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Kuroo thought Kenma had just been being dramatic when he said he was going to get a fever after his first middle school match.
“When have I ever been dramatic?” Kenma asked with a small sniffle. His whole face was flushed, and his blanket was pulled up all the way to his chin. Kuroo floundered, not sure how to make up for calling his bedridden best friend dramatic while he was so clearly ill.
“…I mean yeah, but you got sick last time too!” Kuroo exclaimed by way of explanation, and Kenma shot him an irritated glare. It lacked its usual strength.
Not that Kuroo meant to bring up how often Kenma got fevers, but it did worry him a little. The first time he’d gotten one, Kuroo thought it had just been a coincidence. Sure, his dad had said it was because of the training camp they went to, but that had only lasted a single day! He'd thought there was no way Kenma had gotten a fever just from that.
But now, Kuroo wasn’t so sure.
He was at least grateful that this time Kenma’s parents had allowed him into his room. Last time, he’d been forced to sneak up and peak in, and had gotten in so much trouble with his dad when he’d been caught.
But if anything, it had taught both their families that there really was no point in trying to separate the two, even in the case of a fever. However, Kenma’s persistent glare had him worrying he may be kicked out sooner rather than later.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel bad,” Kuroo said. “I just don’t know what to do and I'm worried.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not quitting volleyball and you can’t really do anything,” Kenma replied, though he did finally drop the glare. Kuroo tried to say that he wasn’t worried about Kenma quitting volleyball, but Kenma kept talking. “It’ll go away on its own time and with a little care from my mom. That’s what she always says anyways.”
Kuroo nodded in agreement, even if he didn’t really get that. He hadn’t gotten sick in a while, but all he could remember from when it happened was his grandparents constantly doting over him. But Kozume-san was the best, so she had to know what she was talking about. She was always letting Kuroo help her bake pies and was never annoyed with how often he came over. She probably knew exactly what to do and was working on it right now.
Wait, that’s it!
Kuroo quickly announced, “I’ll be right back!” before bolting from Kenma’s room and down the stairs towards the kitchen. He skidded to a stop at the entryway and looked up to see Kenma’s mother looking down at him in surprise. He dropped into a deep bow and clapped his hands together.
“Kozuma-san, please let me help you take care of Kenma!”
He stayed bent over until the sound of laughter reached his ears. He peaked up through his hair to see Kenma’s mother laughing with her hand pressed against her mouth.
“Tetsu-kun, you don’t have to be so formal,” she said through her laughter. She kneeled down so that she was at eye level with him and gave him a warm smile. “I would love your help today. Why don’t you wash your hands, and we can get started right away?”
Kuroo beamed in response and went to wash his hands with extreme diligence. When he returned, Kenma’s mom was waiting patiently, her sleeves rolled up high on her arms.
“Let’s get to work!”
Kuroo listened attentively, and followed every direction given to him with care. He filled the kettle with the exact amount of water he was told, added the measure of green onions to the soup at just the right time, scooped exactly one cup of rice onto a small bowl, and set the tray with napkins and chopsticks.
When he offered to carry the tray up, Kenma’s mom told him it might be just a bit too heavy for him. However, before he could begin to feel sad, she told him she had a very special role for him.
“This is Kenma’s favorite tea – it’s apple cinnamon,” she whispered to him very solemnly with a large mug in her hand. He listened with rapt attention. “You see, he’s not going to want to eat his food but it’s very important that he does. So it’ll be your job to make sure he eats it all, and to defend the mug until he finishes. Once his tray is clear, then you can give him the tea.”
She paused for a moment, and then tilted her head towards Kuroo.
“Can you make sure you do this for me?”
Kuroo straightened his spine and took the mug from her with a grin. “Absolutely, Kozume-san!”
She smiled at his response and allowed him to lead her back to Kenma’s room. When they opened the door, Kuroo saw Kenma jolt and pull the covers over his head.
“Kenma, you know you’re not allowed to play games when you get sick,” Kenma’s mother chastised as she made her way to his side. Kuroo made note of the rule. “You know it gives you headaches.”
“My headaches don’t get that bad,” Kenma mumbled, but he did obediently put his handheld away. He scrunched his nose at the tray of food in his mother's hands and his face stayed like that until his eyes got to Kuroo.
Or more specifically what was in Kuroo’s hand.
“What’s that?” he asked, leaning over. Kenma’s mother gently pushed him back against his pillows and placed the tray over his lap while Kuroo hid the mug behind his back.
“You’ll find out once you finish your food,” he said proudly. When Kenma’s mom sent him a thankful smile, he puffed his chest out even more.
Kenma narrowed his eyes at the both of them.
“I’m going to come back up with a cold towel in 30 minutes, so you better be done eating by then,” Kenma’s mother said pointedly. She left the room with a kiss to Kenma’s forehead and a pet to Kuroo’s head. On her way out the door she called out, “Tetsu-kun, I’ll teach you the best way to place the towel when I come back.”
Kuroo’s smile widened. He turned to tell Kenma all the things he’d done to help with the food, but Kenma’s suspicious look stopped him cold.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Why are you in cahoots with my mom?”
“Huh?”
Kenma huffed, and finally started picking at his food. Kuroo desperately wanted to let him know that he had scooped the rice he was picking at. “You disappear out of nowhere for like 20 minutes, and when you come back your scheming with my mom about making me eat. Why?”
“Oh that!” Kuroo said, feeling relieved. “Your mom is teaching me how to take care of you.”
Kenma froze with his chopsticks halfway to his face.
“Hey, don’t drop the rice, I worked really hard to make it look all pretty in the bowl!”
“You scooped my rice?” Kenma asked in disbelief. He shook his head and placed his chopstick back down. “No, forget that. Why is my mom teaching you how to take care of me?”
“This way I can take care of you too!”
Kenma’s entire face went red all over, even his ears. Kuroo’s eyes widened at the sight.
Was his fever getting worse?
“Why would you need to take care of me?”
Kuroo sighed at Kenma’s seemingly endless list of questions and sat on the edge of the bed. Why was Kenma so dense about this?
“Because I’m the one who got you into volleyball. So, if you’re going to keep playing, then I’m the one who’s going to take care of you when you get sick.”
Kenma still looked frozen, so Kuroo pushed insistently at his tray. “Come on, you have to finish your food so you can feel better, okay.”
And to Kuroo’s surprise, Kenma listened.
2.
Kenma turned onto his side in his bed, trying to find a more comfortable position. From his room, he could hear his mother telling Kuroo about his fever. He could also hear the worry and disbelief in Kuroo’s voice. He curled himself into an even tighter ball.
It had been almost two years since the last time Kenma had gotten a fever from playing volleyball. While they used to be frequent occurrences, as his body got used to the sport, the fevers started to diminish.
And while Kenma did miss the excuse to bundle up under countless blankets and secretly play his games all day, he had never been a fan about how warm his body got, or how sweaty he’d be all over, or the shortness of breath that would wake him up in the middle of the night. It was like playing volleyball but without any of the strategic benefits.
So, when he’d woken up this morning with his face burning and dehydrated as all hell, he’d been initially disappointed.
But then, when he realized that having a fever meant he wouldn’t have to deal with the upperclassmen on the team, he started to lean into a bit more. He’d feel more guilty about swaying in place as his mother worriedly checked his temperature if it wasn’t for the fact that he was pretty sure it was his upperclassmen’s fault anyway.
He did feel guilty about leaving Kuroo to walk to school alone at the last minute, but if he would have texted him earlier, there’d be a chance that he’d waste the morning trying to take care of Kenma instead of going to morning practice. And Kuroo couldn’t miss any practices if he was going to be captain next year.
So, he’d let his mother handle it. She would make sure Kuroo knew that Kenma was not about to keel over and pester him about going to school until he relented.
And Kenma would ignore the buzzing of his phone and attempt to get some rest.
Not that he had a lot of luck.
His dreams were strange and fever induced, mixing his most recent fantasy RPG with his stress about the volleyball team. He woke up every couple of hours feeling more exhausted than he’d been before. He was in the middle of a particularly weird one where a demon king who looked remarkably like his vice-captain was chasing after him when a gentle knocking woke him up.
Kenma rolled over to face the door with squinted eyes. He was pretty sure his mother wasn’t supposed to be home from work yet, but he doubted an intruder would knock before invading his room.
He watched as his door creeped open, and Kuroo’s head peaked into his room. Kenma’s eyes widened. What was he doing here?
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Kuroo whispered as he came into the room with a tray full of food and a large cup of water. Kenma had no idea why he was whispering since he was clearly already awake. “I just figured you hadn’t had anything since breakfast and were probably hungry.”
And now that he mentioned it, Kenma was incredibly hungry. But what he wanted to know was why Kuroo was in his room instead of…Kenma wasn’t actually sure. He had no idea what time it was, what with his blinds shut, curtains closed, and phone nowhere to be seen.
He should probably invest in a bedside clock.
Either way, without knowing the time, Kenma couldn’t really scold Kuroo for his presence without revealing he’d just been sleeping all day.
“I actually didn’t have breakfast,” Kenma said roughly before grimacing at the condition of his voice. He gestured halfheartedly at the tray of food his mother had brought him before going to work that was left completely untouched save for the empty glass of water.
“Kenma,” Kuroo admonished, all whispering thrown out the window. “You’re not going to get better if you don’t give your body energy to fight off your fever.”
“But everything tastes like dirt when I get like this,” Kenma complained. He caught the way his voice tilted into a whine towards the end of his sentence, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. If there was one time that he was allowed to be petulant, it was this.
Kuroo shook his head fondly at Kenma and switched out the trays on his bedside. Kenma’s nose twitched as he caught the scent of warm cinnamon and leaned over to peer at the tray.
“This is your apple cinnamon tea,” Kuroo said as he pointed to a large mug. Kenma immediately went to grab at it, but Kuroo picked it up from the tray before he got the chance. “You may have it after you finish your food.”
Kenma didn’t bother fighting the pout that appeared on his lips, and Kuroo’s responding laugh just caused it to intensify. With a resigned sigh, he sat up properly on his bed and pulled a small bowl of soup from the tray and brought it up to his lips.
He refused to even acknowledge Kuroo’s pleased smile.
“Even if it is kind of adorable, it’s also a little worrying how easily you get fevers,” Kuroo said as he pushed a strand of hair behind Kenma’s ear. He had a teasing grin on his face, but Kenma could see the concern in his eyes.
Didn’t mean he was going to let him get away with calling him adorable.
“You know never I used to get fevers before I met you.”
Kuroo’s face dropped.
“…Correlation doesn’t imply causation?”
Kenma laughed at the expression on Kuroo’s face, and the other boy softened before his eyes. He trailed his fingers from behind Kenma’s ears to his forehead and frowned as he felt the heat emanating from him.
Kenma was very thankful he could blame the fever for said heat.
“You really do have a bad fever,” Kuroo said with a resigned sigh, and Kenma squinted his eyes up at him.
“What do you mean ‘really do’,” he asked as he placed the now empty bowl on the tray.
“I just thought – or well I guess I hoped – that your mom had just been exaggerating everything,” Kuroo confessed with a shrug. “If not, then that means that the third-years really did bother you enough to give you a fever yesterday.”
Kuroo’s eyes went dark as he spoke, and Kenma reached out for his arm before he could think about it.
“It’s not that big a deal,” Kenma said even though it did suck immensely that all this was happening. “Picking a fight isn’t going to make things better. You becoming captain is.”
“I wasn’t going to pick any fights,” Kuroo insisted. He grabbed another plate off the tray and pushed it towards Kenma, who accepted it with a frown. “I could just talk to them a little…”
“Don’t do that either,” Kenma said around a mouthful of food. “I said I’d stay on the team, so I’m staying on the team okay. One little fever isn’t enough to bring me down.”
Kuroo was quiet as Kenma finished the plate in front of him. He reached for the cup of water, and Kuroo brought it to him while grabbing the plate with his other hand.
“I know I asked you to stay,” Kuroo started as Kenma took several large gulps of water. “But it seems unfair when you’re even getting sick from it.”
“I've gotten fevers from volleyball before,” Kenma deadpanned as he whipped his mouth with his sleeve. Kuroo sent him a flat look and handed him a napkin.
“Yeah from playing, not from assholes targeting you at practice.”
“Kuro, it’s fine,” Kenma said with a sigh, He was eyeing the tea that Kuroo had a hand on and wondered if he’d eaten enough for his prize. “I won’t do what I don’t want to.” Kuroo opened his mouth to protest, but Kenma cut him off. “No, I don’t want to deal with the upperclassmen – that’s true. But I do want to play on a team with you as my captain. So, I’ll go through it as long as that’s the end result.”
Kuroo looked at him as if he was stunned. Kenma rolled his eyes and made grabby hands at the mug of tea. He smiled as Kuroo automatically gave it to him, and he closed his eyes as he took a long sip. At the sound of Kuroo’s shuddering exhale, he opened them again.
“Kenma, I – you, how –”
“So, make that the end results Kuro,” Kenma interrupted, graciously sparing Kuroo from his stuttering. “Be captain.”
Kuroo looked at Kenma disbelievingly until a smile finally broke across his face.
“Yeah. Whatever you want.”
3.
Kuroo wasn’t going to pretend like he was over the moon with how nationals played out.
Was he happy he got to make Coach Nekomata’s dream of the battle at the trash dump happen? Was he proud of his team and how hard they’d managed to play after every round? Was he absolutely ecstatic that Kenma had said that he had fun and had even thanked him for introducing him to volleyball?
All yes, without a doubt.
But no one was prepared for their final high school volleyball match, and Kuroo wished that he was one of the ones who still had the opportunity to play.
This team with these specific players meant the world to Kuroo and he wanted nothing more than to be able to play with them all the way to the end. He wasn’t quite ready to admit that it was all over.
And now he was standing at a balcony like an old man reminiscing on his glory days while his fellow third years were out and about and his juniors were around doing who knows what.
“Kuroo-san.”
Kuroo whirled around at the whisper of his name. At first glance he didn’t see anyone but looking more closely he saw a small head poking from behind a planter.
“Shibayama?”
“Shh,” the libero hushed as he looked over his shoulder. He waited a beat before hurriedly waving Kuroo over.
“Why are you shushing me?” Kuroo asked bemusedly. He did at least lower his voice to a whisper. “And why are you behind a planter.”
“Because if Kenma-san sees me, he’ll kill me!”
Kuroo had to try incredibly hard to hold back a snort at that. The amount of fear Kenma managed to instill in the first years was incredible, especially considering how much Kenma detested upperclassmen power dynamics.
“Kenma’s not here, he’s not going to see you. Why are you hiding from him anyway?”
Shibyama still looked wary and scanned his eyes around the room one last time before looking back to Kuroo.
“He didn’t want anyone telling you this,” he started, and alarm bells began ringing in Kuroo’s head. “But he definitely has a really bad fever. But every time one of us goes to get you, he gives us this look.”
Shibayama didn’t expand upon that, but Kuroo could imagine the look he was talking about very clearly. But onto the more pressing matters – why didn’t Kenma want him to find out?
“Thank you Shibayama, I’ll go check on him.”
“You can’t go now; he’ll know it was me!”
“Then I suggest you hide,” he responded dryly. Shibayama looked up at him with wide eyes before he was bolting in the opposite direction of the rooms. This time Kuroo did allow himself to snort.
Kuroo made his way back into the building, confusion about the situation bothering him. He was worried about Kenma, yeah, but he was more focused on the fact that he’d gone out of his way to make sure Kuroo didn’t find about his fever.
He went into the first room they had reserved and was surprised to find it completely empty. Kenma’s things were completely untouched, and it seemed like no one had been in there in hours. A loud thump came from the room next door, followed by a cry that sounded suspiciously like Lev, and Kuroo raised his eyebrows.
Was Kenma so desperate to avoid him that he was hiding out in the same room where Lev was staying? He left his room and approached the room where Lev, the rest of the first years, and a couple of second years were staying. He could hear noises from outside the door and figured this was his best bet.
Kuroo knocked on the door, and all the sounds from inside the room hushed.
Subtle.
He waited patiently until the door cracked open, and Inuoka peered around it. Then his eyes went wide, and he glanced back into the room before putting his finger to his lips.
“It’s just Shibiyama,” he called out as he opened the door to Kuroo. He barely had time to step into the room before Inuoka was bolting out the door and down the hallway. Kuroo sighed as he made his way further into the room until he saw a small lump in the corner surrounded by Yamamoto and Lev.
“Kenma-san, if you don’t take medicine, how will your fever go down?”
“He doesn’t usually need medicine when he gets like this,” Kuroo spoke up, relishing in the way it caused both the players and the Kenma-sized lump to jolt. He rolled his eyes at the look of terror on Yamamoto and Lev’s faces and waved them away. “You two can head out, I can take it from here.”
They both hesitated, and in that time Kenma sat up from under his blankets to give Kuroo a truly fear inspiring glare.
They were gone soon after.
“Who snitched?”
“Like that’s what I want to talk to you about,” Kuroo said as he made his way to kneel by Kenma’s side. He noted that he was surrounded by many bottles of all kinds of different drinks. It was like someone had read that he needed fluids and bought every type imaginable. It was probably Lev. “Why didn’t you want anyone to find me for this?”
Kenma groaned and pulled his blankets over his head. Kuroo tried prodding at him, but the other boy remained unmoved.
“You’re going to overheat in there,” Kuroo pointed out as he settled more comfortably on the ground. “And I’m not leaving until you talk.”
A muffled sound came from Kenma, and Kuroo tried leaning closer to where he assumed his head was to make out what he was saying.
“Huh?”
He was definitely able to make out an irritated sigh, and it was all the warning he got before the blankets were being thrown over Kenma’s head again.
And Kuroo must have been pretty close at figuring where Kenma was because suddenly he was only inches away from Kuroo’s face, looking at him with annoyance painted all over his expression.
Kuroo wished he had a fever to blame for the blush that was surely spreading across his own face.
“I said,” Kenma said grumpily in that tone he got when he was sick that Kuroo loved to tease him about. “That you should be out. In the city. Exploring and adventuring or whatever.”
“I should be out exploring Tokyo. The city I’ve lived in for a decade.”
And Kuroo wasn’t trying to be difficult on purpose, but he genuinely didn’t understand where Kenma was coming from. Kenma clearly found this frustrating.
“This is your last and only time at nationals,” Kenma stressed, and okay, ouch, thanks for that reminder. “I’m sure there are plenty of other things you’d rather be doing than taking care of me. As in pretty much anything else.”
“I mean all I was doing before Shiba-, I mean someone, told me about this was moping on the balcony,” Kuroo replied, trying to ignore the way Kenma’s eyes narrowed at his slip up and sending a small prayer up for the little libero. “Playing nurse for you is much better than that, trust me.”
Kenma scrunched his nose at the phrase, and Kuroo laughed. He started cleaning the area around him, straightening the many bottles, and pushing away the damp towels. He kept his eyes trained on his task as he added, “I mean unless you don’t want me to stay.”
“You know that’s not the issue,” Kenma huffed immediately as he did his part to straighten up. Kuroo smiled as he watched him fix his pillows and readjust his blanket – all while Kuroo’s heart was fluttering over Kenma’s words.
“Then if there’s no place either of us would rather be, then I don’t see the problem,” Kuroo said. He leaned back and nearly slipped as his hand landed on yet another bottle. He decided that since Kenma had a fever, he would ignore the way he was laughing at him.
“You and your fellow underclassmen really are something though,” he said, picking up the stray bottles and snorting when he saw it was a sugary energy drink. Exactly what one needs for a fever. “Yaku did say I had too much faith that you’d make it back here next year…”
And Kuroo was really just teasing, he had complete faith that his team would continue being successful without him. He paused as Kenma tugged on his arm and looked up to see Kenma wearing one of the most determined looks he’d ever seen on him.
His heart skipped several beats.
“When we make it to nationals next year,” Kenma said, his voice low but undeniably dangerous. Kuroo’s mouth felt way too dry. “I’ll buy you a ticket to the tournament myself.”
He released Kuroo, leaning back against his pillows but never breaking his gaze.
Kuroo could only nod.
4.
For all the horror the Kuroo complained about his third year, Kenma honestly thought it wasn’t really that bad.
On the team, his responsibility was split pretty evenly between him calling out and devising new strategies, and Taketora keeping the team’s morale up. It was a good mix of leadership, and that, combined with some truly impressive first years, meant that Kenma wasn’t often worried about the state of the team.
His classes were harder, but they were harder in the way classes always got harder as you get older. There wasn’t a big jump in difficulty, and Kenma had always been pretty good at getting decent grades. Sure, it sometimes sucked that Kuroo wasn’t there to directly explain some of the harder materials to him, but it wasn’t like he disappeared completely.
In fact, he’d been able to call Kuroo pretty much any time he’d needed him. He had his class and practice schedule, and as long as he was conscious of that, when he called, Kuroo picked up. And the same went for him too. So, while it didn’t match having him by his side, it was enough to get him through the year.
And Kenma was determined that it was only going to last a year.
And that’s when his third year started to take a more hectic turn.
Kenma was aware that he could get into some pretty good colleges with the grades he had. There were lots around Tokyo that would offer him the ability to study computer science, and he wouldn’t have to worry about cramming for their entrance exams.
But Kuroo went to one of the best universities in the city. It was large and selective, and their entrance exams had a reputation for bringing students to tears.
And that’s where Kenma was determined to go.
And it wasn’t like Kenma wasn’t looking at other factors. It was an incredible school, and they had an excellent comp sci department that even had courses that would allow him to learn about video game design. His parents would definitely be proud of him if he got in, and it was close enough that he could still visit them from time to time.
So, it wasn’t like it wasn’t a good school for him. It’s just that he would’ve settled for another one if Kuroo hadn’t gone there himself. But Kuroo did have that effect on him.
So he buckled down early into his third year and began studying intensively. He cut down on the amount of games he played, stayed up to study later, and made sure to pay sharp attention during class.
He felt the toll it was taking on his body, but he figured he could take it. After nationals last year, he was sure his body could take pretty much any amount of stress without it reacting too poorly.
A month later he was unfortunately proven wrong.
“I told you you’ve been working yourself too hard,” Fukunaga sighed as he sat by Kenma’s bed. He and Yamamoto had stopped by to drop off notes for Kenma, for which he was grateful for. He could do without the lecturing though.
“When you put this much effort into something, you need to remember to take breaks,” Yamamoyo added from his place at Kenma’s desk. He was arranging his notes, and most likely poking through his stuff.
“You’re the last person who gets to lecture me on that,” Kenma called out before letting out a big yawn. They both shot him a worried look, and then Fukunaga reached into his bag. He pulled out a large thermos, and to Kenma’s surprise, handed it to him.
Kenma looked from the thermos and back to Fukunaga a couple of times in confusion before slowly taking it from him. It was big enough that he had to carry it with both hands until he settled it on his lap. He carefully twisted the top off and was pleasantly surprised when the smell of apple cinnamon wafted from inside.
“Aw, you’re already looking better,” Yamamoto teased, and Kenma wasn’t sure what the expression he was making looked like, but he was sure it wasn’t enough to warrant the harassment.
“Kuroo-san did say it was his favorite brand,” Fukunaga added. Kenma rounded on him immediately, and Yamamoto turned to stare at him in horror.
“Fukunaga, you idiot, you weren’t supposed to mention that!”
“You told Kuro,” Kenma demanded. Yamamoto leaned away at the volume of his voice, but Fukunaga just rolled his eyes.
“Yes, we told your best friend you were sick. We’re the worst people in the world.”
Kenma glared for a couple moments more before slumping back down onto his bed. He didn’t have the energy to maintain it anyway.
He had to save it for the call that Kuroo was no doubt about to make.
After chatting for a little while more, and making sure he had everything he needed, Yamamoto and Fukunaga left with promises to return tomorrow if Kenma was still sick.
He smiled softly to himself. While he missed Kuroo every day, the friends he had here really helped to ease the ache. He was really lucky to have them in his life.
Ugh. That was much too sweet a thought. Must be the fever.
Sighing, Kenma sat up and reached for the thermos on his nightstand. He hadn’t been able to drink any earlier because it had still been too hot, but now it looked to be just the perfect temperature.
He smirked as he pulled the drink closer to his chest. One good thing about Kuroo leaving for college was that he wasn’t able to regulate when Kenma got his tea. He didn’t have to eat mountains of food and could skip ahead to his favorite part.
Just as the thermos was about to touch his lips, his phone began to ring.
Kenma startled, and then hissed as his drink nearly spilled. Glaring at his phone, he checked the caller ID only to find that it was Kuroo.
Incredible.
“I hope you know that you have the worst timing.”
“Why, hello Kenma, it’s great to hear that you’re not on your deathbed directly from you and not your incredibly loyal teammates.”
“They’re definitely not loyal to me,” Kenma muttered as he placed the thermos back on his desk with a wistful look. He was unable to balance holding it up and holding his phone at the same time, so the drink would have to wait.
“They’re loyal to your wellbeing Kenma, which is the most important thing,” Kuroo said lightly, before his voice became more serious. “But really, are you doing okay?”
“I’m honestly fine, it’s just a fever,” Kenma replied with a wave of his hand before he remembered that Kuroo couldn’t see him. He cleared his throat and let his hand fall limply to his side. “You know the routine: a couple of days and I’ll be back to normal.”
Kuroo hummed, and Kenma let himself recline back on his pillows. Kuroo had to have known this and would probably end the call soon anyway. He’d probably help himself to a nap after finally getting his tea.
“So what happened then?”
Kenma furrowed his eyebrows and made a questioning sound.
“Well your fevers usually happen because your putting your body through a lot – and it’s usually something volleyball related. So, what is it?”
Kenma froze. He had no idea what to tell Kuroo. If he told him the truth, Kuroo would lecture for him for the rest of his life. Kuroo seemed to take the silence as a cue to continue.
“Because I heard that someone has been overworking themselves in studying for their entrance exams.”
Kenma was going to murder Yamamoto and Fukunaga in their sleep.
“Kenma,” Kuroo said softly, all teasing gone from his voice. “You don’t have to put yourself through this. If I knew how hard all this studying would be on you…”
“No, you don’t get to feel bad about going to an incredible university,” Kenma interrupted. He knew Kuroo was coming from a sweet place, but there was no way in hell he was going to let him get away with this. “It’s a good school, and there’s no harm in me trying my best to get in too.”
“So, there's no ulterior motive to your decision,” Kuroo said dryly and Kenma snapped.
“Of course there is you idiot,” Kenma said sharply. He took a calming breath and stared at the thermos on his desk. The thermos that was only there because of Kuroo. He softened his voice and continued. “Kuro, I promise I’ll take better care of myself. But don’t tell me not to try getting in. I want to go there, I,” and Kenma exhaled shakily before almost whispering, “I want to be with you.”
He waited with bated breath for Kuroo’s response. They’ve been dancing around each other for ages now, and that was the closest Kenma had gotten to a confession yet. And while confessing over the phone wasn’t ideal, at this point he was willing to take what he could get.
“Kenma, I want to be with you too,” Kuroo said, and Kenma's breath caught in this throat. “I miss hanging out all the time like we used to just as much as you do.”
Kenma facepalmed.
“And I don’t want you to think I don’t want you to try coming here,” Kuroo continued, completely unaware of Kenma’s frustration. “If you promise you’ll take care of yourself, then of course I’m going to cheer you on.”
“Right,” Kenma said, suddenly feeling much too exhausted for this conversation. He sighed, and as it turned into a yawn halfway through, he couldn’t but be grateful for the timing. “I’m still pretty tired, so I’m going to rest some more.
“Okay, please let me know when you’re feeling better, so I don’t have to keep worrying,” Kenma rolled his eyes, “And let me know if you need help studying for the exams – I did take them y’know. And I want you here more than anything.”
Kenma squinted his eyes. Did Kuroo even realize how he sounded sometimes?
“Right,” he repeated again. “Goodbye Kuro.”
He barely let Kuroo finish his goodbye before he hung up the phone with a defeated sigh. He didn’t know how to make it any clearer that he was interested in Kuroo – without an outright confession, which was the ultimate last resort because how embarrassing would that be – but Kuroo was being much too dense about this.
Though he could be being a little unfair. He pulled his thermos to his face and smiled as he the scent calms his nerves. Kuroo could be an idiot sometimes, but he was also the best person Kenma knew so he was willing to wait a little longer.
But God did he wish that he would just figure his shit out.
5.
When Kenma sneezed as he was exiting his lecture hall, he didn’t think much of it. The building his class was in was one of the oldest in the university, and it was notorious for its many dusty corners.
When his throat started to tickle while he was at the cafe just outside of campus, waiting for Kuroo to wrap up practice so they could go home together, he figured it was because he’d drunk his hot chocolate too quickly. His tongue was still a little raw from it as well.
But when he stepped into his apartment with Kuroo right on his trail, and his body started feeling warm all over, he realized what was happening.
“Kuro, I think I’m getting sick.”
And then he promptly regretted saying anything.
“What?” Kuroo frantically asked, coming up to Kenma and pressing the back of his hand against his forehead. He barely left it on for a second before letting out a sharp ‘tch’. Kenma rolled his eyes. He was worse than his mother. “What are your symptoms?”
“If you keep this up, the headache will be at the top of the list,” he said dryly as he tried pushing Kuroo away from. He ended up propelling himself away from Kuroo instead, staggering a few steps and pressing his own hand to his head as his skull throbbed.
Huh. Maybe he was more spot on with the headache thing than he’d thought.
“Kenma, you’re shaking,” Kuroo said gently, coming up to gently take his hands in his own. And while it was really only his hands that were shaking, he could recognize he should probably be taking this a little more seriously than he was.
He dutifully listed all his symptoms he was feeling, how long he’d been feeling them, and sat patiently on the kitchen counter as Kuroo disappeared into the bathroom with a promise to be back soon. When he did return, Kenma was completely shocked to see the first aid kit in his hand.
“We have one of those? How did I not know that?”
“Kenma you probably couldn’t tell me where a single vegetable was located in our fridge.”
And Kenma only let the comment slide because he liked the way Kuroo sounded when he said, ‘our fridge’.
He opened his mouth as Kuroo placed a thermometer under his tongue, and watched as Kuroo pulled out a large glass, a mug, and a familiar package of tea.
“When did you get that?” Kenma asked, though the question was a bit slurred due to the plastic stick in his mouth. Kuroo seemed to understand anyway.
He looked down at the box with a fond smile before pulling out the kettle and filling it with water. “I’ve had this since my first year up here. I figured it was better to be prepared in case you ever got sick during one of your visits.”
Kenma’s heart skipped several beats just as a small 'ding' came from the thermometer. He pulled it out himself, and grimaced when he read the numbers displayed.
“37.9”
Kuroo clicked his tongue and Kenma looked up from the thermometer to him.
“Well you already ate earlier, so we don’t have to worry about that,” he said with a sigh and his hands on his hips. “Why don’t you change into something more comfortable and I’ll bring the tea and some medicine to you in a bit.”
Kenma nodded in agreement, slipping off the counter and walking down the hall into his room. He slipped out of his day clothes and dug around in his drawer until he found a pair of comfy sweat and one of Kuroo’s old long sleeve shirts. He was just climbing into his bed when Kuroo came in, a small tray laden with two cups of water, a mug, and several bottles of medicine in his hands.
“Kuro, I’m sick, not about to die,” Kenma said as he eyed the array of pills. Kuroo snorted as he placed the tray down and began rearranging the pillows around Kenma so that they supported his back more.
“I just brought a couple of different options so you could decide what you wanted to take,” he explained before straightening back up and leveling Kenma with a look. “So what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on,” Kenma replied easily as he shifted away from the center of the bed.
“You can’t just avoid the question, Kenma.”
“I’m not,” Kenma said as he finally settled into his spot. He then reached over and yanked Kuroo’s arm until he landed on the bed beside him. He gave a soft grunt, and as he resituated himself with an incredulous look at Kenma, Kenma continued speaking. “And I’m also not going through anything crazy.”
“But what about—”
“No.”
“The semester just started—”
“Not that either.”
“But have you considered—”
Kuroo was interrupted by a single finger being placed on his lips. He almost went cross-eyed trying to look at it.
“Kuro, sometimes I just get sick,” Kenma said with a shrug. “The common cold is a thing that exists.”
Kuroo felt himself deflate. He groaned as he collapsed against the headboard beside Kenma.
“I just, I worry that you’re always getting sick because of me,” Kuroo admitted. He trained his eyes on where the blanket folded over, so he didn’t have to meet Kenma’s eyes. “You’re always pushing yourself to your limits for me, and I just feel really guilty about it.”
Kuroo sighed and absentmindedly traced the pattern on Kenma’s blanket with his eyes.
This was something that had been worrying Kuroo for a while now but was really cemented after last year. He’d thought that Kenma’s volleyball related fevers were single instance situations, but how sick he’d gotten studying for his exams made Kuroo worry about his influence on Kenma. He didn’t want to be the reason he was constantly feeling so ill.
He was jolted from his thoughts by a flick to his forehead. He turned to shoot an unimpressed look at Kenma, but he was already shooting one at him.
“You don’t have anything to be guilty about,” Kenma said, exasperation laced heavily in his voice. “Kuro, I made those choices myself. Yes, you asked me to play volleyball, but I was the one who agreed. You didn’t even ask me to come to this school – so you don’t get to feel guilty about that one time either.”
“But –”
“I once joked that I didn’t get fevers before I met you, and that’s true,” Kenma interrupted. “I also didn’t have as many friends, and never would have ever discovered how much fun volleyball could be or be at one of the top universities in the nation. I got fevers because you pushed me to see how much I really could do, and I think that’s a small price to pay for everything I’ve got right now.”
Kuroo looked down at Kenma, his mind blank except for the last words he’d just said.
“Everything you’ve got right now,” he repeated before running his tongue across his lips. Kenma remained silent, but that was probably for the best. “I’m assuming I’m included in that.”
Kenma just kept staring at Kuroo, his gaze getting more and more expectant with every moment that passed. Finally, unable to bear it, he leaned forward until their foreheads were touching, not even caring about how warm Kenma’s felt against him.
“Kenma, I really want to kiss you right now.”
Kenma looked up at him, and the side of his lips twitched.
“I mean, fair warning, I’m sick.”
“Is that your only point of protest?
“It’s not a protest at all.”
And with that Kuroo leaned forward and sealed his lips against Kenma’s. Kenma’s hand immediately began pulling on his shirt and before he knew it, he was leaning over completely over Kenma. He broke apart from his lips to pepper kisses all across his face, trying to kiss every inch of skin that was flushed.
“I’ve wanted to do that for forever,” he breathed in between kisses.
“I’ve wanted you to do that for forever,” Kenma sighed in response. “It's about time you finally got it together.”
“How can you still be so snarky right now?”
“Mm, less words, more kisses.”
+1
Kuroo doesn’t get sick.
Well obviously, he’ll sometimes get a little sniffly and his throat will be a little sore, but he’s always been able to slap on a face mask and power through it. The last time he’s been so sick he was bedridden was when he had been in elementary school.
“'Kenma I’m not sick’, ‘Kenma I’m barely even warm’, ‘Kenma you’re overreacting’,” Kenma mocked nasally as he placed a cool towel onto Kuroo’s head. Kuroo fluttered his eyes at the cool pressure before Kenma’s words registered and he looked up to glare at his boyfriend. “That’s you. That's what you sounded like.”
“Why are you so mean to me?” Kuroo whined with a huff. Kenma gave him a flat look, and he quickly averted his gaze.
Okay so perhaps Kuroo hadn’t been the easiest to take care of. There was a chance that Kenma'd had to drag him back into bed that morning, sit on him to force medicine and tea down his throat, and practically wrestle him out of his work clothes and into some pajamas.
But it wasn’t like Kuroo was being difficult on purpose – he really hadn’t thought much of his symptoms when he’d woken up. And after a bit of rest, he really didn’t think much of them now.
“I’m not—”
“Kuro, I swear if you say I’m not sick one more time I will smother you with a pillow.”
“ That sick.” A sneeze. “Or at least I thought I wasn’t.”
“I did warn you that kissing me while I was sick wasn’t a good idea,” Kenma said as he piled all the empty plates on the tray to take back to the kitchen later. He slid on the bed next to him, and Kuroo took the opportunity to rest his head on Kenma’s shoulder.
“You did not warn me,” Kuroo grumbled as he wrapped his arms around Kenma's middle. “You mentioned it exactly once and then practically encouraged me to kiss you.”
“Sorry I didn’t think I needed to reiterate how germs worked to the guy studying biochemistry,” Kenma deadpanned. Kuroo grumbled into his neck, but then sighed as Kenma brought up his hand to run through his hair.
Kenma then started humming something absentmindedly, a tune Kuroo thought he recognized from one of his games, and he felt himself begin to doze off.
His final thought before he completely fell asleep was how lucky he was to be with someone who he could take care of as well as they could take care of him.