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1.
Kenma is nine and he’s finally playing a new video game he’s wanted for a really long time. He’s excited – he can tell by the warmth spreading pleasantly in his body, so different from the cold hard lump weighing in the pit of his belly whenever he’s outside.
Kuroo barges in with a shout and points a finger of the hand that isn’t holding a volleyball at Kenma. It’s an accusation and Kenma shrinks in on himself involuntarily. He hates thinking of making Kuroo mad – Kuroo is his only friend. But then Kuroo’s shoulders relax and he grins at him, all teeth and mischief.
They play for a while outside and Kenma gets hit in the face a few times which makes Kuroo laugh. Kenma doesn’t cry, even though it hurts because he doesn’t want Kuroo to think he’s a wimp. But Kuroo scowls anyway, as he awkwardly pats Kenma’s face to brush off the dirt, like he’s disappointed in Kenma for being clumsy.
“I should be more careful,” huffs Kuroo and Kenma nods, his face blank. “And you should be more angry.”
2.
Kenma is twelve and he’s fiddling with a volleyball, trying to understand why it doesn’t excite him. He doesn’t mind playing but he doesn’t particularly feel like it either. He’s not very good at it yet but that’s not it – he can tell he’s getting better, will get better if he tries.
Kuroo has to clear his throat for Kenma to notice him in the door, arms crossed on his chest, leaning against the frame with a knowing smirk. Kenma puts down the ball and reaches for his PSP because he doesn’t want Kuroo to think something is wrong. Kuroo scoffs and invites himself in, ignoring Kenma’s soft, petulant whine.
Kuroo slumps down on the bed, knocking against Kenma just to aggravate him and picks up the abandoned ball before settling comfortably next to him. Kenma tenses slightly, afraid Kuroo will ask – Kenma doesn’t know what to say and even he knew, he’d be scared that Kuroo wouldn’t like what Kenma thinks.
“You don’t have to love it, you know,” says Kuroo and Kenma hums noncommittally. “It’s enough you don’t hate it.”
3.
Kenma is still twelve, has his hand down his pants for the first time and he’s not thinking about anything. He realizes he is supposed to think of something, someone, anyone, but no – he just wants to deal with the situation without making a fuss about it.
When Kuroo walks in, Kenma instinctively turns his head towards the source of the intrusive sound and looks at him. Just as Kuroo’s eyes widen in shock and his cheeks turn bright red, Kenma comes with a soft and surprised grunt. Kuroo immediately disappears behind the door but it’s too late – he saw everything.
Kenma’s ears are ringing and he isn’t sure if it’s from his orgasm or from the sheer mortification he feels. He may have not thought about anything when he was doing it but it doesn’t change the fact that he came while looking at Kuroo – his best friend, his onlyfriend. Kenma’s back hit his bed and he whimpers.
"I’ll come back later," shouts Kuroo from behind the door and Kenma wants to die. "Like, in ten years."
4.
Kenma is fourteen and he’s trying to sleep but his stomach hurts so bad he can’t. He hates being on the team without Kuroo and he regrets agreeing to stay and play even though he didn’t really want to. He hates being so alone every single day.
Kuroo closes the door behind himself quietly and Kenma doesn’t turn around to make sure it’s him. He knows even before he feels the mattress dip under someone else’s weight and Kuroo’s smell fills his nostrils. He doesn’t turn around because he doesn’t want Kuroo to see his face that shows how betrayed he feels when he shouldn’t.
Kuroo’s arms wrap around him as he plasters himself to Kenma’s back, fitting his chin on the top of Kenma’s head. Kenma sighs out as relief washes over him – Kuroo didn’t abandon him, Kuroo is still here, Kuroo will always be here. Kenma doesn’t feel so sick anymore with Kuroo pressed against him and rubbing his arm slowly.
“Just a few more months,” mutters Kuroo and Kenma closes his eyes. “Just hold on a while longer, Kenma.”
5.
Kenma is fifteen and he’s squinting at the label of a hair dye he bought on his way home from school. High school is awful and he wants to be invisible, disappear, vanish into the thin air. But he can’t so he has to blend in – do what everyone else does.
Kuroo bursts in with a loud greeting and Kenma drops the dye, startled. Kuroo laughs but soon his amused expression turns questioning. Kenma picks up the box and shrugs, turning his back to Kuroo. Because he thinks Kuroo will laugh at him if he explains, Kenma simply opens the box and goes about his initial plan like Kuroo isn’t even there.
Kuroo walks over and pries the dye from Kenma’s hands, narrowing his eyes at the tube. Kenma’s heart is hammering in his chest – he’s afraid Kuroo will ask questions, even though he never does, not when he knows Kenma doesn’t want to answer them. He looks up at Kuroo uncertainly and Kuroo winks at him, ruffling his hair.
“Here, let me do it,” he offers and Kenma can breathe again. “You’ll go bald if you do it, for all I know.”
+1
Kenma is barely seventeen and he’s hiding in his room from his own birthday party downstairs. Shouyuo is there, with his scary setter, and Kenma wants to be there but it’s a little too much for him right now. He needs some space to breathe.
He hears a knock on the door and he frowns. Only Kuroo could notice Kenma was gone so fast but Kuroo never knocks. He barges into Kenma’s room just like has barged into his life, his heart, his very soul. But when he hears Kuroo’s voice on the other side of the door, he flushes – something has changed after all, things are different now.
They kissed so now Kuroo is wary of him and it makes something deep inside Kenma wail in agony.
Kenma doesn’t know exactly how it happened. He supposes they have fallen into it naturally because everything that ever happens between them is just a flow, a never-ending circulation of something that keeps their shared organism going. Kuroo is a part of him, always has been, always will be – they are one.
At least they used to be.
"Why did you knock," asks Kenma flatly and Kuroo chuckles behind the door.
"Because you always give me shit for not doing it."
Kenma swallows thickly because it’s a lie. He says nothing and turns to his side, waiting. Everything is up to Kuroo now but Kenma has faith – he knows Kuroo and Kuroo knows him so everything will be alright.
And he’s right, he knows he is when Kuroo finally barges in like he always does and flops down the bed, sighing contentedly. They lie facing each other for a while, just looking and sharing air, because it’s familiar and safe. But then one of them moves, or maybe they both move at the same time, and they’re wrapped around each other and it’s safe and familiar too.
Kenma smiles and then squirms when Kuroo starts peppering his cheek with loud sloppy kisses until Kenma laughs and tries to push him away. Kuroo laughs too and tightens his hold on Kenma, pulling him closer, impossibly close, and Kenma sinks into it. He never wants to let go and he wants Kuroo to know this, so he says:
"Don’t ever knock again."