The Galaxy is Endless (I thought we were, too)

Chapter 8

Meetings were officially the bane of Kenma's existence. He felt as though he'd been sitting in the board room for hours, listening to his marketing manager talk about how sales had gone up for longer than was possibly needed.

He glanced at the clock for the thousandth time. He could be home right now. It was a Thursday, that was Kuroo's day off. There was no doubt in Kenma's mind that he had at least 6 unread texts asking when he'd be home, so Kuroo could stop working on his dissertation and they could goof off together.

"Kozume-san? Do you have anything to add?" The marketing manager asked him, evidently reaching the end of the most long-winded presentation Kenma had ever sat through.

Kenma smiled at him. "No, thank you, Watari. That was excellent. Are we finished for the day?"

The room all let out varying sounds and nods in affirmation; all ready to go home. "That'll be all then. See you all tomorrow."

Once all his employees had left the room, Kenma slipped his phone out of his pocket to witness exactly the barrage of messages he had been expecting.

Kuroo: i know u just left but i miss u already (09:21)
Kuroo: it's raining today, make sure u have an umbrella on ur way back (10:33)
Kuroo: u know whats a shitty colour? white. its too clean. gross (12:20)
Kuroo: bokuto says hi (12:25)
Kuroo: this is gonna sound lame, but i rly wish you were here rn (13:18)
Kuroo: <3 (13:37)

Kenma's eyes narrowed as he read the texts. While they weren't particularly out of character, there was something off about them. Kenma hadn't known Kuroo was meeting up with Bokuto today, that was the only explanation Kenma could come up with.

But it didn't put his heart at ease. He dialled Kuroo's number, letting it ring a few times, but ultimately being connected to Kuroo's voicemail. It was strange, Kuroo always picked up.

Without any further hesitation, Kenma picked up his bag, and left the office to make it home. It was an hour commute back to the apartment that he and Kuroo lived in, but Kenma usually didn't mind. It was typically an hour of silence where he could just think, or play games on his phone to numb his brain if he couldn't stop thinking.

Today he wished it was shorter, though, he thought while standing on the train. He wanted to be back sooner.

He was pretty sure he beat his record for how fast he could walk from the train station to their apartment, but he was sticking his keys in the door before he even processed that he'd finally reached home.

He was greeted with silence. It was dark inside, all the blinds were drawn closed, the only light seeming to come from the singular bulb in the kitchen.

"Kuro? Are you home?" Kenma called out after he hung his jacket and tie on the rack by the door.

The silence was jarring.

As he continued walking into the apartment, he scanned for any signs of Kuroo being home. There were pages of assignments that he had to mark still strewn across their kitchen bench, but that was all Kenma could spot.

Until he noticed Kuroo. He was lying on the couch, curled on his side, out of view from the front door. "Kuro?" Kenma called out again, approaching the couch, his heart thumping in anxiety. The TV wasn't on, he clearly wasn't asleep, so what the hell was happening.

Upon approaching, Kenma noticed how exhausted Kuroo looked. Dark circles that Kenma had barely noticed before rimmed his eyes, and his face was void of its usual liveliness. Kenma crouched down next to the couch, raising a hand to lightly stroke across Kuroo's forehead. "Hey," he whispered, uncertainty clear in his voice.

"Sorry, kitten, I didn't hear you come home," Kuroo whispered back, eyes blinking out of the daze he had been in. He immediately shuffled over, making room for Kenma to lie down on the couch with him like they had a thousand times before.

Kenma pressed their foreheads together as he lay next to him, intertwining Kuroo's hand in his own. "What's going on?"

Kuroo made a sound between a huff and a laugh. "I'm tired."

While Kenma certainly wasn't buying it, he trusted that Kuroo would tell him if he wanted to. Kuroo had been under a lot of stress lately, in his defence. Perhaps his PhD wasn't going well, or maybe the class he taught was more headache than he'd bargained for. Kenma squeezed his hand, a reminder that whatever he was going through, Kenma was right beside him.

"Yeah?" Kenma asked, giving Kuroo the space to keep talking if he just needed a little prompting. The situation oddly reminded Kenma of when they had first met; Kuroo had been even more quiet than him back then, a steady reminder of how much he'd grown.

Kuroo hesitated before speaking. "Just a bad day." His gaze was averted, not meeting Kenma's own.

"Okay," Kenma whispered, leaning into Kuroo to plant a chaste kiss on his jaw. "You mean everything to me." Kenma was glad that the darkness masked the crimson flush that found its way upon his face upon saying that; but it was days like this that Kenma would forsake his own inability to be affectionate, the need to remind Kuroo that Kenma loved him with his whole heart greater than anything else.

In response to that, Kuroo wrapped his arms around Kenma, holding him tighter. He buried his face in the crook of Kenma's neck, as though he was holding onto his lifeline.

Kenma was more than happy to be a lifeline for Kuroo; after all, he'd been one for Kenma his whole life.

A few moments passed with no sign of Kuroo letting him go. "Kuro, are you okay?" Kenma whispered, maneuvering one hand to run through Kuroo's hair. Kenma was aware that he couldn't see Kuroo's face, couldn't see what expression he wore.

"Can we just stay like this for a bit?" Kuroo mumbled against Kenma's skin. "Please?"

"Okay," Kenma replied, shifting his legs so they were as intertwined with Kuroo as the rest of them. He was willing to stay here for as long as Kuroo needed, and then even longer. Once Kuroo was ready to let go, he'd get up and try and cook something he knew Kuroo liked, then settle in and watch a movie, which would inevitably resolve into more cuddling on the couch. And if Kuroo's eyes were rimmed red from crying, Kenma wouldn't mention it, he'd just do his best to wipe away his tears.

But for now, he was content to lie with his soulmate, bodies intertwined, until Kuroo was ready to breathe again.