What are the odds

6

"Kuroo," Kenma's soft voice startles the older man from the chemistry homework he'd been focussing on. He turns his attention to his friend who was sitting on his bed, game for once discarded on the bed next to him and phone in his hands instead. "Have you heard from Karasuno's 11? The tall blond one?"

"Who Tsukki? no why?" Kuroo asks with a laugh.

One thing there is to know about Kenma, he hates making eye contact and Kuroo lets him get away with not making eye contact with him, so when the smaller boys golden eyes meet his own, he knows his best friend is being serious.

Of course, the eye contact does make his heart flutter a little before he comes to this realisation.

"Shoyo and his team were meant to be driving back last night, he hasn't replied to my messages," Kenma explains, his worry for the little crow clear on his face.

"Maybe he's still sleeping?" Kuroo suggests rolling his chair over to the bed so that he's sitting in front of his best friend. Kenma's eyes flicker to the clock on his side table disbelievingly, the clock that now read 12:56pm in blockey red letters.

"Kenma, you did just wake up an hour ago," Kuroo points out. But even that small comparison caused a weight in Kuroo's chest. He knew that no matter what, shrimpy always replied to Kenma's texts, even if it was just to say he couldn't talk at the moment. And on top of that, even Kuroo knew the boy was an early bird, no matter what time he went to bed.

Kenma was fiddling with the hem of his way too large t-shirt. It takes Kuroo a moment to recognise it as one of his own that his best friend must have put on last night before the had fallen asleep at their little impromptu sleepover. From how much of the milky white skin of his best friends legs were exposed, he could safely assume that he likely wasn't wearing anything but his boxers underneath. That knowledge was quite distracting.

Kenma sighs, leaning his head forward so that his forehead came to a rest at Kuroo's collar bone, his hair falling around him like a curtain hiding his face. The older of the two instinctively brings up his hand to card through the bleached strands of hair. "His probably fine, maybe he's just sick of me,"

Kuroo didn't have to see his friends face to know that he probably had a small self-depricating smile. The captain stills before gently and carefully wrapping his arms around the small boy, giving him time to pull away if he wants. "I think it would be just as easy for shrimpy to get sick of you as it is for him to get sick of volleyball," He tells his best friend completely honestly.

Kenma doesn't say anything but he does bring his hand up to clutch at the shirt Kuroo was wearing as if to forbid the other boy from letting go.

"He'll be fine, if you still haven't heard from him by the time you complete the next few levels of your game, I'll call around and see if anyone else has heard from him or anyone else in the team," Kuroo sooths.

They sit for a moment longer, each wishing they could freeze the moment in time before sadly pulling away and getting on with their own things.