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“If anyone wishes to object to this lovely union, speak now— or forever hold your silence,” the priest declares as the ceremony begins.
Kuroo’s heart beats loudly in his chest.
I could do this, he tells himself. I could.
He opens his mouth— and shouts.
--------
“Wow, you’re old now.”
“Shut up, you’re older,” Tsukishima grumbles, making Kuroo cackle from where he lies on the grass.
“At least I get to simply eat some bounty meals, mourn another year closer to wrinkles and grey hair, and call it a day,” Kuroo jabs. “You, however, have your old age broadcasted to kingdom come! Could never be me, your highness.” He cackles some more.
Tsukishima whips his head from where he was picking at grass to turn back to him, glaring with all his might, and it send Kuroo a little bit more over the edge, makes him roll around to punch the ground and clutch his stomach as it starts to ache from the force of his laughter.
“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up, you son of a bitch,” Tsukishima rolls his eyes, but Kuroo’s laugh is contagious. The man doesn’t see how the corner of the prince’s lips turn up, which quickly slips back into it’s deadpan demeanor once Kuroo gets on all fours and crawls the short distance to where Tsukishima sits with his legs crossed.
“Loosen up, Tsukki! You literally just became 20, you wouldn’t want wrinkles before you reach 40, right?” Kuroo says, still laughing, albeit a lot breather and lighter than he had been, and he plops down on the grass unceremoniously before crossing his own legs and slinging an arm around Tsukishima’s shoulders a little too hard, the force of it enough to shake the blonde slightly. “Also you have to admit, it is a little bit funny.”
“It is not,” Tsukishima snaps back, but Kuroo knows it’s playful because the glare he directs at the grass he’s once again picking isn’t as fierce as it would be if he truly was angry, so he continues to rile the prince up.
“Fine, maybe it isn’t that funny. But Tsukki—“
“I could have you arrested for that,” Tsukishima cuts him off innocently, looking up at him, and Kuroo gasps dramatically, even puts a hand to his chest to add some flare to it.
“Your highness! I thought we’ve bonded!” Kuroo exclaims in mock despair, leaning his chin on Tsukishima’s shoulder as he sneers at the other’s face. The blond just turns away with a roll of his eyes, trying to put space between their faces.
“What bond? Royals never bond with servants beyond asking them to do their job.”
Kuroo slumps his weight on Tsukishima, who can’t help but snort when they almost bowl over.
“Your words deeply hurt me, my prince! How will I ever recover?” Kuroo exclaims leaning back to lie back on the grass, inevitably dragging Tsukishima down with him. He breaks character when Tsukishima makes a sound of surprise before trying in vain to squirm away, laughing as he brings his other arm around to keep Tsukishima on his chest.
Tsukishima continues to struggle, pushing and pulling at his arms while laughing.
“Let go, you brute! My clothes will be dirty!” Tsukishima complains in between laughter, but Kuroo pays him no mind, continuing his over-the-top monologue.
“But my dear prince, you must remember the sacred bound we hold as friends! Why, I still remember when a certain 7-year old blonde wanted to make me his bride—“ Kuroo teases, saying the words into Tsukishima’s reddening ear, who starts laughing and hitting him more with embarrassment.
“Oh fuck you! We do not talk about that!”
“Well I had to remind you somehow of your eternal love for me—“
“Lies! Lies and slander!” Tsukishima cries, elbows Kuroo in the stomach which makes the older lose his hold on the prince. He quickly rises up to a sitting position as Kuroo clutches his stomach at the sudden pain, before shoving Tsukishima’s back.
“Tsukki! That really hurt!”
“That’s what you get, you douche.” Tsukishima shoves him back.
“Your elbows are pointy! That’s not fair!” Kuroo complains through the onslaught of Tsukishima’s shoves, shoving back as well until they’re tired but laughing at familiar banter. Kuroo rises up on his elbows, considers Tsukishima’s back as the laughter drifts away, leaving them in comfortable silence.
He disrupts the silence gently with his words.
“You know, you are at the age when you have to think about marriage, don’t you?” Kuroo wonders aloud, and Tsukishima turns to face him, thoughtful.
“Yeah,” Tsukishima replies, looking off into the distance before cringing. “They’re probably going to start setting me up with people from distant kingdoms,” he said, voice thick with apprehension just at the thought of it. Kuroo tilts his head in slight doubt and genuine confusion.
“Would they truly arrange a marriage for you?” Kuroo asks. “I mean, the King and Queen seem to be fairly laidback— after all, when they found out about our friendship they did not force us apart or anything,” Kuroo points out, at which Tsukishima shrugs, turns his gaze down to the grass again. He starts fiddling with a particularly long one as he does so.
Kuroo’s eyebrows furrow at the stiffness of it, but he lets it slide, chalking it up to Tsukishima reluctantly agreeing with him.
“Well, maybe. Though they kind of have to, you know?” Tsukishima says. “I mean, if Akiteru was still alive then it would’ve been him, so,” he trails off, and Kuroo winces at how the other goes quiet, kicking himself internally in the ass.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to bring that up,” Kuroo apologizes. Tsukishima shakes his head, dismissing the thought.
“It’s fine, it was a valid question anyway, considering how much my parents value my own decisions too,” Tsukishima says, glancing sideways at him with a side smile that doesn’t last longer than a second. Kuroo thinks it fits him anyway, when the moon shines just right in that space of time on Tsukishima’s skin.
“I think, though, that they’d let me have a say in it, truth be told,” Tsukishima adds. “I know them; they won’t force me to do anything I don’t want to unless I really do need to, so that makes it better. Slightly.” He winces at the thought again. “Still not looking forward to the meetings that’ll come though,” he says, going back a few steps. Kuroo nods, fair enough.
“That would be boring,” he agrees, before looking up to watch the stars twinkle in the night sky. The breeze blows, making leaves dance and the stars weave in and out of sight, and he watches them twinkle as he’s deep in thought.
An idea sparks in his head.
Kuroo tilts his head, considering, before making side glances at Tsukishima who is still playing with the damn leaf.
He’ll never consider it.
Kuroo clicks his tongue, inhales as he tilts back his head.
Worth the try though.
He turns to Tsukishima.
“I have an idea.” The prince turns to him, deadpan.
“Oh no,” Tsukishima says blankly, leaning back before the arm that shoots out to shove him reaches him.
“Jerk, but hear me out,” Kuroo says, sitting up. “To be fair, I did think there’s only half a chance of you saying yes to this, but I figured it was worth saying.”
“Try again,” Tsukishima comments breezily, which Kuroo ignores.
“So what if,” Kuroo starts slowly, bracing himself, “if they do set you up, and none of them work— and by some miracle, you still haven’t married when you turn 30,” he pauses, thinks if he should say it before he thinks, I’ve already said this much, might as well say the whole thing.
“What if… we get married then?”
Tsukishima stares at him blankly, and it is silent long enough for Kuroo to consider laughing it off as one of his jokes until Tsukishima speaks up.
“How about you though? That means you’d have to wait for two years after you turn 30 yourself, and what makes you think you won’t be married until then?” Tsukishima says skeptically, to which Kuroo replies with more skepticism.
“What, you’re actually considering it?”
“Why are you so surprised?” Tsukishima says, bristling, shoulders lifting up slightly to his ears. “It was your idea, not mine. Besides, it’s an if, not a when. A lot can happen in 10 years,” Tsukishima explains, a little defensively, and Kuroo recovers fast enough that the blonde doesn’t completely back out of it.
“Then you answered your question!” Kuroo says, shrugging, dusting the bits of soil off his hands. “It’s an if— there’s an infinite amount of probabilities that could ensure that it never happens, plus, it’s me! It’s not like I’d force you to actually marry me then if you didn’t want to, you know,” he reassures the prince, whose face becomes unreadable for a moment.
“Just you,” he echoes, doubtful.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kuroo questions, confused. Tsukishima’s eyes qre unreadable before they slip back into his calm demeanor, sighing.
“Nothing,” he says, and Kuroo lets it go. “We got a deal then?”
Kuroo shifts gear, now grinning in faint excitement.
“Yes, your Highness.”
Tsukishima scoffs at the honorifics, but the smile on his lips betrays the act.
Kuroo thinks the stars compliment it well.
Kuroo mostly forgets about it after that.
Well, not really. Just that he doesn't think about it as much until he remembers it's a thing that he, Kuroo Tetsurou, said in the first place.
Tsukishima walks into the study, the slamming door startling Bokuto from where he was reading a passage from a history book, and he plops down on the seat on his right unceremoniously as he shucks the coat of his formal wear.
Kuroo snorts, totally unhelpful as Bokuto pats Tsukishima’s shoulder comfortingly.
“I’ve got to say— the Queen does work fast, doesn’t she?” Kuroo comments, in lieu of greeting him, and Tsukishima groans, crosses his arms on the table before laying his forehead on his arms.
“Can we not talk about it?” Tsukishima mutters, the sound muffled in the confines of his arm and pressed into the table. Bokuto looks at him, sympathetic.
“Poor soul, you must be tired,” Bokuto says sympathetically, patting him more on the shoulder. Akaashi doesn’t even bat an eye.
“It is unfortunate to be suddenly thrust into that sort of business within just a month of your coming of age, but please Bokuto— if you will just finish the passage and answer the question—“
“But Akaashi, I’m comforting our friend! We’re friends, aren’t we? And friends don’t let the other cry alone—“
“In half an hour we will be friends,” Akaashi interrupts, and Kuroo barely conceals his laughter at how Bokuto’s face suddenly falls, downcast in the blink of an eye. “Right now, I am your tutor and you are my student, so let the prince breathe for a while and do your tasks, please?” He says, and Kuroo can’t stop the snort that leaves him as Bokuto grumbles and goes back to his studies.
Tsukishima huffs as he props his chin on his folded arms from beside Bokuto, exasperation clear as day on his... pouting... face.
“I told you to drop the honorifics, Akaashi,” Tsukishima says, and Kuroo blinks when he feels Bokuto’s foot accidentally bump his ankle when he stretches his legs, looking away from Tsukishima’s pouty lips to hit Bokuto intentionally, hiding his laugh when Bokuto startles and looks up at him.
“Just like what I told Bokuto, we will be friends in half an hour. Right now I am here in a professional sense,” Akaashi reasons as he fixes sheets of paper in front of him, piling them in his hands as he bounces them on the table to neatly stack them. Meanwhile, Bokuto squints at Kuroo, who looks back at him as if to say ‘me? I would never,’ while raising his hands in surrender.
Akaashi and Tsukishima pay them no mind.
“So in that case, my prince,” Akaashi continues pointedly, and Tsukishima exaggerates the roll of his eyes with his head as he leans on the backrest of the chair. “I don’t think I will,” he finishes smoothly, and though his face doesn’t show it his eyes are full of amusement. Tsukishima huffs at him, while Bokuto still goes on narrowing his eyes at Kuroo, even as he hesitantly goes back to studying.
Bokuto looks down at his books before kicking Kuroo’s calf, who barely stops the swear that almost comes out of him. He glares before hooking Bokuto’s ankle with his and tugging as hard as he can, to which Bokuto suddenly squeaks. They look up at each other and turn away from the two conversing at their sides to muffle their laughter in arms and fists.
“You’re full of shit,” Tsukishima declares, frowning at Akaashi who continues to regard him with the same calm look on his face.
“Language, your Highness,” he says, to which Tsukishima frowns at him more. The mere sight of it distracts Kuroo, makes him stare long enough that he doesn’t have time to prepare himself when Bokuto goes and just stomps at his leg, which makes his knee jolt and hit the table with a loud bang.
“Fuck!” Kuroo shouts, startlingly loud in the peaceful aura that the study drapes them in that mellow afternoon, and Bokuto cackles, clutching his stomach and pounding a fist on the table as he bends over to laugh, and Tsukishima’s lips quirk up when the papers Akaashi had been organizing becomes unruly once again. Kuroo starts wheezing, leaning back in his chair forcefully enough that he almost tips over if Akaashi wasn’t there to shoot a hand out to pull the back of his chair upright with an unamused look on his face, and it’s not even anything to write home about but Bokuto snorts, obnoxiously loud, which sends Kuroo off again.
Tsukishima looks up at the ceiling in a prayer to strike him dead.
“And you are fucking children,” Tsukishima states, annoyed at their antics. “What are you both, 12?” He demands, and Kuroo turns his attention to him, still laughing a little. He starts acting like a damsel from a poorly-written romance, pouting up a storm and blinking rapidly at Tsukishima, who is definitely not amused at the display. Akaashi settles for pinching the bridge of his nose when Kuroo squeezes into his space in his need to piss the prince off more.
“Tsukki! Is that any way to talk to your perhaps— if fate allows it— bride?” He exclaims, and Bokuto, whose laughter suddenly fades in mild alarm and confusion, meets Akaashi’s eyes, that ask if Bokuto knew anything of this. Bokuto shakes his head.
“The hell are you talking about,” Tsukishima says, more of a dismissal than a question.
“You promised me eternity!”
“I’m leaving,” and he does, lifting himself out of his chair before turning to Akaashi. “I’ll come back after I talk to my parents and when Kuroo stops acting like he’s hit his head four times in a row.” Akaashi sighs, waving him off as Tsukishima turns. Kuroo gapes, and then doubles down on the act.
“What? My prince—“
“Bye,” is Tsukishima’s exhausted reply, slamming the door behind him as he exited the study.
Kuroo is still chuckling as he leans back into his seat, until he notices Bokuto’s surprised expression, mouth hanging open at him. Kuroo blinks and turns to Akaashi who is looking at him like a problem he needs to fix.
“...what?” Kuroo asks slowly, bewildered, and Bokuto gasps, affronted, slamming his palms on the table loudly. Akaashi turns his stern gaze to Bokuto and throws his hands up.
“Would you please stop slamming the table for crying out loud—”
“What the hell was that?” Bokuto demands at the same time, before turning to look at Akaashi sheepishly. “Sorry, Ji,” he says, and the other just sighs, looking at the other, still fond as ever—
“What? And, excuse me, what the hell is that?” Kuroo, endlessly bewildered, motions to them both, and Akaashi raises an eyebrow while Bokuto waves him off.
“Old news—“
“That is not old news! You never told me—“
“—and we’re talking about you here,” Bokuto cuts him off, face more serious than when he was studying. Kuroo looks between the two men, mouth dropping open at the blatant corner they pushed him into, and Akaashi rolls his eyes, fixing the papers once again.
“Bo’s right—“ Kuroo squawks indignantly, because since when was that a thing— “and we’ll talk about us later,” Akaashi compromises, pointing to himself and Bokuto to emphasize ‘us’.
“We have more important matters to talk to, like you saying that— if my hearing doesn’t betray me— Kei promised you an eternity?” Akaashi presses, and Kuroo stares, before rolling his eyes.
“Ah, that,” he says, to which Bokuto replies with an affronted “What do you mean ‘that’? Explain.”
Kuroo sighs before rolling his eyes and clasping his hands together on the table.
“Fine, if I must,” he says airily, before shrugging. “I made a deal with Tsukki to get married at 30 if we aren’t to other people! I won’t force him of course, we don’t have to, but we agreed on it. That’s all there is to it, really.”
A beat of silence passes, and then two, as Bokuto and Akaashi look at him like he’s grown a second head. He looks back at them nonchalantly, and when they realize that he is, indeed, serious, Akaashi just sighs like he lost a few years of his lifespan.
“Did it not occur to you that this would pose a problem?” Akaashi asks, and Kuroo... is still confused.
“What? It’s harmless!” Kuroo says defensively, and Bokuto groans, stretching his arms and lying his head on it before looking up at him.
“It is, or would be— if it is purely platonic,” Bokuto explains tiredly, and Kuroo stares at him, blinks, then laughs. Hard. Bokuto sits up again, dumbfounded, looking to Akaashi to check if they’re seeing the same thing.
Akaashi’s eyes narrow as Kuroo waves him off.
“Believe me, this is purely platonic!” He exclaims. “I mean, this is Tsukishima we’re talking about, right? He’d never like me!” A pause.
“Well, he wouldn’t now ,” Kuroo corrects, remembering a younger Tsukishima from almost a decade ago who hung around him all the time, “but the point still stands. We’ll be fine,” he reassures them, but Bokuto and Akaashi still frown at him.
“Kuroo,” Akaashi says, slowly. “That’s just Kei. What about you?” Kuroo stares, then laughs it off, standing up.
“What about me?” He spreads his arms, as if to showcase just how unbothered he feels about it even though some part of him wants to crawl out of his skin, like the rug was pulled out under him and suddenly he doesn’t know what to feel—
“Well that doesn’t take into account your feelings. Just his,” Akaashi points out. “So what about you?” Kuroo reels from the question.
“Well, I’d be fine as well! It’s me, Tsukishima’s friend. It’s not like anything has to change, doesn’t it? It’s not set in stone, we’ll probably forget about it by the time we’re 30, so don’t fret about it too much, you worrywart,” Kuroo rambles, doesn’t care how much he’s said but he’s just answering their question, right? No harm, no foul.
Before Bokuto could open his mouth to retort, he interjects.
“I’ll be going. Bye,” he says, a little quicker than he should, and walks out the door before anyone could call out to him, palms sweating and shaking minutely but he ignores it.
He tries not to think about it then, about the uncomfortable weight settling in his chest at their words, especially Bokuto's. To other people, maybe it would've been a problem, but he's Kuroo, and Tsukki's Tsukki, and they'll be fine!
They'll be fine.
"Stop thinking about it," he scolds himself, muttering as his footwear echoes against the concrete of the castle's hallways. It's probably nothing, just them being paranoid— nothing to worry about.
After all, he has chores to do.
Kuroo’s breath shakes slightly as he breathes out, and he runs a hand through his own hair, shaking the thoughts away before aiding the other servants in cleaning the rooms of the castle.
“Hey.”
“Oh, Christ,” Kuroo swears, startled enough that he jolts from where he’d been watering the plants mindlessly. Tsukishima snickers, and Kuroo throws him a dirty glare.
“What’s the idea here, sneaking up on me like that?” Kuroo demands, and Tsukishima snorts, rolling his eyes as he waves off the other’s accusations.
“Nothing! I just wanted to talk to you,” Tsukishima says, and Kuroo narrows his eyes before sighing. He looks out unto the plants and considers.
“Well, I’m pretty much done here anyway. Let’s move,” he says, walking towards the bench a few meters away, made for royals to lounge on but certainly not for servants like him. He hesitates, and Tsukishima catches him doing so, rolling his eyes.
"It's just a bench, sit down."
"Sorry, instinct," Kuroo says, smiling sheepishly before sitting down, and it is silent for moments before—
"My parents had me meet someone," Tsukishima tells him, and Kuroo doesn't understand the heavy feeling in his chest. He ignores it.
"Well, yes. As they have been doing the last 6 months," Kuroo replies, teasing, and Tsukishima huffs.
"Not the point," Tsukishima says as he lets out a few breathy laughs, looking to the side, and Kuroo admires from his peripheral how his hair looks like golden wisps in the sun, how his skin then glows in the light, the blush in his cheeks becoming deeper from the heat as a pearl of sweat drops from his temple to the start of his cutting jawline.
Kuroo blinks and looks down on his fidgeting and sweaty fingers, soil crusting under parts of his nails from gardening. His pants are worn and wet in some spots, a faded color breaking at the seams.
"So who did you meet?" Kuroo asks anyway, and Tsukishima looks in front of him, at the plants that are still glowing from the dew on its leaves.
"Some prince from the north," Tsukishima answers, a faraway look in his eyes. "Not the eldest of his siblings, just the first man. Snarky, a little dumb in the head, wasn't good at smiling or conversation either—"
"You sure that's not just you?" Kuroo teases, and this time Tsukishima huffs indignantly.
"At least I can pretend to be polite, excuse you," he says defensively, then looks down on his hands— soft, not a trace of hardship in the lines of it. Something in his stance changes, and Kuroo's stomach is in knots for unknown reasons, or maybe reasons he doesn't want to entertain, but it slaps him in the face at the sight of Tsukishima, as if he's gone soft, wondering.
"He was nothing but reserved, fierce, and it should be unbecoming but-" a pause, a thought.
"He had eyes, blue and full of petulant honesty, and it feels... like a breath of fresh air? Something new in a world where impressions are long-lasting and your image should always be refined," Tsukishima finishes, and Kuroo watches the fond look in his eyes, the ghost of a smile on lips that could've been mistaken as painted, if they weren't as chapped as they are—
"You just met him," Kuroo points out, feels the need to, and Tsukishima nods.
"Well yes, of course. I could be wrong about him after all," he amends, and Kuroo doesn't know why he bristles at that, at the breezy dismissal of the worry underlining his own words. "But don't you think it's promising?"
Tsukishima turns to him, a glint in his eyes that has been revived ever since the matchmaking started.
Kuroo's stomach sinks.
He doesn't understand— shouldn't he be happy? Tsukishima clearly looks happy right now, is finally looking forward to something after endless complaints of meeting new obnoxious people who stick their chins a little too highly and giggle a little too much to be pleasing, but Kuroo feels his stomach twisting, sinking into itself. It churns, and an unknown primal part of him is suddenly making itself known with bared teeth because what if this person hurts Tsukishima? What if they aren't good for him?
Kuroo wouldn't take it if Tsukishima gets his hopes up, just to see him crash from the high and struggle to get to that same point once again.
"That's... good," and it tastes bitter on his tongue, "but be careful. Whoever they are, they could still be hiding something. Not everyone is that honest up front."
Kuroo then feels a stab of shame from the passive aggressiveness in his tone, from the way he feels the need to just sharpen his claws and protect Tsukishima; but even then it's ridiculous because the prince could clearly handle himself! Not to mention the fact that he has knights and that he definitely doesn't need a servant commoner to protect him but—
'It's fine, I'm just looking out for my friend,' Kuroo tells himself.
It should be fine.
"I know, I know, don't be such a mother hen." A wave of shame and embarrassment hits Kuroo then.
"But I get what you mean— of course I'll be careful," Tsukishima adds, then looks at him with a smile warm enough for Kuroo to forget the sweat dripping down his forehead, the grime in his hands. Tsukishima hesitates then, but speaks anyway, glancing down and away as he speaks.
"Thank you, Kuroo," Tsukishima looks back at him, and Kuroo would tease him if it wasn't so sincere, and so rare for the prince to bare his genuine feelings out like that.
"Always," Kuroo replies, muttering, and he smiles as genuinely as he could, before they both snap to a voice that comes from behind.
"Your Royal Highness," Daichi says, wearing comfortable clothes as opposed to his usual uniform as the commander of the royal knights. "The queen has been asking for your presence."
"Commander, I didn't know you were getting back today!" Kuroo greets, grinning at the man, who rolls his eyes despite the mirth in them.
"Daichi is fine, polite isn't a good look on you," the man teases, ignoring Kuroo's teasing "oh really now?" as he turns to Tsukishima.
"Would you like me to accompany you back to them?"
"No need, I'm fine," Tsukishima waves him off, before standing up and dusting off his priced clothes. Kuroo stands as well, dusts as much soil as he could off his hands before saluting to the both of them.
"Well I'll be going first! The gardening won’t finish itself," Kuroo says, before turning to Tsukishima and blurting out.
"Tell me more about it when something happens, okay? Tell the queen I said hi." He doesn't wait for a response until he's turning a back on them.
As he's gathering his tools, he overhears the end of the conversation.
"You tell Kuroo about the courtships?"
"They're not courtships, and yes. Do I have any reason not to?"
"Well, my Prince..." It's clearly teasing, but as Kuroo walks away he doesn't hear the rest of it, already making his way to the other side of the annoyingly huge garden.
It's probably nothing, just Daichi being Daichi.
"Asshole," Kuroo mutters, laughing to himself, and the thought leaves his mind completely as he waters the plants.
Kuroo learns more about Kageyama Tobio as the years go by in a flash.
He learns that the boy had darker hair than his, eyes as blue as the ocean— younger, just as honest as Tsukishima said he was, in actions and in words. He pouts up a storm and rains stuck up royals with words much more piercing than hail, and he has all of Tsukishima's attention locked on him, even if it shows in mocking insults and teasing jabs.
Kuroo finds out that he is passionate, that he constantly chases after his own dreams, that if he wanted to he would climb mountains no matter the steepness of cliffs and the rockiness of the soil just to get what he wants. He learns that Kageyama Tobio is gifted, with a mind that is highly focused on the vision he sees in the distant future, and that he inspires Tsukishima to become more assertive, to be unafraid of consequence so long as he's in the right.
Most of all, he learns that Kageyama Tobio owns Tsukishima Kei's nights, and days, and the breaths in between. He owns his smiles, the twinkle in his eye, his smart remarks and his wicked gazes— and that 6 months into their little dance around each other's orbit he will own Tsukishima's sighs, his groans, and his choked release.
So Kuroo resigns himself to being on the sidelines, a friendly face around the castle, and he tells himself it's fine, it's always been like this, hasn't it?
"Oh Tsu— my Prince!" Kuroo catches himself when he sees Kageyama appear next to Tsukishima, and the blonde frowns at him but doesn't say anything about it. "Good day to the both of you," he bows instead as he passes by, heart aching for reasons he doesn't think about, in hopes of forgetting it altogether.
(He never will, not one bit of it, because it hurts so beautifully, so tenderly, like a lover you'll never call yours.)
He continues walking past them, doesn't look too hard at Tsukishima's curious stare, at the indifferent look on Kageyama's face, is almost out of sight just as he's turning the corner but then his name is being called.
"Kuroo!"
He pauses, slowly stares to turn to them, seeing how Kageyama regards Tsukishima both in curiosity and confusion, who is looking at him with little hope in his eyes.
"Can you come over here? I don't think you've officially met each other."
"I don't think that's necessary," Kuroo replies slowly, chuckling awkwardly, but he approaches them again, stands in front of them from a distance. Tsukishima waves him off with a roll of his eyes.
Kuroo feels only a little embarrassment when he realized that he missed Tsukishima looking in his direction.
(It's hard to get his attention these days, especially when Kageyama is around.)
"Nonsense, but don't worry. I won't keep you for long. Tobio-" first name basis huh? Kuroo notes- "this is Kuroo Tetsurou, one of my personal servants and my childhood friend." A pang, a slash, a cut.
His heart continues to beat regardless.
"And Kuroo, this is the King—"
"Fuck off, I'm not a king yet," Kageyama butts in, huffing, and Tsukishima smirks at him fondly.
"Please, you act like one anyway," he snidely replies, and Kageyama rolls his eyes, shoving him lightly. The familiarity burns Kuroo's eyes.
"Anyhow, I just wanted you to meet each other, since you're here almost everyday," Tsukishima teases Kageyama, who raises a challenging eyebrow in response, "and I barely see you these days, Kuroo, so I figured this would be a good opportunity."
'And whose fault is that?' Kuroo almost says bitterly, but he opts instead to laugh, already backing away slowly.
"I've been around, just busy cleaning and doing my job," Kuroo says vaguely, gesticulating lightly. "You know, the one which I should definitely be doing. It was nice meeting you, your Highness." He bows politely, which Kageyama returns, quite surprisingly.
"It was nice to meet the famous childhood friend too," Kageyama responds, smiling evenly, and Tsukishima nods.
"Well, I'll see you around, Kuroo," Tsukishima says, waving to Kuroo with a small smile. "I have to return this one or else my mother would have my head." Kageyama scoffs, but his eyes are alight with amusement, affection, and Kuroo watches them turn his back to him, walking away.
He becomes an unwilling witness to how their hands slowly reach for each other, until they're intertwined, and it burns itself into his mind even as he turns away, heart pounding as it is squeezed by the green-eyed monster within him.
Kuroo buries himself in work then, in chores, ignores the pointed looks Bokuto and Akaashi throw at him every time they manage to rope him into staying with them whenever they visit the kingdom.
He hides behind smiles and laughter, in the kitchen and the garden to avoid the looming truth that Tsukishima is yet to tell him about. In truth, he's not sure he even wants to know, but he doesn't think about it, shoves it to the back of his mind.
He doesn't think about it until 3 years after meeting Kageyama— a total of 4 years since they made the stupid deal that, for some reason, became such an important thing in Kuroo's mind— Tsukishima sits beside him, quietly.
Kuroo had been reading a book that seemed interesting after dusting the library as soon as Bokuto and Akaashi left. The four of them had been talking, albeit with Kuroo being forcefully louder and Tsukishima looking slightly somber. Akaashi and Bokuto glances flit between the two of then with worry, but they don't say anything, opting not to pry— of which Kuroo is eternally grateful for. When they left, it's with comforting pats on the shoulder and gentle smiles, with expectant gazes to the both of them, and Kuroo just nods at them, smiles in gratitude in response.
He mutters a quiet excuse to Tsukishima, who remains in his seat while fiddling with his slender fingers, and Kuroo watches him for a few seconds before tearing himself away, dusting the shelves and coming back with books that seemed interesting enough to pass the time with.
He slides one of them over to Tsukishima, just beside his hands, and the other takes it without looking at him, but Kuroo stays quietly, just sits beside him as he starts reading the book.
He gets into it, clock ticking loudly amongst the white noise of birds and the rustling of leaves outside the open windows of the library as he reads.
"Have you ever fallen in love, Kuroo?"
Kuroo pauses, just as he's reading the part where the heroine is gazing curiously at the main lead who is tending to her scratches after a short-lived squabble that the lead managed to save her from, eyes never leaving the book.
"Maybe," he says slowly, eyes stuck to the part where the heroine watches the concentration on the lead's face as he takes extra care with her wounds, "why do you ask?"
"Nothing, just thinking out loud perhaps," is Tsukishima's non-committed reply, and Kuroo nods distractedly as he flicks to the next page.
The heroine starts to consider the main lead in a different light, besides knowing him as her right hand man and her greatest ally.
"It's beautiful, but it hurts, just like jumping into the deep waters of an ocean," Tsukishima says quietly, and Kuroo looks at him from his peripheral, at the way he traces the curled and damaged edges of the old book, keeping his eyes on it just as Kuroo desperately tries to do so. Kuroo goes back to his book.
He's just reading the heroine's flashbacks to an event parallel to the one before her when Tsukishima begins speaking.
"The water looks crystal clear, looks tempting, and you find yourself slowly walking away from the edge, watching the water slowly go up from your toes, then your ankles, until you're knee-deep and you can't see the sand swirling around your feet anymore." The words are quiet, and Kuroo listens to it, all ears, the words on the page in front of him second to the quiet of Tsukishima's thoughts.
"You stand there for a bit, getting used to it, and for a second you just stay there because you see just how vast everything is, and you're reminded of how dangerous the ocean actually is; but the sea is calm, and the sea feels good on your limbs, so you go further, deeper." Tsukishima pauses, takes a deep breathe in, as if he were really about to take a deep dive into calm, salty waters.
"Then you dive in."
The heroine thinks about how different the present is from then, how she could get used to this— same cut, but different cloths. Kuroo reads the next paragraph.
"You dive in, and it's so much better than what you thought of it to be. The water is cold on your skin, and at first you shiver but then you adjust, and it starts to feel fine. You swim in it, bask in it even, and you think you can get used to this, just swimming, free from land and air."
'I could learn to love this,' the heroine says, but her mind still goes back to a different person, from a time she's left behind, and she continues to wonder then, if she could ever leave it behind. Kuroo nods, both in understanding the book and to Tsukishima's words, and he continues to scan the book.
"But then it starts to get to much, starts to squeeze in your lungs, and you start to panic when you realize you've gone much deeper than you originally planned, right? So you panic, try to find sunlight until you break free between the gentle waves and you can see the shore once again. But then now the air feels cold on your skin, and walking on land feels a little too tiring, and you wonder, 'will I stop feeling this way?' But the water continues to call out to you, just behind you."
The heroine then looks at this person, who looks at her so tenderly, so kindly, and maybe she could get used to this, to him, but then—
"You don't go back to the beach for a while. You go to other ones, and the experience is better this time, because you're used to it by now, but your mind always goes back to that one beach, those clear waters," Tsukishima finishes— maybe, probably. He pauses, as if at a loss for words, and Kuroo waits it out a bit, reads some more.
'It's been you all this time,' the heroine thinks, when the main lead calls out to her as she stares at him in a daze, flustered when he touches his palm to her forehead to check for a fever. 'It's always been you.'
Kuroo huffs, turns the page, before finally looking up to Tsukishima, who is looking at him intensely. He blinks.
"Were you listening?" Tsukishima asks, and Kuroo rolls his eyes softly, the edge of his lips curling in a side smile.
"Of course I was, what do you take me for?" Kuroo mutters, turns the page before folding the corner, making Tsukishima cringe despite himself. He closes the book, turns to him.
Amongst the familiarity, of each other's presence being the most comfort they've felt since from then until now, Kuroo's stomach sinks, because he feels like he's lost a race he wasn't even able to join in. It feels like defeat due to missed opportunities, and to time wasted behind walls of laughter and friendly remarks.
"So you love him?" Kuroo asks anyway. Tsukishima continues to stare, gaze unreadable.
"I do," comes his simple reply, and for some reason it feels vague, even if they both know who Kuroo is referring to, but he doesn't let himself hope, just smiles a bittersweet one.
"Then it shouldn't matter if the ocean is scary, right? So long as you love it."
"You think so?" Tsukishima asks, and it feels pointed, like the blonde wants to cut him open just to see everything he has to hide, and Kuroo almost bristles except, no. It can't be.
Hope is a foolish thing.
"I guess," he says, opens the book once again despite feeling Tsukishima's gaze still on him. He reads.
'He can't know,' the heroine says. 'He can't, not yet. Soon, when the time is right.'
'When we can love as freely as winter welcomes spring.’
"Tsukishima Kei, my Prince, your Highness– you have every single bit of respect in my body that I can offer you, but what the fuck?"
"Can we go back to the part where you respected me? I liked that," Tsukishima sighs, eyes deadpan as Kuroo looks at him, enraged for reasons unknown.
Yet again, Kuroo asks himself.
Shouldn't he be happy? Isn't this what he wanted?
He looks at Tsukishima, who meets his gaze dead on— his eyes filled with misplaced determination.
Why? Why would he—
"Why would you want to turn Kageyama down?" Kuroo asks in disbelief, staring down at where Tsukishima sits on the edge of his bed, hands propping him up as he stares up at Kuroo, as if in waiting.
"You're not happy?" Tsukishima asks— vaguely, out of the blue. Kuroo stares.
"Why are you asking me?" Kuroo demands, and the storm of emotions within him becomes stronger, shakes him to the core, and Tsukishima just keeps staring at him with that unreadable gaze.
Kuroo doesn't know what he wants.
Hell, he doesn't even know what he himself wants.
"Nothing, but to answer you question..." he says slowly, pointedly— "it doesn't feel right," Tsukishima answers finally, looking away, towards his window.
The view outside Kuroo's window isn't fit for a heir, much less one destined to be king— in fact, if anyone outside the castle had anything to say about it, a kilometer within people of Kuroo's status is not a place for the soon-to-be king to be prancing about, much less be a ground willingly walked on by royals such as the Tsukishima's. However, in the years Kuroo had known them, they had never conformed to these age-old rules— they had welcomed him with open arms, with accepting smiles, even when Tsukishima declared him all those years ago as his best friend, of which Kuroo was definitely not worthy of.
Kuroo had prided himself in knowing them, especially considering the fact that he'd grown in the castles long enough to confidently say he could easily read them— but in that moment, he's never been more confused because here is Tsukishima, handing to him everything— well, almost everything— he's ever wanted on a silver platter.
What's his game? What is he trying to do?
Does he know?
Kuroo forces himself to push that thought away before he spirals even further.
"Why?" Kuroo asks instead, eyebrows furrowed. "I just... I don't understand. You've loved him for what, 5 years? Why would you throw that all away?"
Tsukishima just closes his eyes, huffing in mild frustration, before standing up, walking past him and opening the door.
"Figure it out," he says before closing the door, and Kuroo stares at the space he previously occupied, dumbfounded.
Kuroo hates it, the feeling of missing out on something that's just under his nose, that's right in front of him— or maybe he knows exactly what it is, just that he's too scared to make that jump, that leap of faith to proudly define or believe that it is what he thinks it is, because hope is a foolish thing, and he's already spent so many years of his life being the fool even without it as the cherry on top.
It all comes to a head a year later when, after slipping from Tsukishima's 26th birthday party to go to the place where it all started— that fucking stupid deal, who even let him do that?— he looks up at the sound of angry feet stomping on grass and finds a drunk Tsukishima stalking towards him.
Kuroo rises to his feet immediately, hands reaching out to catch Tsukishima's arms.
"Tsukki—"
"You're so fucking stupid!" Tsukishima shouts at him, shoves him hard enough that Kuroo stumbles back— but then he's balling his fists into Kuroo's sweater to tug him back into his space until they're breathing each other's air.
"I'm tired of waiting," Tsukishima growls it into the space between them, and it's criminal, how Kuroo shivers as his breath fans Kuroo's lips, how his eyes hold him captive in their depth and intensity. "I've spent my whole life— my whole fucking life— on you, loving you, and I'm done waiting for your stupid fucking ass to figure it out for yourself."
Kuroo opens his mouth— to say what, he didn't know— but all that comes out is a gasp that's muffled by Tsukishima's lips, who kisses him roughly, desperately; and he tastes like liquor and sin and of dreams and wine, so when it sinks in that 'it's happening, it's real,' he surrenders, melting into the kiss.
They pull away, chest heaving as if they ran a marathon, and his lungs are short of breath but the beat of his heart is invasive in his ears, and Kuroo wonders how is it possible to have all the air in his chest be robbed but to still feel like it's the most alive he's ever been, as if the gift of life itself was kissed into him.
They stand still, another pocket in time where it's only Tsukishima and Kuroo, Kuroo and Tsukishima, and as they breathe each other's air Kuroo deliriously thinks, 'I could get used to this.'
Breathing as one, loving as one, coming together and becoming whole.
"Do something about it," Tsukishima whispers so softly that Kuroo barely hears the slur in his words, and maybe it's the champagne from the banquet or the deceiving quiet of the night that makes him throw all precaution in the wind, consequences be damned.
Maybe it's the way that it felt like the stars shone for them, for him.
Tsukishima pulls him in again, and Kuroo lets himself be pressed against the wood of an oak tree, hands attaching themselves on Tsukishima's waist. He pulls away, sees slick and kiss-swollen lips before leaning back in for more, more, more—
Kuroo blinks, looking away from Tsukishima's lips when the words sink in, and he forces a smile on his face, tries to hide the bitterness and pain that is sure to show in his eyes if he isn't too careful.
"I'm happy for you, Tsukishima."
"What happened to Tsukki?" Tsukishima blurts out, eyes widening as if he didn't mean to say it, but his eyes look mildly hurt because he knows exactly what Kuroo is doing.
But he has to, for the both of them.
"Figured this was a good time to finally drop it," and the words stings his tongue like needles, piercing his heart. "You never liked the nickname anyway."
Tsukishima presses his lips together, as if he wants to say more but knows he shouldn't, so he doesn't. He just looks away.
Kuroo watches him as if it's the last time he'll ever see him— and maybe back then, it was almost true.
------
"I figured it out," Kuroo says, as he leans his back against wood, playing with the grass that tickles his crossed legs as he seats on the ground, slowly becoming soaked in dew, and Tsukishima stares at him, eyes soft and forlorn.
"Took you long enough," the newly-turned 29 year old blonde says, lightly, but they both know that he means it.
"Yeah, well," Kuroo chuckles, but it's barely there, almost lifeless, like a rose on the verge of turning black, the last petal before it falls to the floor along with the others, "some things got in the way."
------
"I'm surprised that you're out here, Kuroo," Daichi comments as Kuroo fixes the flower arrangement on the aisle along with the other servants of the castle. "I thought that you'd be with his Highness."
"He doesn't need me there," Kuroo replies simply, and truthfully. "Besides, I heard that there were royals from other kingdoms who came to see him anyway before the wedding. I'm sure they can handle it."
"But I thought that you and the prince are close?"
"King now, right?" Kuroo chuckles, looking up at Daichi, who's looking at him as if he's a map he has to decipher, or a problem he needs to fix. "Besides, there are a lot of royals here. They won't appreciate seeing him with me," Kuroo explains, looks at Daichi as if he's someone who should mind his own business.
The knight just sighs, lets it go, and Kuroo moves on to the last set of flowers he has to fix, breathing again.
"Just because he'll be a king after this, doesn't mean you have to lose your bond with him," and Kuroo knows he's right, so he hides the bitter smile that comes unbidden, before schooling his face into indifference.
"Nothing important's lost, so you need to stop worrying. What are you even doing here, don't you have a post to guard or something?" Kuroo says, waving him off with a carefree grin- he hopes it is- and Daichi raises an eyebrow, but says nothing.
"Fine, but I'm always here to talk."
"Yeah, yeah," Kuroo dismisses him, and the other walks away, but as soon as he's gone Kuroo begins playing with the petal of a white rose, a bitter smile on his face.
Everything's happening the way it should be.
He should be happy.
Kuroo checks for out of place leaves or flowers before finally stepping out of the grand hall.
The wedding of the royals Tsukishima Kei and Kageyama Tobio was a beautiful and tragic blur in Kuroo's eyes.
Despite the preparations being quite hurried and frantic, due to Tsukishima finally saying yes to Kageyama a year after his 26th birthday before deciding to schedule it just 6 months after, the staff of the king and queen had worked hard to make sure that the wedding was still as grand as ever. The king and queen had overseen everything, approving every small bit for their only son's marriage, and Kuroo had been tasked to do the heavy lifting along with the other male servants, so Kuroo can't help but still feel a bit of satisfaction from seeing all their hard work pay off.
It lasted for about a few moments until the trumpets sound, and the music to signify the start of the wedding rises in volume, and Kuroo's hit with the earth shattering realization that this was it, this is where it all ends.
He watches from the stands as the king gives Tsukishima away tearfully, and feels his heart break as the blonde stands with the raven haired man at the altar.
“If anyone wishes to object to this lovely union, speak now— or forever hold your silence,” the priest declares as the ceremony begins, and for a second he thinks, what if?
It would be so easy.
Kuroo’s heart beats loudly in his chest, overpowering the calm ambience of the chapel in his ears amongst the quiet murmurings of the commoners that he stands with.
'I could do this,' he tells himself. 'I could.'
He opens his mouth— and shouts.
"Just get on with it, already!"
Good natured laughter rings out in the chapel after Kuroo's declaration, and the servants laugh loudly, clapping, beginning chants of "All hail the kings!" He sees Tsukishima freeze, almost looking out towards his general direction when Kageyama catches his attention instead, and Kuroo watches his face morph into reassurance, and even when it aches he doesn't look away.
He should be happy.
When they exchange vows, Kuroo hides defeated and pain-filled tears amongst the happy cries of the crowd and of the royal families.
At the reception, he slips away after helping in serving the meals, careful to not come close to the Tsukishima's vicinity.
"You don't have to pretend," Bokuto whispers as Kuroo sets his plate down, and he tenses, suddenly conscious of his mildly red and swollen eyes, and nods subtly, looking at Bokuto with all the sincerity he can muster.
It's only a second, but Bokuto sends him off with a sympathetic smile. Akaashi too, when Kuroo passes him by in his haste to slip away.
When he slips into the servants' quarters, and into his own room, he locks the door shut.
Kuroo cries, for a love that was almost returned— almost.
"You know, I feel stupid," Kuroo tells Kenma, who hums.
He normally doesn't see the other a lot, doesn't really get out of the castle due to chores, to duties, and— if he were being honest— to free time he'd rather spend with Tsukishima. However eversince the marriage, he tries not to stick around for too long, lest he show his face to Tsukishima. He faded into the background, as he should've done a long time ago, only becoming a familiar face amongst the servants of the castle that now fully belongs to Tsukishima and his rightful husband.
He started going out of the castle then, going back to his old friends near the outskirts of town, one of them being Kenma, and in the two years that have passed he told the other most of— if not everything— what had transpired, all the while the other nods and hums.
"You're stupid," Kenma had said at some point, and Kuroo furiously agrees now, but what's done is done. Besides, who is he to do anything about it? Maybe it was always meant to be this way.
Tsukishima the king, and Kuroo the commoner. Nothing else.
He sighs.
"I keep holding on to it," Kuroo mutters as he lies on Kenma's bed, stares at the wooden ceiling, and Kenma continues reading just on the floor beside him, flipping a page.
"To what?"
"Remember the deal I told you about? The one I— you know," he says, suddenly unable to say the specifics, even though he's been better at dealing with the stab of cruel hope at the mere thought of it, the resounding "fool!" that he hears in his head whenever he thinks, 'what if?'
It would've been so easy.
But life is cruel, and promises could be broken, so it never is. Never could be as easy as they hoped it would be.
"Ah, that," Kenma says, and Kuroo snorts lightly, just to lighten the mood.
"A part of me keeps holding unto it, you know? I keep looking forward to it but I know that... it can't," Kuroo says, softly, because any louder and maybe he'd shatter once again, and he's no stranger to the feeling of breaking, of wounds splitting open and scars itching in great reminder of its presence and what put it there, but it doesn't hurt less— just becomes familiar, instead of strange, foreign.
It's a reminder of living through something that had died.
"You're human, Kuroo. You're allowed to hope," Kenma says bluntly, and Kuroo knows he's right, but—
"I just wish I did something," Kuroo says, sighing, a little regretfully.
"Do something about it."
It echoes in his head.
Echoes louder when about 2 years later, word gets around that the kings had divorced quietly, but on good terms.
Harmful rumors were shut down immediately by the royal staff, but all Kuroo hears is that the king is now free once again, and that maybe, he has a chance.
The insecurities, past fears, shadows of the past come back to haunt him, and Kuroo hesitates, thinking maybe he shouldn't after all, because would life really allow what fate has come in between time and time again?
The answer comes in the form of a king who has matured over time, whose features still remain angel-like, soft, as if time hasn't touched him at all, except that he stands taller now, and his eyes are more humbled by the merciless duty of running a kingdom.
Kuroo's eyes widen when he looks away from the servant who departed from him and sees Tsukishima across the corridor, talking to Daichi. He's hit then with déjà vu, a memory from 4 years ago resurfacing when they were both younger and, perhaps, more foolish than they are now.
But even when he looks changed, different from the Tsukishima he has in his mind from the last personal encounter they've had, it's still him, always him, and Kuroo finds that he's still weak as ever at the sight of him, with the addition of the subtle forehead wrinkles that weren't there before, the longer but somehow softer blonde hair, the shadow of facial hair on still soft but tanner skin—
—and golden eyes, more liquid honey than gold bars, more of home than the plain walls of his room, that are now looking at him widely with something like hope and a little of yearning.
He blinks, realizes that in his daze the two have noticed his presence already— Tsukishima, with his mouth slightly open in shock, as if he's a ghost or a lost memory that has resurfaced, and Daichi, who looks between the two of them with relief, amusement, and fondness. Kuroo forces himself to snap out of it, and he walks, bowing politely in front of them.
"Sir, Your Highness," Kuroo greets politely, nodding to the both of them before walking past them quickly before he stutters on his feet again. He tries to walk as fast as he could without making it look suspicious, but Tsukishima calls out to him just as he turns the corner, and he almost snorts at how similar it is from then.
“Kuroo!”
“Yes, your Highness?” Kuroo says as he turns to the both of them slowly, and Tsukishima gives him an exasperated look, almost corrects him before he thinks better of it, opting to sigh instead. Kuroo can’t help but grin, and a part of him rejoices at the familiarity.
‘I can get used to this,’ he thinks, and maybe this time he could.
“I didn’t know you were here,” the blonde says, and Kuroo knows what he means, but he can’t help but think of its implications, the underlying meaning just below it in fine, fine print.
“What do you mean? I’ve always been here,” he says easily, and it feels like the first breath of air after breaking through the water's surface, that first beam of sunlight after the darkest storm that lasted for what felt like ages.
"Of course you are," Tsukishima replies as he breathes out a laugh, and when he smiles it feels like something clicks into place, and the gears continue turning, the puzzle continues to be completed, and life goes on.
Kuroo smiles in acknowledgement and nods to the both of them— sheepishly, at Daichi, who he admittedly forgets was there for a few moments— before finally continuing on his way.
He feels eyes on him as he walks away.
"Now you're really old."
"Do you have to do this every single time?" Tsukishima huffs indignantly as he steps closer to where Kuroo sits on the grass cross-legged, leaning back on the bark of a tree.
"What? I'm simply admiring your old age."
"You're older than me, and that's not what I meant," Tsukishima sighs, continues standing to admire the view, eyes drifting far away into the distance. "I meant this, you slipping away all the time. It's almost like you don't want to be caught."
"Don't be dramatic," Kuroo says, chuckling lightly as he picks a singular grass leaf from the ground, plays with it between his fingers. "It's just that it feels off, being there when the place is full of royals and people richer than a thousand of me."
"You don't always have to let your status think for you," Tsukishima says, and without looking Kuroo can hear the frown in it, and his lips quirk up at the thought of Tsukishima pouting at the very ripe age of 29.
"You're sheltered, Tsukki— well, not really, but you're the king. What would you know about that?"
Kuroo looks up as he lightly says those words, but Tsukishima is staring at him with an unreadable gaze, serious enough that it slightly unsettles Kuroo.
"Don't give me that look, it's just the truth."
"Well yes but," the blonde says, pausing as if he still can't believe what happened, "you called me Tsukki."
Oh.
Understanding dawns on him, and he blinks at Tsukishima.
Does it bother him that much?
"Should I... not?"
"No!" Tsukishima blurts out before Kuroo can even finish the last word, and then his cheeks bloom lightly, a faint rosy color that the new tan of his skin hides better, but not totally.
"I mean, it's fine," he stutters, and Kuroo smiles at him in endearment as the other looks away. "I just... you haven't done that in a long time."
"True," Kuroo agrees, nodding, and he goes back to looking at the grass before his gaze inevitably goes back to Tsukishima, who takes a few steps forward and crosses his arms over his chest as he continues to admire the view. Kuroo watches his back.
He realizes then that they're not the same people they were.
It's subtle, and there were no violent events that caused it, but it's still there, in the way that Tsukishima's back is straight, firm, finally losing the slouch he opted for 9 years ago. He bets if he looks closer, there'd be a few lost strands of silver in his hair from ruling a kingdom the size of the one Tsukishima has in his hands, appearing when the moonlight catches it right. Then there's the tan in his skin, from going out more to galas and meetings with people outside the castle and such, a testament to how hard he works to continue what his parents had left him, even all on his own.
But he's still Tsukishima, in name and in face, in touch and in words, in spirit and in soul. He is still the same boy that Kuroo loved, that Kuroo loves, that Kuroo will love— even after all the time he's spent denying himself of it, mourning love instead of celebrating and cherishing it. Kuroo can't take back time, Tsukishima can't either, but all they have is today, the next second, the minute after that, and the hours and months and years to come, and so he watches and stares and thinks,
They've come so far, haven't they?
From kids who thought of love as nothing as a breeze to being taken by its force, stuck in the eye of it all. They played the game they started in the first place, or maybe that was just Kuroo, who's held unto it like a vice, something to look forward to in the hope that what if... maybe...
"We've come full circle, haven't we?"
Tsukishima nods in question, turning to Kuroo, who meets his gaze evenly. He shrugs, motioning to everything with his eyes and a lazy wave of the hand that drops back to the dewy grass.
"Remember your 20th birthday? We made a deal, right?"
It takes Tsukishima a bit, but when it does his eyes widen, his mouth slacks open in in shock and astonishment.
"You remembered?" Tsukishima says, astonished. "Ku— Tetsurou," Kuroo blinks to hold back the sudden onslaught of emotions that he feels at the sound of his own name on those lips. "It's been years now."
"I know, but I remembered," Kuroo says, smiling the way you would at a story you've read a long time ago but haven't revisited, or a house with chipped walls, loose wood, with creaky floorboards, while still remembering what it looked like the first time it was built.
"How could I ever forget? It was you."
Tsukishima lets out an audible gasps, and in the moonlight, his eyes are golden, tinged with blue, and with every color that Kuroo loved, loves.
"Tetsu..."
"There's other things too," Kuroo said, smiles lightly at Tsukishima. "Remember when you told me you've been thinking of turning Kageyama's proposal down, and told me to figure out why? Something like that."
"I think I do," Tsukishima says slowly, eyes staring at him but they are clouded, in his effort to remember. Kuroo can't help but chuckle.
"Okay, I remember it now," Tsukishima nods to himself, before refocusing his gaze on Kuroo. "It was at the library, right?" Kuroo nods simply, smiling.
"I see, what about it?" Tsukishima asks curiously.
"I figured it out," Kuroo says, and as he continues to fiddle with that single grass leaf, as his pants slowly become soaked in dew, Tsukishima stares at him, eyes soft and forlorn.
"Took you long enough," the newly-turned 29 year old blonde says breathlessly, lightly, but they both know that he means it.
"Yeah, well," Kuroo chuckles, but it's barely there, almost lifeless, like a rose on the verge of turning black, the last petal before it falls to the floor along with the others, "some things got in the way."
"Like what?" Tsukishima asks, hesitantly, as if realizing he's forgetting once again something important.
"You have a habit of forgetting, don't you?" Kuroo teases, and there's the muted sensation of pain, along with a short echo of embarrassment, but he's grown past it now, had to at some point. Tsukishima furrows his eyebrows, and Kuroo meets his confused stare still, not looking away even once.
"Your 26th birthday," Kuroo says, and he can almost see the gears in Tsukishima's brain working overtime. "You got blackout drunk, but before you passed out, you came out here."
Kuroo notes absentmindedly with misplaced hilarity at how convenient it must be, for everything to start here, change here, how they always seem to come back in the place they can call theirs.
They always come back to each other.
"Oh, God," Tsukishima says, something akin to horrified realization dawning on him, and Kuroo knows he remembers. He smiles softly, appreciates Tsukishima's reaction because it means that it was important, that Kuroo wasn't alone.
"Oh God, Kuroo," he gasps, eyes wide with horror. "I didn't—"
"It's okay, it's not your fault you didn't remember," Kuroo says, but then Tsukishima is glaring at him, and it surprises him, how his eyes are filled with misplaced anger, but then he's reaching out as Tsukishima unceremoniously drops to his knees to reach him, and he lifts himself from where he'd been leaning, holding the other by the arms.
"Tsukki! Your pants—"
"Why didn't you tell me?" Tsukishima demands, and Kuroo's mouth snaps shut as his slender fingers, roughened with time, clutch his face in a firm but gentle grip. "Hell, why weren't you mad at me?"
"You're not an asshole, if you weren't drunk you would've remembered," Kuroo reasons, and for some reason it sets Tsukishima off, leaning more into his space until their foreheads are touching.
"But still! I should've known better," he says, and Kuroo furrows his eyebrows, because why is he so—
"I don't... I can't understand how you'd let me hurt you," Tsukishima whispers, and Kuroo is surprised then, at the sudden tears in his eyes, at the ones in his own, and his breath is shaky all of a sudden.
"You didn't mean to, and it was partly my fault too," Kuroo whispers, eyes roaming over the other's face. "I could've said something but..."
He pauses, words lost in his throat until he exhales and then it's pouring out, like a glass that's finally over pouring.
"It felt like I was robbing you of so many things," he breathes into the space between them, and Tsukishima's eyes shine brighter with unshed tears, but he doesn't seem aware of anything but Kuroo, and his words, and Kuroo wonders how did he miss that all this time.
"You were the heir to the throne, everyone's future king. I can't take that away from you, and I most certainly don't fit—"
"Stop that," Tsukishima whispers furiously, thumb swiping across Kuroo's cheek as he does. "You never would've, you know that I—"
"Tsukki—"
"I've held you on a pedestal higher than almost everything, and I— I would've dropped everything for you," Tsukishima confesses, and his voice breaks as the tears finally fall, and Kuroo drags an arm up his arm and then down, squeezing at his elbow as his other hand slides across his waist to pull him a little closer, greedy this time—
"I didn't want you to," Kuroo whispers.
Maybe because he knew then that if he did, it would've been selfish— robbing Tsukishima of the life he was meant for, and the kingdom of its the rightful king, and it was easier to think that Tsukishima would never choose him rather than realize that he was letting the other slip away from him willingly.
"And you didn't," Tsukishima replies, "so why are you still so hesitant?"
And isn't that a good question?
What is stopping him, even after all this time?
"I don't..." Kuroo tries to say, but Tsukishima interjects.
"If you're going to say you're not worthy, or that you're not fit to be beside me, save it. I don't want to hear you talk yourself down," Tsukishima says firmly, his hand drifting through Kuroo's hair, down his chest, then to his nape, gripping and playing with the hair that meets his neck. It makes Kuroo shiver lightly, makes him stare down at lips that continue to move.
"I just... God, you know I've never seen you in that light, right? I've never regarded you as just a commoner, just you, because you're- you're important to me, Kuroo," Tsukishima says, and it makes Kuroo warm, shakes him to his core, as if something within him is unraveling in a way that only Tsukishima can do.
"Would it kill you to be selfish for once?"
Kuroo thinks back on the 9 years that had gone by.
All through out he's denied himself of something just in his reach, like Adam in the Garden of Eden. He's been told in whispers, in silent stares, and dismissive pats to never reach for that forbidden fruit, just inches within his face, and now that it's in his hands, in front of him, touching his face, telling him to be greedy for once, then—
If heaven meant following rules, meant punishing one's self in pursuit of paradise, then maybe there's a reason why Lucifer chose to fell, why condemnation looked like freedom, like the reward they make heaven out to be.
Kuroo decides then, forbidden fruit dangled right in front of him, that maybe heaven wasn't for him.
He leans in for a taste.
It tastes like salt, like redemption, and Kuroo falls but it feels like soaring through the air before hitting the ground, and even when he hits solid earth his broken limbs are remade right here, in the movement of Tsukishima's lips, in his hands, molding him right back up and making Kuroo his, all his—
Tsukishima gasps as Kuroo presses further, like a thirsting man in the desert, like he's making up for the last nine years or so.
And there's still a lot to be settled, a lot they have to face, but it all feels so far away when Tsukishima's fingers are tangling in his hair, is settling into his lap in search for more, more—
When they pull away, heaving air right back into their lungs even if their kisses feel like rebirth, like Elysium, Tsukishima tries to get air back into his lungs but gasps as Kuroo kisses the skin right in front of him, just taking, finally letting his greed get the best of him—
"We've got a year left," Tsukishima says breezily as Kuroo kisses a line up his neck, across his jaw, before pecking the corner of his lips. Tsukishima pushes him away gently to look at him, and Kuroo smiles, bursting with love and affection for the man in front of him, and he chuckles.
Kuroo feels like he could face anything as long as he has Tsukishima by his side.
"Seems like we do," he agrees breathily, and Tsukishima snorts, pulls him right back in.
After all, a year more is nothing if it means finally calling Tsukishima his.