In The Field Where I Found You

~Chapter 11~

Kenma's face burned redder than the scarlet flowers surrounding them and Kuroo's face matched his intensity. Kenma looked to the side but was faced with Kuroo's strong bicep. It was still better than looking at his face.
"Kenma, look at me," Kuroo whispered, catching the attention of the man underneath him. As Kenma looked back up at Kuroo's face, something foreign touched his face. Specifically his lips. Kuroo's lips were warm and soft, yet full of emotion. Their lips barely touching, as if hesitant to dive any deeper, made Kenma's heart skip beats. Kenma was more than caught off guard and before he could process the situation he was in, Kuroo pulled away. Kenma was slightly disappointed. He wanted more of his touch; he wanted another kiss to connect them. But that would make Kuroo uncomfortable.
The kiss was probably an accident anyway...right? Kenma felt a bit of sadness well up inside him at the thought.
A weight was suddenly lifted off him as Kuroo silently pushed himself off the ground. Once Kuroo was on his feet, he held out his hand for Kenma to take. Their hands gripped one another's and Kenma was swiftly lifted off the ground and balanced on his feet. Kuroo reluctantly dropped Kenma's hand, not wanting to make him more uncomfortable than he probably already was.
Although it was just a stupid impulse, Kuroo didnt regret kissing Kenma. It had been the best split-second decision he had ever made, but he didn't know how Kenma felt about it. Anxiety bubbled in Kuroo's mind as he wondered about how Kenma now thought of him. Did Kenma hate him? Was he disgusted? Did he Pity him, even? No. Kenma wasn't that kind of person and Kuroo knew that, but the feeling of dread kept nagging at the back of his neck.
The two boys walked through the flowers of the field, silently admiring the oasis of trees and flowers surrounding them. Colorful buds swayed as a light breeze flowed past the boys and continued its journey through the trees. Kenma felt a chill run up his spine and he wished he had taken the time to think about grabbing a jacket before chasing Kuroo out of the house. Kenma wrapped his hands around his arms and slightly hugged himself, attempting to conserve body heat. Kuroo took his attention away from a white flower and placed it on Kenma's small form. He witnessed another shiver travel through Kenma's body and instantly felt bad for not telling him to grab his coat.
"Sorry, Kenma, I didn't expect it to get cold. Do you want my sweatshirt?" Kuroo had already started to strip the black sweatshirt off when Kenma nodded hesitantly. Kenma threw the sweatshirt on and was instantly warm. It was like taking a sweatshirt out of a newly dried pile of clothes and sensing the stale warmth seep into his bones. It smelled like Kuroo, too, the mixed scents of that unique cologne, mint, and the slight ghost of cinnamon filled his nose. It was Kenma's favorite smell—it smelled like home. Kuroo was his home, his best friend, and they spent everyday together. He was who Kenma could be his true self with. As long as he had Kuroo, he would be comfortable. He would be okay.