Work Text:
“Why are you following me?” Kenma calls out in a monotone voice, not even bothering to turn around or stop walking. A frost covered leaf crunches loudly under his chunky winter boots. The early morning light casts a pale glow upon the world; the sky is a greyish-white, layers and layers of clouds covering it. It would probably snow soon.
“Who says I’m following you?” A jovial voice laughs out behind him. Still, Kenma refuses to look back, out of spite mostly. “Are all angels as accusatory as you?” Kenma keeps his footsteps steady, refusing to comment.
“Since we’re headed the same way, why don’t we walk together? Kenma?” The voice is closer now, only a couple of metres behind him. Damn those absurdly long legs.
“Kenma, are you ignoring me?”
“Actively ignoring you sounds effortful.”
“Are you trying to pretend you didn’t miss me? You missed me so much that you’re angry at yourself, huh?” This time Kenma can’t stop himself from whipping around. The defensive words of denial he had planned to say die on his tongue when he sees that amused face smiling down at him.
“You’re aggravating,” Kenma mutters instead.
“Aw, I can’t help it,” Kuroo teases, “Not when you look so adorable with your nose all scrunched up like that.”
Kenma spins around again, refusing to let Kuroo see the blush painting his cheeks. He keeps walking along the narrow sidewalk, turning into an alleyway that leads to steep stairs. There he finds his target.
“Hi there,” he whispers at a grey kitten, voice soft and airy. It sits outside the walls of the neighbouring houses, nothing but some damp cardboard separating it from the cracked sidewalk that’s covered with overgrown grass. It meows quietly up at him, sniffing his fingers when Kenma offers it his hand. He knows Kuroo is behind him, watching him carefully. Kenma ignores him though, attention solely focused on his task.
“You’re in a good mood today, huh?” Kenma strokes the kitten’s back, warming it up the best he can. Poor thing is probably not used to the cold weather. “If you be good for a little longer, you’re gonna get a really nice treat,” Kenma promises the cat. It meows questioningly at him but Kenma just smiles and strokes its fur. He checks the time: 6:37 AM. Right on schedule.
Kenma pats the kitten’s head one last time before hopping up onto the stone wall above the kitten. A few seconds later, quiet footsteps come from the stairs.
Kenma watches, slightly apprehensive, as a young girl slowly approaches the kitten, crouching down to get a better look at it. The girl is careful not to get too close, looking even more apprehensive than Kenma is. She slowly opens a can of tuna and sets it down in front of the kitten; the kitten sniffs at it for a moment before digging in. The girl gently pets the kitten’s fur, giggling a little at how its tail flicks back and forth. Kenma continues to watch, completely invisible to the human girl.
After seeing the soft, childlike smile on the girl’s face, Kenma can’t stop the smile that forms on his own face. The girl pets the cat for a couple more minutes before continuing her journey to school.
Kenma stretches his arms a bit, letting out a quiet yawn. He supposes getting up so early for assignments isn’t the worst thing in the world.
“Wow,” Kuroo whistles. Kenma pauses. Shit, he had forgotten Kuroo was there. “How come you never smile at me like that?”
Kenma peers down, seeing Kuroo leaning against the wall he was currently sitting on top of, his lips stretching into a teasing smile. He resists the urge to kick at him, hopping down instead.
“You’re still here?” Kenma rolls his eyes and heads off. Kuroo follows him and Kenma hates how sure he was that Kuroo would do that. “Why?”
“Take a guess,” Kuroo shrugs, walking alongside Kenma this time.
“Are you really here for work?” Kenma asks, eyeing Kuroo’s slick black suit, that sparkling chained brooch hanging from the lapel. A Reaper’s uniform.
“Yep, same as you. But don’t worry, I still have some time,” Kuroo pushes his sleeve back to check his watch. “So…” Kuroo starts, angling himself forwards so he can peer down at Kenma.
“So?” Kenma echoes, wishing he brought something warm to drink.
“What’s an Angel as esteemed as yourself doing these minor little assignments for? Don’t you have interns for that?” Kuroo pokes Kenma’s shoulder.
“We don’t have interns,” Kenma mutters. Kuroo is still right though; normally these simple, smaller assignments would be handed out to newer angels. “I like doing assignments like this, they’re relaxing. Shoyo’s the one who loves doing those tiring, long-term assignments.”
“Must be nice to choose like that,” Kuroo hums. Kenma glances at Kuroo; unlike Angels, Reapers had no say in the assignments. No matter how gruesome or sad the death was, a Reaper had to go collect the soul. Kenma wonders if he should say something, if Kuroo needs to be cheered up or anything. It’s hard to tell sometimes.
Before he can decide what to say though, Kuroo stops, whirling around so he’s facing Kenma with his usual smirk.
“Well, I gotta get going now. See ya ‘round, Angel,” Kuroo ruffles Kenma’s hair before heading down the alleyway and Kenma watches him go. Until Kuroo turns back towards him, smirking and sending a wink when he notices Kenma watching. Kenma flushes, spinning around.
The kitten meows at him and it may just be the most taunting meow Kenma has ever heard.
“I am not!” Kenma grouches. The kitten stretches before staring up at Kenma. It meows again.
“Oh, what do you know? You’re a cat,” Kenma grumbles.
He lifts his hands up to feel his cheeks, praying they’re not as red as they feel.
“It’s ‘cause it’s cold, that’s all,” Kenma mumbles to the kitten. The kitten no longer appears interested in their conversation, however, and neglects to comment further.
“Yeah, well, I’m done talking to you too!” Kenma shoots the feline one last glare before marching away.
Stupid cat. Stupid Reaper. Stupid cheeks that won’t stop blushing.
🤍🖤❤️
“Hey, cutie.”
“Gross.”
“Mean.”
“Lame.”
“Hey, who’s the one with the umbrella in the torrential downpour out here?” Kuroo threateningly leans his black umbrella away from Kenma.
“Nooooo,” Kenma latches onto Kuroo’s hand, the one wrapped around the handle of the umbrella. “I don’t wanna get wet,” Kenma pleads.
“Hmm…” Kuroo looks down at Kenma’s pleading face, at Kenma’s smaller, slimmer hands wrapped around Kuroo’s. “Fine. Only because it’d be a real shame if that adorable little outfit of yours got ruined.” Kenma glances down at his outfit; light wash jeans tucked into white, heavy-duty winter boots, a thick white turtleneck with a white oversized coat thrown on top. Just standard casual angel-wear. He regrets not bringing a hat though, because he put his hair up in a bun and now his ears are getting kinda cold.
“I’m cold,” he announces to Kuroo, expectantly. Kuroo rolls his eyes and steps closer, giving Kenma the umbrella to hold. He then covers Kenma’s hands with his own, enveloping them completely. Kenma looks up at Kuroo and wow they’re standing really close together.
“Warmer?” Kuroo asks, staring straight into Kenma’s eyes.
Kenma shakes his head, “Your hands are kinda cold. Everyone knows Reapers have cold hands.” Kuroo huffs, laughing slightly. He retracts his hands and Kenma feels a little sad but he’s not sure why. Kenma busies his own hand by tucking back the wisps of hair framing his face, fingers skimming over the icy tips of his ears.
“What a whiny angel,” Kuroo scolds. Kenma watches as he takes his thick winter jacket off and wraps it around Kenma’s shoulders, pulling the hood up to cover Kenma’s head. He then wraps his arms around Kenma, resting his chin on top of his head. “Better?”
Kenma looks up at Kuroo again and is about to say yes because his heart does feel warmer but he’s not sure if it’s just the jacket because the way Kuroo is looking at him right now, all soft eyes and fond smirk, is making Kenma feel really—
“Hel-looo? I’m still here, you know?” Kenma jumps, crashing into Kuroo’s chest. He whips around to see an unimpressed Oikawa standing behind him, the drawstrings of his mint-coloured raincoat pulled tightly around his face, likely to keep the rain from drenching his hair. It makes him look like an angry cherub, cheeks all puffy and pink, but Kenma doesn't dare to say that to Oikawa’s face.
“I can’t believe you two made me watch all that,” Oikawa shakes his head with disgust.
“Watch what?” Kuroo blinks innocently. “I’m just trying to keep my dear Kenma warm.”
“Ugh,” Oikawa scowls, “You’re dead. You literally can’t even thermoregulate.”
“True. But Kenma isn’t complaining, right?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow at Kenma.
“Uh…” Despite Kuroo not producing any body heat, Kenma is starting to feel real warm right now.
“Ew,” Oikawa mutters. “You,” he points a finger at Kenma, “make sure to hand that report in. Otherwise, Iwa-chan is gonna be mad at me.”
“You’re leaving?” Kenma frowns.
“Duh! You guys are too gross,” Oikawa sniffs. “I’m gonna go bother Tobio-chan.” Kenma sends a silent prayer for the poor kid.
“Bye,” Kenma half-heartedly waves at Oikawa’s retreating form.
“He’s pretty vile for an Angel,” Kuroo muses. Kenma realizes Kuroo’s arms are still wrapped around Kenma, his chin resting on Kenma’s shoulder.
“I have to go deliver this report,” Kenma states. “You can’t come with…”
“I know, I know. Angels only.”
“I guess I’ll—”
“Coffee later?” Kuroo cuts him off. “I know a place.”
“Sure?”
“It’s a date!” And then Kuroo heads off, leaving Kenma with an umbrella and some mild panic as he overthinks Kuroo’s words.
🤍🖤❤️
The next morning, Kenma finds himself standing in front of a quaint-looking cafe. He pulls out his phone, double-checking he’s at the location Kuroo sent him (and maybe checking how his hair looks in the camera) before entering.
The cafe is decorated with twinkling lights and fake tinsel and paper snowflakes that descend from the tall ceiling. A melodic song plays in the background, the soft melody washing over Kenma. The cafe is mostly empty right now, with only a few patrons sitting at the tables. Kenma doesn’t see Kuroo among any of them. Deciding he’s probably running late or had a last-minute assignment pop-up, Kenma heads to the counter to order for himself while waiting.
“Hi,” the barista grins at him, “What can I get ya, cuteness?”
“...” Kenma’s eyes actually hurt from how hard he just rolled his eyes.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?” Kuroo laughs, adjusting his apron.
“What are you doing?” Kenma asks in a resigned voice.
“Didn’t you know?” Kuroo leans in, whispering, “Old man Nekomata owns this place. Inherited after collecting the previous owner’s soul like seven decades ago.”
“Wow, that sounds super illegal. Why are you here then?” Kenma raises an eyebrow.
“It’s a Reaper thing. You work a couple of shifts here every now and then, get some downtime, and the Underworld gets more cash to spend on those fancy suits,” Kuroo explains as he punches in a drink order on the computer. “The place is pretty popular among Angels and Reapers.”
“How come I never knew about it?” Kenma frowns.
“Because you just go back to Heaven and play video games after work,” Kuroo flicks Kenma’s forehead.
“Ow,” Kenma pouts, rubbing at his forehead. “The Wi-Fi is better up there.”
Kuroo rolls his eyes and pushes a ceramic cup towards Kenma, “Here’s your order, one piping hot latte with two pumps of hazelnut. Free of charge for my favourite customer!”
“This is literally my first time here,” Kenma mutters but accepts the cup anyway since Kuroo got his order right. “What is this, a uterus? Is this some sort of subliminal message?”
“It’s a cat.”
“...Dude,” Kenma looks down at the fallopian-like lines drawn on top of his coffee foam and then back up at Kuroo, his disbelief clear as day.
“Well, someone is judgy this morning,” Kuroo huffs.
“Just stick to what you’re good at, Kuro,” Kenma sighs, a breath of laughter escaping him. He grabs the whipped cream canister, ready to bury the poor foam art under a mountain of white swirls.
“And what am I good at?” Kuroo leans on the counter, grinning lazily at Kenma. Kenma hums, licking some whipped cream off his thumb as he thinks.
“Collecting dead souls, I guess,” Kenma states, shaking the whipped cream canister.
“That doesn’t count,” Kuroo grumbles. “It’s literally my job.”
“Being good at your job is a good thing. It was a compliment,” Kenma rolls his eyes.
“My whole existence is contingent on doing that though. Pick something else,” Kuroo whines.
“I don’t know?”
“You can’t think of anything?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow, leaning in even closer. “Come on, Kenma. I thought we were friends. Surely there’s something you think I’m good at?” Kenma’s fingers twitch as they clasp around his cup, eyes involuntarily zoning in on Kuroo’s grin, up to his sparkling eyes.
“I...uh.. .” Kenma’s face heats up and he hides behind his steaming mug.
“Excuse me!” a voice interjects before Kenma can continue to try to respond. He turns around to see a mildly annoyed Sugawara standing behind him. Suga’s arms are on his hips, eyebrow raised as he suspiciously eyes both Kuroo and Kenma.
“What? The Reapers even have you working part-time at the coffee shop now?” he asks Kuroo.
“It’s been a tough fiscal year in the Underworld,” Kuroo dramatically sighs, “We can’t all enjoy the extravagance of the Heavenly Realm.”
“Right,” Suga says dryly. “Well, Mr. Part-Time Barista, could you take my order now? Or are you too busy with your little cuteness over here?”
Something in the way that Sugawara teasingly smiles at them makes Kenma want to flee. “Here,” he blurts, handing Suga his coffee, abandoning both his latte and the whipped cream. “I’m not thirsty anymore. See you in Heaven Suga-san.”
Ha! Liar, a voice that sounds too much like a gleeful Kuroo whispers in his mind as Kenma scurries away from the counter.
“Thanks?” He can hear Suga call out, slightly confused. “...Is this a uterus?”
“It’s a cat!”
🤍🖤❤️
“What are you doing here?” Kenma sighs, hoping the attendant at the front desk is too polite or too uninterested to listen in.
“Budget cuts. What can you do?” Kuroo shrugs.
“You’re a Reaper. People aren’t supposed to see you when you’re working,” Kenma hisses, glancing around the lobby, making sure no one is paying them any special attention. They’re both in the lobby of a high-end hotel in the heart of Tokyo. Kenma has been tasked with an assignment involving a wedding that would take place at the hotel in a couple of days. Kuroo, judging by the trademark suit and brooch of a Reaper, is also here for work.
“I just got off work!’ Kuroo smiles, delighted. A little unnerving considering that meant someone just died but Kenma doesn’t point that out.
“Leave then. I am working.”
“Exactly,” Kuroo agrees, “You can keep doing your little Angel work and I can enjoy a free stay at a five-star hotel!”
“No.”
“Aw, come on,” Kuroo tugs on Kenma’s sleeve, “Just do me this one favour. I heard the steak they serve here is to die for.”
“Ugh,” Kenma makes a face of disgust.
“That was an unintentional pun, my bad. But seriously, we’ve been friends for decades—”
“Irrelevant.”
“—You’ll survive spending one weekend with me. I won’t even bother you!” Kuroo swears. Kenma looks upward and groans quietly. Kuroo tugs on his sleeve again, like a child begging their mother for some shiny toy.
“Fine,” Kenma spits out. “But you better behave,” he warns.
“I’ll be on my most angelic behaviour,” Kuroo promises, raising a hand to his chest. Kenma squints at him, disgusted.
Kuroo ignores the facial expression directed at him and wraps his arm around Kenma’s shoulder, turning them so they’re facing the front desk again. “Sorry about that, my boyfriend’s shy. Isn’t that right, babe?”
Boyfriend? Babe???
“Don’t worry,” the front attendant chirps, “And we can definitely upgrade you two to a more accommodating suite!
“Huh?” Kenma blinks.
“Sounds perfect!” Kuroo smiles easily, the muscular arm he has slung around Kenma’s shoulders preventing any escape. Kenma glares up at the dark-haired man before turning to the attendant with a faux smile.
“Can we get something with a big bathtub? And a nice view?”
“No problemo!” The girl clacks away on her keyboard. “Alrighty, Room 501.” She produces two identical key cards, handing them over to Kuroo. Kenma sighs before taking out his credit card to pay. Yaku will not be too happy about the added expenses.
“A bathtub, huh?” Kuroo at least makes himself useful and grabs Kenma’s luggage. “Got any special plans?” He wiggles his eyebrows at Kenma as they head towards the elevator.
“Yeah,” Kenma grabs one of the keycards and sticks it in his coat pocket. “I’m gonna drown you in it and then order a whole apple pie for myself,” He sighs dreamily.
“You’re a sadistic little Angel.”
“You,” Kenma jabs at Kuroo’s chest, “are an annoying ass Reaper. You better not get on my nerves this weekend or I will report it to Yaku.”
“Okay, okay,” Kuroo laughs, hands raised in surrender. “Relax a little. It’s gonna be fun.”
“Maybe for you,” Kenma grumbles, trying not to think about the buttload of paperwork this assignment came with.
“Aw, cheer up,” Kuroo laughs, pinching Kenma’s cheek and tugging on it lightly. “At least I’m here, right?” Kuroo probably means that in a joking kind of way but Kenma can’t help but silently agree.
🤍🖤❤️
Kenma had been too preoccupied with his thoughts about Kuroo and apple pie earlier to fully appreciate the situation. Only when he enters the hotel suite and takes note of the singular bed in the middle of the room does he regret ever speaking to Kuroo.
“Looks comfy,” Kuroo whistles.
“Enjoy the floor,” Kenma offers a sly smile at Kuroo, throwing his carrier onto the bed.
“No fair!” Kuroo whines.
“I heard the bathtub’s big, you can try sleeping there,” Kenma suggests, taking his coat off and letting his wings out. He stretches them out, flexing his shoulder blades and rolling his neck. A definite downside of having to be visible to humans: he has to keep his wings in. That’s why Kenma much prefers incognito assignments. Especially if there are cats involved. Sadly, this assignment involves no cats and lots of people. And dealing with Kuroo too now, apparently.
“Don’t be a jerk, the bed’s big enough for both of us. Even with those flashy wings of yours.”
“I paid so I get the bed. You can sleep elsewhere, freeloader,” Kenma yawns, rubbing at his eyes. He hadn't realized how tired he was. Travelling always sucks the energy out of him.
“You didn’t really pay. You used your angel money to buy it,” Kuroo scoffs. “Come on, you already let me stay. Let me sleep on the fancy bed too,” Kuroo continues to whine.
“Uhnnn,” Kenma groans, flopping face-first onto the bed. It’s a comfy bed, just the right mixture of cushion and firmness in the mattress. “Fine. Gods, you’re so annoying.”
He thinks he hears Kuroo say something after that but Kenma’s already drifting off to sleep and doesn’t clearly make out the words, barely taking note of the bed dipping when Kuroo lays down.
🤍🖤❤️
It’s dark when Kenma wakes up again, but a decent amount of bright city light shines through the large windows of the hotel suite. Kenma stretches and sits up. He sees a dark mass to his right: Kuroo, completely dead to the world, softly snoring.
Kenma ignores him though, reaching for his tablet to fill out the rest of his check-in report. It was a simple assignment; make sure the bride’s wedding goes smoothly. Wait, correction. The brides’ wedding. Weddings seem like the exact opposite of a good time if you ask Kenma but he’s sure he can suck it up for a couple of days.
Kenma continues to read the case assignment and fill out the necessary forms on his tablet before Yaku can send a message about his untimely status updates. Just as he’s finishing up, Kenma feels a weight fall onto his lap. He nearly drops his tablet when he sees Kuroo snuggling up in his lap, his arm thrown lazily around Kenma’s waist.
He’s still asleep, Kenma realizes and his face flushes, fingers tighten their grip on his tablet to the point he’s afraid he might snap the thing in two.
“...Stupid...Reaper,” Kenma mutters. Kenma sets his tablet aside and carefully tries to extract himself from Kuroo’s grasp. Kuroo, with sleepy movements, grabs Kenma’s forearms and yanks him down. Kenma finds himself pressed up against Kuroo’s chest, Kuroo’s arm and leg thrown over Kenma’s body, keeping him in place.
Kenma thinks over whether he should push Kuroo off or not, debating if a sleeping Kuroo is a lesser evil than an awake one. But the longer he remains in that position, the more Kenma realizes it’s not entirely uncomfortable.
Fuck.
It’s fine. He’ll just wake up early (as unpleasant as that sounds) and escape then. Kuroo sleeps like the dead (maybe because he technically is dead?). It’ll all be fine. Hugging people in your sleep isn’t that weird of a thing to do anyway, right?
Kenma sends a silent prayer to the gods anyway. He swears he can hear Yaku’s laughter, right before he drifts off to sleep once again.
🤍🖤❤️
Kenma wakes up and it’s morning this time. And he’s still fucking cuddling Kuroo because that’s what happens when there’s only one bed. He feels like screaming or crying because his treacherous body is so comfortable and doesn’t want to get up even though he has to get up for work.
“Come on body,” Kenma groans.
“Five more minutes,” Kuroo mumbles into Kenma’s ear. Kenma scowls, feeling slightly more awake. Annoyance is almost as efficient as caffeine.
“Get off of me,” Kenma grumbles, flexing his wings out and knocking Kuroo away. Kuroo tumbles to the ground in a heap.
“Hey!”
“I gotta get to work. Don’t cause any trouble or anything,” Kenma grabs his coat and boots and his tablet, barely remembering to hide his wings before he’s out the door.
Smooth, very smooth. Totally normal. Way to go, Kenma.
🤍🖤❤️
Kenma manages to spend as little time in his hotel room as possible. Unintentionally even, since he’s swamped with the wedding assignment. He learns way too much about floral arrangements and centrepieces that weekend but the cake was pretty good at least.
The weekend passes by in a blur and it’s suddenly Sunday night. A stormy Sunday night at that.
Kenma sits on the plush carpet and looks out of the large windows in his hotel suite. A bolt of lightning cracks across the sky in a bright blue-ish flash, followed by the low rumble of thunder. Even though Kenma normally avoids loud sounds, there’s something about thunderstorms that are so captivating.
He pops a peach-shaped jelly into his mouth and keeps watching, mentally counting the seconds between the claps of thunder. He’s so absorbed in watching the storm, he doesn’t even hear Kuroo approach him.
“Hey, why did you turn all the lights off?” Kuroo, freshly emerged from the shower, pokes Kenma’s thigh with his toe.
“Storm watching,” Kenma offers Kuroo a peach jelly.
“Lights some candles at least. I can hardly see a thing.”
“‘Kay,” Kenma rises from his spot. It looks like the lightning has stopped anyway so some candles would be nice if he’s just watching the rain and listening to the thunder. He rummages through the desk near the hotel room drawer, recalling having seen some candles and matches there earlier.
Kenma grabs a few tea candles and the small box of matches and returns to his spot on the floor. Kuroo sits on the carpet next to him, snacking on Kenma’s peach jellies.
He kneels down, grabbing a matchstick out of the box and aligning the candles. Kenma strikes the matchstick against the box and… nothing. He tries again, using more force this time. The matchstick snaps in half. Kenma huffs, blowing his bangs out of his face. He sets the matches down and snatches his silk scrunchie off his wrist, tying his hair up and out of his face. Kenma tries to light a match again with newfound determination.
...Nothing. Not even a tiny little ember or a wisp of smoke.
Kenma resists the urge to throw the matchbox against the wall.
“Here,” Kuroo says softly and Kenma feels a pair of arms wrap around his middle. Kuroo’s larger, colder hands rest on top of Kenma’s smaller ones, guiding them gently. With a swift motion, Kuroo lights the match, moving Kenma’s hand over to ignite the candlewick. Kuroo rests his chin on Kenma’s shoulder and blows out the match causing smoke to swirl in front of Kenma’s eyes. Kenma’s heart goes into overdrive; he’s pretty sure Kuroo can feel it through his back.
“See, it’s not that hard,” Kuroo whispers, using the flame to light the other candles. The scent of wax, smoke, and rose petals waft in the air. Kuroo’s lips brush against Kenma’s exposed neck as he shifts backwards.
Kuroo doesn’t move and neither does Kenma.
They sit on the ground like that for a while, Kenma resting his head against Kuroo’s chest, their fingers eventually intertwining, watching the candlelights flicker and wane, the tranquil drumming of the rain the only sound to keep them company. The weight of Kuroo’s arms around him makes Kenma want to doze off.
“Kuro?” Kenma asks in a hushed voice.
“Yeah?” Kenma can feel the vibration of his voice, another reminder of how closely pressed together they are.
“Thank you,” Kenma says, curling further into Kuroo’s comforting embrace.
“For what?” Kuroo asks, amused. He wraps his arms around Kenma tighter, cheek squished against the top of Kenma’s head.
“Mmm… I don’t know? I just felt like saying it,” Kenma shrugs.
“Weirdo,” Kuroo mumbles against Kenma’s head but Kenma can hear the fondness in it. A smile tugs at Kenma’s lips, fondness swelling up in his own chest.
“We should go to bed now,” Kuroo reminds Kenma. Right, they’ll have to check out early in the morning and Kenma will have to go deliver his reports and sign off.
“I don’t wanna get up though,” Kenma pouts, even though Kuroo is right. Kuroo gets up anyway though and Kenma is disappointed for half a second before Kuroo scoops Kenma up into his arms and gently lays him down on the soft bed. Kenma refuses to let go, keeping his arms wrapped around Kuroo’s shoulders in a tight hold.
He hears Kuroo chuckle and then feels a gentle kiss on his forehead.
“I gotta blow the candles out, dummy,” Kuroo extracts himself from Kenma’s hold and since Kenma is still processing how lovely that forehead kiss felt he lets Kuroo go.
A few seconds later when Kuroo returns Kenma pulls him close and Kuroo lets him, wrapping his arms around Kenma. Kenma buries his face in Kuroo’s neck, swinging a leg over his waist. It’s a little odd, hugging someone who produces no body heat of their own. But the longer Kenma hugs Kuroo, the warmer Kuroo gets and something about that makes Kenma’s heart flutter, makes him feel like he never wants to let Kuroo go.
So for now, he doesn't let go. And neither does Kuroo.
🤍🖤❤️
The next morning, as he sleepily checks out from the hotel, the clerk at the front desk tells Kenma that Kuroo and he make a cute couple.
Kenma, stifling a yawn as he accepts his credit card back, mumbles back a soft 'I know, right?’
It’s nice, Kenma thinks, to see Kuroo be the one blushing for once.
“Hey, boyfriend,” Kenma links arms with Kuroo, resting his head against Kuroo’s shoulder after they exit the hotel lobby. “Make me some coffee?”
“Don’t do that!” Kuroo flushes, throwing Kenma’s hood over his head. Kenma peaks up over the faux-fur-lined rim; it’s snowing he realizes, glancing up at the cloudy, white sky.
“Do what?” Kenma asks, eyes twitching slightly so the snow doesn’t fall into them. The snowflakes cling to his eyelashes instead, melting quickly and hanging on as icy droplets of water as he blinks up at Kuroo.
Kuroo makes a funny sound before yanking off the maroon scarf wrapped around his neck. He ties it around Kenma instead, over his fluffy parka, so that it covers the bottom half of Kenma’s face. Kuroo adjusts Kenma’s hood, pulling it down further.
“Kuro, I can’t see,” Kenma’s voice is muffled by the wool scarf. He pulls his hood back slightly so he can at least shoot an inquisitive glare at Kuroo.
“That means people can’t see you either,” Kuroo nods approvingly.
“I’m invisible right now. So are you,” Kenma retorts, gesturing to their near vicinity to emphasize how the humans are walking through them right now.
“Haha, right,” Kuroo laughs. At least he looks somewhat sheepish.
“This scarf doesn't match my colour scheme,” Kenma says, adjusting it slightly. It smells like roasted marshmallows and a bonfire.
“I think it looks good on you,” Kuroo takes half a step back to admire the look fully.
“You still owe me some coffee,” Kenma starts walking again, no particular destination in mind.
“Anything you want,” Kuroo promises, linking their arms again, “Although, aren’t Angels the ones who are supposed to grant wishes?”
“I guess. Hmm...what do you want?” Kenma raises an eyebrow.
“You,” Kuroo grins, tapping his index finger against Kenma’s nose. He laughs when Kenma goes crossed-eyed looking at it.
Kenma clicks his tongue, “Cringe. But fine, waste your wish on something you already have. Less paperwork for me.”
“How can you be so romantic yet so brusque in the same breath?” Kuroo sighs.
“You’re still gonna make me some coffee right?”
“Should have asked for free food. Who knew Angels were this high maintenance?”
“No takesies-backsies!” Kenma warns, tightening his grip around Kuroo’s bicep.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
🤍🖤❤️
“What is it?” Kenma eyes his friend suspiciously. Shoyo rocks back and forth on his feet, vibrating with excited energy as the two of them walk through the halls of the Angel Dormitory.
“So I heard,” Shoyo starts, obviously trying to stay as calm as possible, “that you splurged on your last assignment.”
“What?” Kenma blinks.
“Yaku-san was complaining to Suga-san earlier about how he has to file a separate tax return form or whatever because you went over your allotted budget for that wedding assignment,” Shoyo explains.
Kenma grimaces, “Is Yaku mad?”
“Nope!” Shoyo smiles, like the cheery tangerine-y Angel he is. “Said he’d let it slide since it might’ve increased his chances of winning the bet.”
“What bet?” Kenma pauses. Shoyo doesn’t answer his question though, instead latching onto Kenma’s sleeve with excitement.
“You spent the weekend with Kuroo-san, didn’t you?”
Kenma flushes, yanking his arm back. “How did you know that?” He hisses, glancing around the corridor to make sure no one was listening in.
“You did!” Shoyo gasps with delight. “So, did you finally figure it out? I personally thought you would have like years ago but thank goodness I didn’t bet as much as Yaku-san and Kai-san—”
“Shoyo,” Kenma clamps a palm over his friend’s chattering mouth, “What are you talking about? How did you know about Kuroo and I? And what bet? ”
Shoyo, unperturbed, pulls Kenma’s hand off his face, “Well, Tsukishima-kun, Kageyama-kun, and Omi-san were all complaining about Kuroo-san disappearing for the weekend. And then I heard Yaku-san talking about you booking a couple’s suite for no apparent reason so I put two and two together!”
“Did you tell anyone else? Do others know?” Kenma can feel a sense of mortification building inside of him.
“Kenma,” Shoyo shoots him a look, laughing slightly, “if I figured it out, don’t you think others would have by now too? Even Kageyama-kun was saying how Yaku-san’s probably gonna win the bet at this rate—”
“The bet? What bet?” Kenma shifts his focus. He mentally cusses out Shoyo for being so chatty instead of getting right to the point.
“You know that betting pool going on about how long before Kuroo-san and you figure out you’re both in love and like practically married already,” Shoyo smiles innocently at him.
“Huh?” Kenma squeaks out.
“It gets updated constantly, like after every time you go to the Mortal Realm,” Shoyo waves a hand. “I’m pretty sure Yaku-san is in cahoots with a Reaper and keeps sending you on assignments in the same area at Kuroo-san. I bet it’s Inuoka-san. Lev once said he owes Yaku-san money,” Shoyo narrows his eyes with suspicion, humming conspiratorially.
Kenma can’t find any words so he lets out a pitchy strangled sound, slumping against Shoyo’s chest. Shoyo gently pats him on the back like the supportive friend he is.
“So... did you?” Shoyo asks after a few minutes, still lovingly patting Kenma’s back.
“Did I what?” Kenma groans miserably.
“Figure it out?”
“...Yeah…” Kenma mumbles against Shoyo’s shoulder.
“Yes!” he hears an ecstatic cry from somewhere within the dormitory walls.
“Yaku?” Kenma lifts his head up, brows furrowed in confusion.
“Noooo I was so close!” Another cry. Chaos continues to erupt in Heaven.
“About fucking time!”
“Pay up you losers!” He hears Yaku shouting again.
“Someone call Yamamoto, he’s gonna be so pissed.”
“Thank goodness. I was getting so tired of watching them.”
“Ah, nothing like a romantic getaway to ignite the embers of love.”
“Woah! Yaku-san you’re gonna be rich now!”
“Kenma and Kuroo, sittin’ in a tree~”
“Yeaaaah! Get it Kenma!” Loud hooting and whistling echo through the halls and Kenma wants to fling himself out of the sky right now.
“We should celebrate!” Shoyo shakes Kenma’s shoulders.
“I hate it here,” Kenma moans. He can only hope Kuroo is suffering out there too.
🤍🖤❤️
Meanwhile, in the Underworld’s Head Office:
“Why’s it so cold in here today?” Yamamoto asks.
“Daichi’s not happy about losing,” Yukie whispers, her normally sleepy eyes twinkling with excitement.
“Oh shit, it happened?” Yamamoto’s eyes widening in alarm. He fumbles to take his phone out and sure enough, it’s blowing up with notifications. “Where’s Kuroo-san right now?”
“In there,” Yukie jerks her head towards Daichi’s office door. A cold aura emanates from the door and Yamamoto finds himself shivering.
“Yaku-san must be partying it up in Heaven right now,” Lev laughs.
“Guess my application for a new suit isn’t gonna be processed for a while,” Akaashi shakes his head glumly.
“Come on, we couldn’t have lost that much money, right?” Yamamoto laughs nervously. The look Akaashi shoots him suggests otherwise.
“Aw, does this mean no more bonfire parties?” Kaori pouts.
“What’s gonna happen to our food budget now?” Kageyama frowns.
“Bye-bye meal cards,” Hoshiumi’s sighs. A chorus of boo’s and aww’s come from around the lobby.
“I heard if someone dies during a meal, you can eat the food after you collect their soul,” Yukie says.
“Really?” Kageyama blinks and Yamamoto is pretty sure that’s the most excited he’s ever seen him.
As everyone chatters about ways to get access to good food, Yamamoto tunes them out, glancing towards the door again. When it suddenly bursts open and Kuroo emerges, the room falls silent. Everyone holds their breath as they watch Kuroo close the door behind him. He turns to face them all, face blank.
“Daichi says I apparently owe you all a meal,” Kuroo smiles that tight smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. Yamamoto, having lost a decent amount of his savings in that bet, doesn’t feel all that sympathetic.
“Oh, Kuroo! How kind~”
“I want meat!”
“Sashimi!”
“Soba please!”
“You better buy us some alcohol too!”
“Don’t worry, Kuroo! You can ask your new Sugar Angel to foot the bill!”
Excited cheers and laughter fill the room as Reapers both congratulate Kuroo and thank him for the future meal, the cold atmosphere melting into a more joyous one. As sad as Yamamoto is about losing the betting pool, he’s happy for his friends finally getting it together and getting together.
(And well, the free meal helps to alleviate the pain of his losses too)
🤍🖤❤️