Chapter Text
As a somewhat-recognizable name in the streaming world, a pro-gamer known as Kodzuken, Kenma is used to the parade of ridiculous stories about himself on the Internet, but what he’s yet to encounter until today is the speculation that he is in a secret relationship. He’s private about his life, so it means that any rumor about him is ripped into shreds until it’s indecipherable from the trace of truth it’s sparked from. Most of the time, however, there isn’t anything concrete like a real person and a real picture to link the rumors to, but Kenma is staring at it now, a photo of him looking up at a tall stranger while he smiles down at Kenma, his hands holding onto his arms.
It's not edited. Kenma remembers this moment, so fleeting that he’s shocked anyone’s managed to capture it at all. It would’ve been lost in his memories if he hadn’t seen the evidence of it circulate all the major platforms the morning after as a grainy photograph.
The captions attached to the photo are somewhere along the lines of “Kodzuken and J-POP idol Kuroo Tetsurou’s secret relationship revealed!!!” and “Long-time Playboy Kuroo Tetsurou Finally Settles Down—Has the Tomcat Been Tamed???”
He supposes it does look intimate, taken out of context, like they’re having a private moment in a room full of people, but the truth is nothing close to the fantasy that has been painted. It’s this: at Bokuto’s New Year’s Eve party someone bumped into Kenma and Kuroo had caught him, steadying him on his feet before the two of them went their separate ways. It had not lasted longer than thirty seconds. They had not exchanged a single hello. Kenma probably wouldn’t have known who Kuroo was if his face wasn’t plastered on all the billboards, buses, and magazines in Tokyo the past few years—and if his name wasn’t a regular part of Shouyou’s vocabulary about his favorite band, SIXS.
“This is ridiculous. How can I be dating someone I don’t even know?” Kenma complains, scrolling through the thousands of posts he’s been tagged in, his feed a mixture of the grainy image in varying amount of focus and threads of “evidence” backing up this theory by their rabid fans. How they have this much information to support something that doesn’t even exist baffles Kenma. (Apparently, there’s only a year difference in age between them, and they grew up in neighborhoods just a block from each other. They both used to play volleyball, though Kenma’s career ended briskly after an intense summer training camp in junior high while Kuroo managed to reach nationals with his high school team. They do have a lot of mutuals on social media, mostly by courtesy of Shouyou.)
“Just give it a couple days, Kenma-san. They will forget about it like they always do. Although—” Lev cuts himself off, his green eyes diverting back to his own laptop screen to avoid Kenma’s scrutiny. He clears his throat nervously. “Oh, never mind.”
Kenma knows him well enough to know Lev has an idea he would like to propose. As head of Kenma’s PR team, Lev is the one that deals with these gossips and rumors, managing Kodzuken’s public image to Kenma’s liking. He’s also the one that tries to push Kenma to do things that are good for his “brand”. After the disaster that is their first year together, when Lev scheduled a few too many panels for Kenma’s liking, they’ve since discovered a way to collaborate without driving each other crazy. Or maybe Kenma is just better at saying “No” to Lev, and Lev is better at understanding what not to do if he doesn’t want to earn an icy glare from his highly introverted boss.
“What?” Kenma says, not liking the way Lev is fidgeting with his keyboard, still trying to avert his eyes from his gaze.
Finally, he closes his laptop and sighs. “Don’t yell at me.”
“What?” Kenma repeats. He feels a headache coming on. He really shouldn’t have gone to that New Year’s Eve party if he knew this was going to happen. But Shouyou had begged and begged and Kenma did not think it was a good idea for his best friend to attend his first party after making it big alone. He’s heard enough horror stories. Even if he trusts that Bokuto and his band are relatively nice people, mentoring Shouyou and his friends and helping them secure their first record deal, they’re still strangers to him. Now, his price for being a good friend is the PR disaster that he somehow found himself in the morning after. Maybe PR disaster is a bit dramatic for this situation, but still, it’s annoying, nonetheless.
“I was just thinking that it might not be a terrible idea to fuel the flames every once in a while,” Lev says slowly, as though easing Kenma into the idea like a child dipping only the tips of his toes into the icy water of a lake. He blinks at Kenma, his emerald-green eyes patient as they wait for the understanding to set in.
What on eart—Oh.
“You’re joking.” Kenma lets out a disbelieving laugh.
Lev shakes his head, sounding more serious by the second. “PR relationships happen all the time. And your fanbases hardly overlap, so it’s not a bad idea to get more eyes on your channel! You both would get something out of it.” He shrugs at the end, nonchalant about something that is very much a big deal to Kenma.
Kenma waves him off empathetically, his voice firm. “No, thanks. I’m not interested in dating even if it’s fake.”
He can’t remember the last time he went on a date. He wouldn’t even know what to do, especially with him. Kuroo is all tall and broad-shouldered, stupidly handsome, and most importantly, so not Kenma’s type. He has a girl on his arm every other week and is photographed with a different boy in the other.
And Kenma? He’s only one step above a recluse and a hermit. The only times he makes himself available to the public are the occasional conventions and panels Lev signs him up to do. As for his looks, well, he isn’t bad looking, per se, but he definitely isn’t like the models or actors Kuroo is often seen with. There is no universe in which he can convince the world that they are together.
Even if the world already thinks so? His brain so unhelpfully reminds him, the picture flashing back into his mind.
“I thought so.” Lev sighs, defeated. His long limbs stretched out on the table like a cat waking up from a cap. “But wouldn’t be hard to set up, though, if you want to think about it. We do have a connection through Shouyou-kun, after all. With their new album and upcoming tour, I’m sure more publicity is never a bad thing.”
Kenma doesn’t respond, and Lev doesn’t push more than that, just letting his idea linger in the air like the residuals of an incense. The rumor itself is harmless, so it’s okay for them to just ignore it until the Internet finds another thing to obsess over.
And Kenma wouldn’t have given this another thought if he hadn’t met Kuroo again a week later. He thinks about this all the time, how things would’ve been so different if he had stayed home like he always does—again—but it seems like someone wants him to run into Kuroo. Literally run into him.
~
Kuroo has a habit of not checking his name on the Internet. He’s learned that the hard way. What the world has to say about him has absolutely nothing to do with him. If it’s serious enough, he can get the earful from Yaku, vow to never do it again (mostly meaning it), and move on with his life. He’s here to make music, and anything that distracts him from that isn’t worth it.
This time, however, things are a bit different. The headlines now include someone he has no clue about. Usually, the names that accompany his in the news ring a bell—a model he went on a date with, or an idol he’s seen leaving a club together. Much to Yaku’s dismay, he doesn’t shy away from the paparazzi. They find out anyways, so he figures it’s better if they get his good side.
“Who’s Kodzuken?” Kuroo furrows his brows together at the foreign name, taking another gulp of his water. He wasn’t that drunk last night, was he? His headache isn’t even that bad this morning.
“He’s a pro-gamer and a streamer.” Yaku says, his phone screen illuminating his face. The two of them are in Kuroo’s kitchen, the usual rendezvous point in the morning after a night out. “And apparently a board member of Bouncing Ball Corp, the new video game development company everyone can’t stop talking about. All that before 30?” He whistles. Then, he looks up at Kuroo, his brown eyes almost bored, “You didn’t hook up with him, right? Nothing for me to worry about?”
Kuroo has given Yaku a lot of headaches over the years as his manager, but this time, he can proudly and honestly say, “Nope. I have no idea who that is. Pretty sure the only person I kissed last night was Nekoma-san.” He grins, remembering pressing his lips to the cold, wrinkly cheeks of his mentor at the end of the night before leaving for his apartment. Nekoma is like a second father to him at this point, and he’s spry for his age, always making an appearance at the SIXS’ parties or launches.
“This is new for you. Congrats.” Yaku says sarcastically, rolling his eyes. He tucks his phone back into his pocket, gathering his things. “Here I thought I was going to have to spin a story or two. Apparently, the Internet is convinced that you’re together.”
Kuroo laughs, almost choking on his water. “Like in a relationship? Do they know me at all?” Kuroo has never once given anyone the impression that he’s a relationship kind of guy. Not even the Oikawa-type, where you suspect he does want someone to come home to at the end of the night but is just living through his playboy phase.
Yaku shrugs. “People like things that are new and exciting. Plus, I think this is more about Kodzuken than you, so I wouldn’t worry about it too much. He seems like a private person, so of course people love to fantasize and exaggerate every single piece of information they get.”
Kuroo hums, suddenly curious about this other person he’s supposedly dating. After Yaku leaves, satisfied with the state of affairs, Kuroo turns on his social media. He’s immediately bombarded with the pictures from last night, linked to articles after articles of gossip. It’s almost impressive how fast the Internet works. He supposes there are people on the other side of the world watching too.
From what he can see, in the main photo, he doesn’t see Kodzuken’s face, but Kuroo recognizes this moment from his own point of view. The other man had looked up at him for only second before averting his eyes back down and slithering away into the crowd. The man had bright gold eyes, and his arms were small under his grip. Kuroo was afraid he could hurt him when he held on too tightly. That’s all Kuroo remembers.
It was so brief Kurii likely wouldn’t have given it a second thought if not for this picture. Kodzuken might’ve mumbled a thank-you, for all Kuroo knows, but it was too loud in there even for Kuroo’s own thoughts, so he didn’t even catch what his voice sounded like.
Kuroo scrolls through the following posts, stopping when one finally tags Kodzuken’s main account. He muses as he browses his Twitter and Instagram. It’s clear that the guy is only interested in video games.
Oh. Kuroo’s thumb pauses on a carousel of photos. Kodzuken has a cat. A cute calico with large brown eyes.
Kuroo zooms in to see the cat’s sleeping face through the pictures. There’s an extremely adorable one when she’s sitting on Kodzuken’s lap at his desk, her fur melting into his legs, sticking against the black of his sweatpants. He smiles at the picture. He really should get a pet of his own, but he can barely take care of himself with his hectic schedule. Plus, he would like a dog and that wouldn’t be fair to leave him alone all day.
Not finding out much about Kodzuken’s personal life, Kuroo is about to exit from his page when he sees that they have many mutuals. It shouldn’t be a surprise given that Kodzuken was invited to the party, but Kuroo also knew a lot of the invitations were customary. Bokuto knows way too many people even accounting for his fame status.
Kuroo clicks on the first name that’s listed in bold—Hinata Shouyou.
On the kid’s page is a picture of him playing the guitar with his band, The Crows, at rehearsal. Kuroo still thinks of the day they met fondly, Hinata’s enthusiasm and earnestness as he bounces around the studio reminds him of his younger self, say at twelve-years-old. Of course, Kuroo and his band were all unimmune to his compliments and sunny disposition, especially Bokuto, who acted as though he was Hinata’s long-lost father. They offered to help him and his band in any way they can. It wasn’t hard, though. The Crows were good.
Given that half the group were fighting and bickering nonstop, Kuroo was worried how they’d work together, but they were almost a different creature with instruments in their hands. It was a complete switch. It was magic. Kuroo’s fingers itched watching them perform, wanting to jump into the booth with them. It’s the kind of music that makes you want to move and dance and make even more music. Only the best kind makes him feel like that.
Buried in between the many posts on Hinata’s page, however, is a picture of the grinning orange-head with his arms around a familiar delicate face. He’s barely smiling, but Kuroo can tell he’s only half-forced into taking this picture, his one hand holding up a peace sign.
Kenma. That’s the name written in the caption.
“Thanks for visiting me in Brazil, Kenma!!! Come back soon!!!!😊😊😊 ”
Kuroo’s fingers dance over this picture just as he has previously with the ones of Kodzu—Kenma’s cat. He stops when he just has his face in the frame. He studies him, trying to piece this together with the man he met last night.
It’s the same intense, golden eyes, but the rest of his face comes into full focus now, no longer blurred by Kuroo’s hazy drunken memories. He’s so pretty he could be a model, the strands of his hair framing his face just right, its golden tips contrasting the silky natural black. His lips are a soft pink color, slightly curved at their corners in that unknowable smile that Kuroo feels is just his style.
Kuroo feels a twinge of regret at how easily he had let him slip away last night. Then, he realizes that it’s probably for the best. Kenma doesn’t seem like the type who should be caught up with his bullshit.
Kuroo lets his fingers rise from the screen and the full photo snaps back into place. Before he can do any more snooping, though, his screen flashes with an incoming call.
“Good mooorning!” Bokuto’s smiling face comes into view, so energetic that it’s hard to imagine he had chugged an unhealthy number of beers and sake back-to-back just a few hours earlier. “Glad to see the SIXS survived another year! Woot woot!”
Sure enough, in the other two squares on the screen are the faces of the rest of the band—Oikawa with a pair of pink under-eye masks and Daichi standing in his brightly lit kitchen, nursing a steaming cup of tea in his hands.
“Rumors has it you got yourself a boyfriend, Tetsu-chan,” Oikawa winks at him, his voice teasing. “A domesticated tomcat, someone called you?”
“Oh! Kenma!” Bokuto grins, his black and silver hair sticking up straighter as though fueled by his excitement. “I wanted to talk to him more last night, but he was very quick to get away from me. He’s like a sneaky cat.”
“To be fair, Bo,” Daichi chimes in, ever the voice of reason, “You were hugging him and telling him that you should vacation together. That would scare any sane person that has only met you for the very first time.”
“But Shouyou wanted to go to Osaka with me.” Bokuto points out, not quite getting the point.
“Any sane person, Bo.” Kuroo laughs. He finds himself wanting to talk about Kenma. How did Bokuto and Daichi get to talk to him, and he didn’t? Why is he almost disappointed? “Anyways, shame I didn’t get to talk to him because it seems he’s really introverted. He doesn’t seem like my type at all.” Kuroo says this, hoping that it will sound better out loud than in his head. “The Internet does it again!”
Oikawa chimes in with an amused chuckle, “As if you have a type, Tetsu-chan. As long as someone breathes, I think you’d go for them. Ken-chan is lucky he has standards.”
Kuroo grins, fighting back with, “At least I hadn’t hooked up with a fan.”
Oikawa gasps, fake hurt with a hand over his chest. “Hey! That was only one time!”
Kuroo sees on his screen that Daichi is now looking at something—probably, someone—behind his phone. He has that same fond smile on his face that lets Kuroo know that he is correct.
“Your sweetheart calling, Sawamura?” He smirks, making kissy faces at the camera.
“Don’t be jealous, Tetsurou.” Daichi grins back, not taking the bait. “One day, maybe Kodzuken himself will keep your bed warm for you.”
“Ugh. No. It’s no fun when you’re not embarrassed.” Kuroo rolls his eyes. He supposes after years of teasing about his high school sweetheart, Daichi’s learn the best way to deal with it.
“Well, guys, I have to go. Need to get my first work-out of the New Year in! Just wanted to check in to see that you’re all alive.” Bokuto salutes them through the screen. “See you tomorrow!”
When the call cuts off after a chorus of goodbyes and last-minute jabs at one another, Kuroo finds that he’s lost the page that he was on. Well, that’s enough of that. It’s not like he’s going to see Kodzuken again anyways. Maybe he will get in his first work-out of the year, too.
~
Genuinely, Kenma needs to stop agreeing to accompany Shouyou to things. This time, the rest of the Crows will be there, so it’s not like he’s going to be alone. There’s no need for Kenma to be there, but he had sneakily verified that Kenma was free this date and therefore will have no excuses to say no to him. He still could have, but it seems this is the year of his bad decisions.
The club is even louder than Bokuto’s party if that’s even possible. The Crows are playing soon, so Shouyou has ditched Kenma to get ready. Maybe he should’ve followed him before he slipped away. At least he could’ve played on his phone in their dressing room until it was time for their set.
“Are you kidding me,” Kenma mutters to himself as another person manages to spill their drinks on his sneakers, almost soaking into his socks. He’s going to have to throw these out after tonight.
He swivels his head for the doors. One of these must lead to the back. Or to a private room. He can pay for a private room. He can also pay for one of those VIP tables, but then everyone will be staring at him sitting there alone, and that is another mortifying experience.
Kenma decides maybe he should get some fresh air before Shouyou comes on. If he’s the recipient of any more elbow jabs, he’s not sure he can make it the rest of the night.
When Kenma almost reaches the door outside, he sees the flashes of the photographers coming through the dark tinted windows.
Shit. He should’ve gone through the back door. He turns around, but debates against fighting the herd of people again. He’d died in the crowd. He’s sure of it.
Suddenly, he remembers that he always carries around a mask in his jacket pocket for emergencies like this. It would look strange but that’s better than more unwanted pictures.
Kenma fumbles around in his pocket, his fingers curl around the strings, ready t to pull out his protection. He doesn’t get to put it on though before the doors swing open and he’s blinded by the barrage of flashes and shutters in his eyes. Kenma tries to walk, out or just anywhere, but he doesn’t get far until he meets a strong chest, his soft black T-shirt smelling of candlewood and apple.
“Oh!” He hears a voice above him, a miracle given the amount of screaming in his ears (“Over here! Over here!” “Oh my god, it’s them!” “It’s them!”). “We need to stop meeting like this, but I think I’m your boyfriend.”
Kenma slowly looks up, feeling an incredible sense of Deja vu. These arms that have caught him before and these eyes that have shone like a pair of gold gems even in the darkest room. And his messy, messy black hair is more evident today against the relentless light of the camera.
“It’s you.” Kenma says, not having control over his lips or apparently even his body, given that he’s just stuck here, staring at up at him. Again.
Kuroo smiles, the same way he did that night, like they have always known each other. Yeah. Kenma sees why people get the wrong idea about them. He also sees why he’s successfully gone home with so many people.
“Here, come this way.” Kuroo starts to turn, but not before resting a hand on Kenma’s back, steering him along ahead of him.
And despite his earlier wish to be anywhere but inside, Kenma lets Kuroo lead him further into the club. This time, however, there’s a wall of protection between him and the crowd. It’s almost nice to be so hidden between his arms. He almost doesn’t mind the implications of this as the people around them stare and stare.
~
“Thanks.” Kenma breathes a sign of relief when they’re finally alone. Sort of.
Kuroo lead Kenma upstairs to the balcony overlooking the crowds. He nodded at security when he shot Kenma a questioning look, and they were let in through the velvet rope up a short flight of steps. It’s more secluded here, with only a few other people standing and a few people sitting in posh comfy chairs. No one pays them any attention.
Kenma’s happy he can still see the stage well from up here.
“No worries.” Kuroo smiles at Kenma again, leaning his elbows against the railing. “When you’re not expecting it, the flashes can be hard to shake. I should apologize for bumping into you.” He chuckles. “Again.”
This and the comment earlier confirm to Kenma that he has clearly seen that picture. Of course he has. He’s more of a celebrity than Kenma. No doubt he gets the second-by-second update. God, now there’s going to be more pictures.
“Ugh. I’m sorry.” Kenma groans, already thinking of the headache he’s going to have tomorrow. At least Kuroo is nice about it. He suspects other popstars might not take kindly to such suggestions of him dating them. “After what they saw us doing earlier, I doubt anyone’s going to let this go anytime soon.”
Surprisingly, Kuroo laughs. “Oh, shit. Right.” He tilts his head at Kenma. “I think I should be the one saying sorry. I’m not very careful with when and where I get photographed. I'm sorry I'm getting you caught up in it.”
“It’s shocking how many people believe we’re actually together though.” Kenma snorts. “I mean, I haven’t even meet you properly. That was the first time.”
“People on the Internet make up the craziest stuff.” Kuroo shakes his head. “Have you read some of the theories though? We’ve been very careful in covering our tracks until now.” His eyes glint mischievously.
Kenma raises his brows. “Oh? When did they say we actually meet then?”
“Junior high.” Kuroo grins. “It was love at first sight, you know. We saw each other across the net at a volleyball game. Or training camp. Whatever.”
“Romantic.”
“Oh, very. And I try hard to confuse my fans with my many public dates, all to throw them off the trail that I am—” He gasps dramatically. “In a relationship!”
“Don’t you mean already married?” Kenma cocks his head at him, referencing the posts about himself having too-long hoodie sleeves that cover his hands, hiding the supposed wedding rings. he wiggles his fingers in the air now.
“Precisely. An-out-of-the-country secret wedding not even our parents know about!”
Kenma laughs at the absurdity of the situation. “Well, if all that’s true, this would make you my first and longest relationship. Congratulations.”
Kuroo raises an imagery glass in a toast. “You, too, my love. Happy anniversary to us.”
Kenma smiles. In a moment, his nerves have calmed from the frenzy of the paparazzi and the claustrophobia of the club. It’s easy to talk to Kuroo, even if they weren’t really talking about anything at all.
Lev’s comment from before suddenly pops into Kenma’s mind. He shakes his head as though to physically remove them from his brain. No. It’s not possible. It’s not necessary. He doesn’t need more followers. Well—okay, he doesn’t need to get them this way.
“What’s up?” Kuroo’s noticed that Kenma is thinking about something. He leans in just a bit to catch his eyes.
Fuck. Kenma’s aware that he’s much closer than before. And even if he’s not attracted to him in that way, he’s still plenty attractive, okay?
“It’s nothing.” He shakes his head again. He tries to smile but is bad at it when he’s lying.
Kuroo arches his brows. “Out with it. I’m really stubborn so eventually I’ll make you tell me.”
“It’s stupid.” Kenma rolls his eyes, as if to emphasize how not-a-big-deal this is. He’s stubborn too.
“I’ve been told I’m plenty stupid.” Kuroo says, too proudly for his own good. “Lay it on me.”
Kenma stares at him, aware that his argument doesn’t even make sense, but maybe if he knows how ridiculous this idea is, he will see that it’s truly nothing.
“Ugh. Fine.” Kenma lets out a breath. Then he says, “Lev—he’s my PR guy—suggests we should take advantage of this situation. He says we should go with the rumors and milk it for a bit.” He lets the words hang there, lets them be absorbed in with the rest of the music and the crowd. Where is Shouyou anyways? Where is his excuse to say, oh I have to listen to my best friend now please stop talking and also good-bye?
Kuroo’s brows furrow for a moment, his hand running through his hair in a swift motion, moving the messy spikes from right to left.
“Oooh.” He finally lets out. “Like pretend we’re actually dating?”
Kenma nods. Yup, he couldn’t even say those words out loud without feeling embarrassed. He’s glad Kuroo doesn’t have that gene in his body.
“I told him it’s a terrible idea. I mean, you and me?” He gestures between them, scoffing. “I don’t think anyone would believe we’re together.”
Kuroo chuckles. “Kenma, I’m pretty sure thousands of people already have.”
Kenma looks at him then, realizing that he’s just used his first name. Has he even introduced himself? How did he kno—?
“Oh shit, sorry.” Kuroo seems to understand at the same time, smiling apologetically. “I know Chibi-chan always calls you Kenma, and Bokuto and Sawamura refers to you as Kenma, too, so in my head I’ve been—”
Kenma waves him off. “No, no. It’s okay. Kenma is fine. The honorifics stuff bothers me.” He’s been talking about Kenma? He’s been thinking about Kenma in his head? Okay. It’s not weird. Kenma has been thinking about him too because of the Internet. It doesn’t mean anything.
“But I mean what I said though. It’s not like people don’t already believe we are together. We’re not going to be telling them something they don’t already want to be true.”
Kenma can’t believe what he’s hearing. He narrows his eyes at him. “Are you saying you want to do it?” That’s not the reaction he thought he was going to get. Is he the only one thinking this is a crazy idea?
Kuroo shrugs. “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking about it, but since you brought it up, it’s not like it would be unheard of for PR relationships to happen. And we wouldn’t have to do any hard work of making it happen ourselves.”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Kenma says, even though what Kuroo says is true. Maybe this is his personal issue. “I’m not really a relationship person.”
Kuroo smiles ruefully at this, only half of his mouth turns up. “I’m sure you already know that’s also true about me.”
They stare at one another for a moment, thinking in their own minds but trying to fit the other into the puzzle pieces as well.
Kenma’s heart is beginning to pound again, like he’s on the verge of something, the edge of a cliff. He can just see over it to the abyss below and can barely make out what it looks like on the other side.
“What are you saying…” Kenma says slowly. He has never been brave, not really.
Kuroo’s eyes shine, never for a moment wavering from Kenma’s gaze. “I’m in if you’re in.” He raises his brows in a question, in a proposal—in a dare? “If we’re both not into dating, then we don’t have to worry about falling in love for real, right? What’s the harm?”
What’s the harm? Kenma has never been brave, not really. He has been stupid though, and the distinction is a paper-thin line.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”