Chapter Text
They’re studying.
Or Tetsurou is, as usual, sitting cross-legged at the low table in Kenma's room, and Kenma isn't, instead lying flat on his back next to the table, staring at the ceiling like it has all the answers, and having seemingly given up.
Sometimes Tetsurou wonders how Kenma passes tests when he can't make it home from university to help him study. Sometimes he also wonders if this is simply a thing and he studies just fine on his own nowadays and only asks Tetsurou for study hangouts so that they can spend more time together and Tetsurou feels more pressured to come home because he doesn’t want Kenma to fail his exams. He wouldn't put it past Kenma to trick him like that. Well, jokes on Kenma because Tetsurou would come home anyway because he misses hanging out with Kenma whenever he wants.
“Kuro.”
He makes a questioning noise but continues writing. Maybe Kenma can afford not to study but Tetsurou can't. University is kicking his ass.
A foot nudges his leg, stays pressed there. But Kenma doesn't continue speaking and Tetsurou takes a while to really notice because he's buried that deep in his books. He blinks, looks down at Kenma. Kenma is still looking at the ceiling, phone face down on his stomach and hands interlaced on top.
“What's up?” Tetsurou asks.
“Is it weird to graduate high school without having kissed anyone?” Kenma says and now his eyes flicker to Tetsurou, sharp and attentive as always.
The surprise that hits him is a little bit like Tetsurou just jumped to block and somebody barrelled into him, making the landing that much harder and the fall that much longer.
Kenma and him don't talk about this stuff.
Best friends for 10 years and going strong and not once have they ever brought up the topic of relationships, kissing, or sex. Not between the two of them. Sure, when Yamamoto started conversations in the club room or Kai brought up his girlfriend the topic floated in the general direction and things got said, even if both of them stayed relatively quiet. But it never came up with just the two of them, never with Kenma actually interested in the conversation, never with Kenma starting the topic.
Tetsurou stares at him.
Kenma's already looking at the ceiling again like this isn't out of the ordinary, hair open and fanning around his head and it's so long nowadays. Inuoka had sent him a picture a few weeks ago, featuring a very loud-looking disagreement between Yamamoto and Kenma — followed by “They’re at it again. Why did you advocate for them to be captain and vice-captain?” — and it had taken Tetsurou a moment to notice the tiny ponytail Kenma was wearing in his freshly bleached hair. It was cute and Tetsurou had wanted to be there to tug on it so badly.
“Where's that coming from?” he asks, clearing his throat because his voice comes out weirdly rough.
“Something Tora said made me think.”
This is bad, Tetsurou decides. Actually, this is really bad if Kenma is taking Yamamoto's words seriously, is thinking about it enough that he speaks up on it, and asks Testurou about it. He puts his pen down and turns his full attention towards Kenma. Studying be damned, this is more important.
“What did he say?”
“That he was going to die a virgin if he couldn't even manage to kiss someone during high school.”
Tetsurou frowns. “That made you think?”
“No.” Kenma presses his foot harder into Tetsurou’s leg and uses the leverage to stretch his whole body before he sits up, hair now rumpled from rubbing along the floor and phone dropping to the ground, forgotten. His eyes fix on Tetsurou. “He asked if I'd make a deal with him that he could kiss me if he didn't find anyone until graduation.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
Kenma nods as if that as a reaction is enough to confirm his own opinion of the matter.
“Wait, no, back up a sec,” Tetsurou says. His brain is feeling like molasses right now, sluggishly processing each of Kenma's words and trying to make sense of them. “He asked if you'd kiss him so he wouldn't graduate without being kissed?”
“Technically Tora asked if he could kiss me. There's a difference in participation there.”
“Don't be a smartass.”
“It's the truth though.”
“And what did you say?”
Kenma looks at him as if he's stupid because the answer is so obvious and why are you being this dense, Kuro? “I pitched a volleyball into his face.”
“So you said no.”
“Of course, I said no,” Kenma says with conviction as if there's no reality in which he'd have said yes. Which is reasonable considering they are talking about Yamamoto. “I'm not some consolidation price. And he's into girls anyway, so why would he even consider it.”
“Well, you're his friend. Friends sometimes do things for each other even if it's out of pity or stupidity.” Tetsurou shrugs his shoulders. “And it's not like he asked you to make out. It's just a kiss.”
“So you'd have said yes?” It’s not judgment in Kenma's voice. It's more along the lines of disturbed curiosity.
“I-” Tetsurou pauses, feels a sudden flush of embarrassment, and looks down at his books. There’s really only one person he’d say yes for. “No. Not for him.”
“For who?” Kenma asks, then audibly grimaces. “Actually, no, I don't care.”
Tetsurou chuckles, glances at Kenma. "Oh, but you do. It's written all over your face.”
“Do not.”
“Do, too.”
“Do not.”
“Do, too. And anyway, there's nothing wrong with not kissing anyone in high school.”
Kenma hums, hand reaching for his phone and Tetsurou can see the end of this conversation looming.
He continues anyway, “Some people never kiss anyone until after university, and some even never kiss anyone in their whole life and survive it just fine. It's an individual thing. There's no set plan to live your life after. So tell Yamamoto that his senpai says he's got nothing to worry about.”
Kenma's eyes flicker up to meet his and Tetsurou grins. Kenma’s nose scrunches up in annoyance. “Don't be so full of yourself, you haven't kissed anyone either.”
“And how would you know that?”
“You'd have told someone. And someone would have been Yaku to lord it over him and Yaku would have brought it back up in front of others to embarrass you. None of that happened, so you haven't,” he says like he's explaining to Tetsurou how his own brain works. And he's not that far off, he could absolutely see himself do that but still, he's wrong. At least this time.
"Well, consider this, Kenma. Maybe I respect the other party involved enough to not use them to rile up Yaku,” he says, doing his best to keep his voice even.
Or maybe it just had been Yaku on the other side of that first kiss and neither of them was interested in spreading that around, so they unanimously decided to stay silent on the topic. And maybe he's not ready to be honest about it, about how he likes both girls and guys and the idea of it twists up his stomach, makes him break out in a cold sweat and his hands shake if he thinks too long about it. Telling Kenma is unimaginable at this point. He knows Kenma and wants to say he knows that he wouldn't care but if he did, if he cared just a little and voiced the slightest negative words, it would ruin Tetsurou. He can't take that chance.
Kenma’s eyes find him once more, a little too wide, mouth slightly open around a silent noise and surprise written all over his features. The question would be at what? At Tetsurou keeping a secret? Or at Tetsurou having kissed someone? Maybe both. Or maybe he figured something out. Kenma's smart but it makes Tetsurou's breath catch uncomfortably. He waits a beat, then another but the question he expects — “Who?” — doesn't come, and after a second more, he picks up his pen again and points it at Kenma's phone, ignores how Kenma is still just staring at him. He forces out, “Now put that down and get back to studying.”
“You’re not in charge of me,” is Kenma’s automatic reply as he hunches forward and pulls his phone closer to himself, grip on it tightening. Because Tetsurou absolutely will reach for it to take it from him because he can and has done so in the past. And he'd win the ensuing wrestling match over it because he's bigger and has more endurance, even if Kenma fights dirtier — he dares to use tickling and pinching to his advantage. Tetsurou stands above that.
“You wanna test that theory.” Tetsurou makes as if to move, breathing easier again at the familiar territory, and Kenma's whole body twitches back, eyes wide for a different reason now and watching him with laser focus. It's been a while since they had any reason to roughhouse. It used to be fun but nowadays Tetsurou isn't sure he could handle it. But he needs to keep up appearances. “I'll give you three more seconds.”
Kenma blessedly is never up for it — those rare occasions where he was, usually had some other issues pent up and hidden somewhere — but Kenma usually at least drags things out a bit longer. This time he just sighs and drops his phone back to the floor without further protest and Tetsurou considers himself lucky. Kenma reaches for his own pen instead and drags a book into his lap. “You're such a bully.”
“Yeah, whatever.” Tetsurou sticks out his tongue at him. “You still love me.”
Kenma only rolls his eyes and hunches further over his books.