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Being able to room with Bokuto for university had been a welcome surprise.
Kuroo had been nervous as hell about living with someone he didn't know, but when they found out they were going to the same school, things seemed to just fall into place.
Their new home for the next four years was more of an apartment style building than a traditional dorm. Each suite had two small bedrooms with a desk, a little bathroom with a shower, and a tiny kitchen attached to their common area. It wasn't grand by any stretch, but it worked just fine. At least they had a couch. Kuroo had heard from some others in the building that not every room got one.
One of the few problems he had with his life was that he didn't have a car. It made the weekly grocery haul a major pain, mostly because milk is annoyingly heavy to carry no matter how buff you get.
His only other major problem was his own damn fault.
He should have known that living in the same space as Bokuto wasn’t going to be all sunshine and bad puns. The sheer number of times he’d found himself getting sidetracked by golden eyes and some seriously intriguing biceps in high school should have been enough of a warning but no, Kuroo hadn’t paid attention to those implications at all. He all but ignored the big fat crush he’d been growing since second years training camp.
He only realized how screwed he really was when Bokuto decided that clothes apart from underwear should be strictly optional at home. Even worse, or better in some twisted way, was that while Kuroo had decided to keep volleyball as a hobby and focus on his degree, Bokuto had joined the varsity team.
Which meant some serious training.
To put it simply, the arms he ogled in high school had been puny in comparison.
Kuroo had held himself together for a year with the consolation that he just found Bokuto stupidly attractive, but of course that didn’t last either.
Reality crashed down on him one morning in second year when he found himself swooning over Bokuto’s miserable attempt at making them both breakfast.
Reality sucked.
Having the last of their eggs and bacon burnt to a crisp did too.
Being in love with your best friend though, that was utterly soul crushing.
The worst part of it all was that he had absolutely no idea how Bokuto would react when he figured it out, cause he was going to find out one way or another. Kuroo knew that it was only a matter of time.
He needed to do something.
He lasted another couple months before the guilt became too much. They were best friends. They shared almost everything, notable exceptions being this damn secret and preferred cereals, and Bokuto deserved at least the courtesy of being confessed to rather than just figuring out that Kuroo had been hiding this for so long.
Kuroo knew that no matter what, Bokuto wouldn’t think badly of him. The guy was unbearably kind and honest to a fault, but Kuroo was a coward.
Logically, he knew Bokuto, but as with most things he just couldn’t get his brain to shut up. He was haunted by the possibility that this could end everything, that he could end everything.
But he knew that this was something he needed to deal with before it backfired.
Kuroo took a deep breath.
Just fucking do it. You’ve planned this. No backing out.
He glanced down at Bokuto, happily snoring on the couch in his stupidly cute owl onesie, hair soft and limp, and placed the envelope on the coffee table. Before he could change his mind, he marched into the kitchen to distract himself.
Kuroo opened one of the cookbooks lying around and started flipping pages. He needed something complicated and preferably time consuming to keep his brain busy.
He needed something to distract himself from voice screaming at him to burn the letter sitting on that table before anything could happen.
He settled on making his own version of cream puffs. Bokuto had once again bought an extra carton eggs this week anyways, a habit left over from the time when neither of them could cook, and it needed to stop taking up space. Kuroo started plopping ingredients into a pot while mulling over every possible outcome of what was about to go down. In the worst-case scenario, he was pretty confident he could fool Bokuto into thinking it was just another April fools prank.
Kuroo glared as he stirred the slowly congealing custard cream.
Who the fuck was he kidding, Bokuto wasn’t an idiot. He’d see through that in a heartbeat.
Why the fuck did he think this was a good idea in the first place? This was a horrible idea. A ‘volleyball while drunk at 3AM in a Denny’s’ level of horrible idea.
He dumped the custard into a bowl and shoved it into the fridge, getting the pan ready for pastry puffs.
What the fuck was he doing…
By some miracle, Bokuto only woke up once the cooking was all done and Kuroo was folding an obscene amount of whipped cream into the custard. He plopped it into a pastry bag and started filling the puffs one at a time.
“Oh man something smells good!”
Kuroo flinched and overfilled the puff he was working on, the cream spurting out over his hand as well. Cursing, he wiped the excess off the pastry and licked the filling off his thumb. He sent up a silent prayer for his voice sound normal.
“They’re for after dinner Bo, isn’t it your turn to make food today?”
He tried to keep his hand from shaking as he heard a low grumble in response. There was the creak of the old couch’s springs, then silence.
He found it. Oh god.
Kuroo wasn't trying to keep his hands steady anymore, he was too busy focusing on how every heartbeat seemed to jerk painfully through his body and his throat felt like it had been stuffed with gravel. He barely heard the tearing of the envelope over the pounding in his ears.
He felt like he was going to throw up.
Breathe.
In and out.
His chest felt weird.
Kuroo focused on the cream puffs, filling them one at a time. They were almost all done.
“Kuroo?”
He heard the pit-pat of Bokuto’s feet moving over to the kitchen and panic ripped through him.
This was a mistake.
This was a mistake.
This was a big fucking mistake.
He finished filling the pastry and gripped the bag, bracing himself, then slapped a grin on just in time for Bokuto to poke his head into the kitchen.
Oh fuck.
“Hah! April Fools!” He forced out a snicker and ignored the way his voice wavered, refusing to look directly at his friend and staring at the puff in his hand like he was inspecting it for flaws.
“Kuroo?”
“Did I get you?” Kuroo bit into the pastry, but he couldn't taste it. He could barely force the lump of dough and cream down his throat.
Bokuto frowned and looked at the calendar hanging on their fridge. “Well it is April first, but–”
“Oh yeah, we’re out of icing sugar. I’ve gotta grab some from the store. You need anything?” It was a horribly flimsy excuse at best, but it distracted Bokuto enough to give Kuroo a chance to dart around him and out of the kitchen.
“Huh? Nah I’m good… Kuroo–”
“Alright, I’ll be back in a bit then! Make sure you start up dinner, if its ramen again I’m withholding cream puff privileges!”
“Wait a minute! Kuroo!”
He practically sprinted to the front door, ignoring Bokuto’s repeated attempts to talk to him. He yanked his shoes on and grabbed his keys and wallet. He was outside in a flash, walking quickly until he turned the corner, then breaking into a full on sprint. He didn’t care that it was pouring rain, he didn't care that his shoes would be ruined, all he knew was that he fucked up everything. All he could do was brace himself for the gentle letdown, for Bokuto’s unbearable kindness.
He didn't know if he could take it.
He felt, rather than heard, the horrible gasping sobs that wrenched their way out of his body. He shivered and slowed down to a walk, trying to stifle the noises with his hand. There wasn’t really anybody outside, considering the time and the weather, but he didn’t want to draw attention to himself.
Kuroo walked until he got to the small bus shelter near their local convenience store. He stepped under the overhang and sat down with a squelch, tucking up his feet and resting his forehead on his knees. His clothes were probably ruined and he was pretty sure that his shoes would need to be thrown out. It was a bit of a shame, since he actually liked them, but couldn’t find it in himself to really care. He pushed his hair back from where it was plastered down to his forehead and let his head fall back down onto his legs.
There was nothing to distract him from letting the full entirety of the situation crash down on his shoulders.
Here, safe from prying eyes and surrounded by the heavy, soothing thrum of the storm, he let himself choke at the feeling in his chest and hold his throat like it would help alleviate that horrible pressure.
He regretted everything as his heart throbbed. It felt like there was someone slowly squeezing him and shaving off pieces at the same time.
He should have known better than to think he could play it off.
Bokuto was damn perceptive.
Kuroo gasped and reached to grab his phone with numb fingers, hoping to maybe call Kenma, then realized he’d left it behind.
He was starting to get dark spots in his vision.
He really needed to calm down.
He remembered what he used to tell Kenma.
I know it feels impossible but you can always control your breathing.
Take a small breath in and then stop.
Hold it for a few seconds.
Good, now let it out nice and slow.
That's it you’re doing good, now one more time.
After god knows how long, he stood up and stepped back into the rain. He could somewhat breathe again though it was still difficult to regulate. Right now, he needed to get home. He’d have to go back and get this over with eventually.
“Kuroo?!”
Kuroo felt like time had stopped. He twisted his head to see Bokuto racing towards him, splashing through the puddles on the sidewalk and carrying their huge umbrella. He’d changed into shorts and a t-shirt, but his hair was still down, falling over his forehead in that stupid, unfairly attractive way of his.
That horrible feeling coursed back through him just as strongly as before and his breath caught in his throat.
Why is he here?!
He couldn’t do this. Not yet. He wasn’t ready to lose everything.
His chest started to seize up and the tears were flowing again, but the rain immediately washed them away. He ducked his face down.
“Dude, you’re soaked! Quick, get under the overhang or you’re gonna get a chill!”
As Bokuto reached towards him, he took a small step back. If he left the rain his tears would be visible.
Bokuto’s hand hovered for a moment, then dropped back to his side. Kuroo wanted to look up but he couldn’t find it in him to raise his head. He stared at his feet and tried to just keep breathing, to keep his breaths even. Soaked again by the rain, his hair fell in a sheet in front of him, weighing his head down and helping his face stay hidden.
Everything felt heavy, his arms, his legs, even the air.
He felt more tears spill silently over his cheeks and mix with the rain as he gritted his teeth and tried to keep from making any noise.
Was this was suffocating felt like?
“The Kuroo I know wouldn’t write something like that if it was just a joke.”
He flinched. He dragged another lungful of air in and stole a glance up at Bokuto.
He was chewing on his lower lip and fidgeting with the umbrella handle, fingers drumming out a nervous pattern on the cheap plastic. “Did you mean it? Was that the truth?”
He sounded so damn hopeful, but that was probably just Kuroo’s dumb wishful thinking come to ruin things more.
Kuroo looked up and before he could control it, a fresh wave of tears spilled over as he choked out an audible sob, his throat thick. “I’m sorry–!”
He was cut off by Bokuto’s arms yanking him into a hug before he could try to run again, squeezing tight enough to almost hurt. He stared at the umbrella lying on the ground, trying to ignore how much he was shaking and gasping as tension wound his shoulders up to his ears.
“Don’t apologize. Don’t you dare apologize.”
The arms around him gripped like a vise, barely letting him breathe, but at the same time helping to lessen the pressure that was already built up inside him.
“But–”
“Me too.”
What?
Startled, Kuroo leaned back to try and see Bokuto’s face. Bokuto stared back at him, his eyes as honest and sincere as they always were.
“I love you so please don’t say that was a joke.”
It was like unleashing a dam as those words hit him. All Kuroo could do was bury his face in Bokuto’s neck and sob, gripping onto the back of his shirt like it was a lifeline as Bokuto held him, one hand moving up to rest on the back of his head.
Kuroo didn’t know how long they stood there. He cried and cried, then cried some more for good measure until he could finally breathe again.
Somehow they made their way back home. After being reassured that everything was fine Bokuto went to his room to change. Kuroo glared at his ruined shoes as he tossed them straight into the garbage.
He was in an exhausted daze as he changed into a dry shirt and shorts, it was like someone had poured lead into his veins. He shuffled the short distance to the bathroom and picked up the hairdryer. He didn’t really like using it because it made his hair look flat and weird, but it was better than being cold and wet.
By the time he was nice and dry he came out to find Bokuto sitting on the couch with two mugs of hot chocolate and an ear splitting grin. The TV was playing some random channel quietly and he could hear the laundry machine’s quiet whirring.
It was all so domestic and familiar, he could barely believe what had just happened.
Bokuto loved him.
Like, he said the big ‘L’ word.
Love.
Kuroo walked over to the couch.
“Oikawa’s gonna be so jealous!”
Well, out of all the things he expected Bokuto to say, that certainly wasn’t on list. Then again, he never really knew just what was going to pop out of Bokuto’s mouth. Kuroo frowned as he sat down and took a mug. “Oikawa?”
Bokuto laughed. “’Cause we totally just out–drama–ed the way he got together with Iwaizumi!”
Kuroo snorted and almost spat out his drink. That was very true.
I wonder if this means we can cuddle.
I really want to cuddle dammit.
He glanced over at Bokuto and found him staring with a determined expression.
“This means we’re dating now, right?”
Kuroo actually spat out his drink that time, thankfully back into the mug. He felt his face heating up and wiped his mouth on the neck of his shirt. “Uh yes? If you want to?”
Bokuto thumped his mug down on the coffee table. “Definitely! Absolutely! 100% Yes!” He reached over and plucked Kuroo’s mug out of his hands and put it on the table as well. “Now prepare yourself cause we have a fucking eternity of snuggling to catch up on!”
Kuroo grinned until his face hurt and let Bokuto shove him over and flop onto his chest like an oversized puppy. He wrapped his arms around his boyfriend and got a pleased hum in reply.
“Kuroo can you say it?”
“Hm?”
“I read it in your letter, which was very cute by the way I’m gonna get it laminated and framed, but I want to hear it too!”
Oh.
That.
Kuroo felt his face heat right back up as he opened his mouth to reply, but the embarrassment kept him from making any noise other than a harassed groan.
“Kuroooooooooo…” Bokuto whined into his shoulder and trailed his fingers lower to Kuroo’s hips.
“Bo, hold up a minute–!”
Kuroo exploded with laughter as Bokuto wiggled his fingers. He was merciless, going for all the worst spots right from the start.
“Come on!”
“Okay fine! I love you, you ass!” Kuroo wheezed and the tension he didn’t even realize was still in him evaporated. Startled, he looked up at Bokuto who had a soft smile on his face. Slightly irritated about being read so well, Kuroo leaned up and pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose.
Blushing was pretty fun to watch on someone else.
Bokuto turned red and buried his face back in Kuroo’s shirt. “Not fair!”
Kuroo grinned and pet his hair.
He was so damn happy.