?" He grumbled.

He looked over, his smug grin faltering a little bit. "Am I allowed?"

Kenma sighed. "Yes, you're allowed."

"Nice."

Their train pulled into the station, and this time, to Kenma's great relief, it wasn't that crowded. There wasn't room for them to sit, but at least Kenma wasn't forced against the door.

Or, at least he thought he wasn't but somehow they ended up in the same position, with Akaashi fencing him in from the rest of the train car. "The train isn't that crowded," Kenma murmured softly. "You don't have to stand so close to me this time."

"Sorry," Akaashi said hastily, backing away.

Kenma sighed. "I was joking. Come back."

"Oh." He stepped back forward, coming into Kenma's space again

They rode the rest of the way to Kenma's stop like that, in comfortable, warm silence, standing way too close to one another. This was nice, he thought. It was just like before, but it was also so, so different. Better. Just how Kenma wanted it to be.

They got off the train, and began to walk in the direction of Kenma's house (again, maybe a little bit slower than necessary). They walked in silence for a moment or two, but then Akaashi turned to Kenma, pink-faced, and blurted out, "I really wanted to kiss your forehead on the train, but I was worried about the people around. But I still really want to kiss your forehead. Is that okay? Can I?"

Blinking in surprise for a moment, Kenma smiled a little, and nodded, tilting his forehead obediently down. It was unnecessary, as Akaashi was naturally at the perfect height for forehead kisses. He felt a soft, gentle press of those damnable lips on his forehead, and felt the fireworks in his stomach burst outward, tingling along his spine and the back of his legs. The kiss only lasted a second, maybe two, but the tingling electricity lasted well past that.

This was all raw and new, this thing with Akaashi. There were a million more things Kenma had never thought of, never wanted, never felt before now. But now, with this man standing in front of him... he wanted to experience every ridiculous bit of it.