#also yall caught the ts reference

[samubytheocean]

Kuroo Tetsuro, and whatever teenage is.

Last summers end just before you come to a closure about whatever childhood was, and from there it’s all a rush to somewhere else- and at last, in the car ride, you wonder if one thing had been different, would everything be different?

Fluff

Because Kuroo, that tall, lean, built, handsome man that he has grown up to, now you realize that you’ve loved him all these years along. Now you see the stupid dances, the new years countdowns, the dumb traditions you’ve laughed at your friends fussing over, he has been right next to you all along. Growing up is cruel, and funny. Because finally, like the late summer afternoon breeze, it sweeps you over that in his laughter, there always had been some glaze of hope. It always had been you, in the corner of his gaze.

And it pains you to look over at the window, at the passing of the neighborhood you knew by name. Each turn is an age, and if anyone asks you, you can almost act out all those memories, so dear and, God, so you. The walks home, where Kuroo had his arms around Kenma, nagging at his posture and you laughing. The scent of the frame is so clear, because even then his other hand was hovering across yours, only inches away. That space between, now looking back, you sheepishly almost dare to hope to fold and have those young, dumb hands meet.

It truly is a beautiful thing, you think that behind the word teenage, maybe people came up with the form of it, because nothing will truly capture that time other than muttering out wistfully, truly that was the age of something. Something. Something. You wish it was something. You wish you did something, said something. To whisper out an invitation to the movies you went with him and Kenma a little different. To have had the chance to truly look at his nervous eyes before the match and give that hug a second longer, just enough for Kuroo to even guess if both your heartbeats bass the same. To have held his hand, just yesterday even. You could’ve, and it’s bitter because even then you knew, that “stay” from you could have lighten his desire to take the step to believe in love, as doubtful and afraid he is of it secretly in the inside.

But you pass his house. The blur, soundly familiar with the unspoken you now have the wisdom to name love all along makes you look back for a moment longer. In the movies they’d turn the car around, and you’d come running into the house for a breathless kiss, a perfect ending to a coming of age movie. That cut would be perfect, the credits coming up before crowds wonder about the monstrosities of entering college with a long distance relationship back home. That ending, careless and too easy, that you honestly long for right now, would be perfect.

Lost in you thoughts, you almost miss the ringing of your phone. Almost shameful, although not knowing why you should be caring about now recognizing your feelings about your childhood best friend, you hurriedly answer without looking.

“Have you left yet?” Kuroo’s rushed voice spits out as soon as you tap the screen. Instinctively, although you don’t know why, you step on the brakes in the middle of the streets, pulling up the the nearest corner.

“I- no. I mean I am.” You hush out. You don’t recognize your voice, and it would have made you laugh if you weren’t busy trying to figure why the hell you were so desperately getting out of the car, unfamiliar tears fogging up your senses.

“Oh.”

“I’m right by your house though. I-“ you cut him off, just for him to interrupt almost helplessly.

“I have to tell you something- God no there’s something you’ve left here- shit just-“ he’s blabbering now, and you’re sprinting now. Each step, in the street you can name each shadow of the afternoon branch, of your childhood, of all you know, is a courage. Almost drunk of the moment, this age of somewhere in between and growing up, you come home just one more time.

“I can see you.” You come home to that familiar figure standing outside his house, that stupid familiar hair still jagged up. Maybe four steps closer, he starts sprinting closer as well. Kuroo runs up to you, arms opening to catch you slowing down to look at his face. His lips are all bitten red, and his hands are visibly shaking.

“You- I was scared-“ he starts again.

“Yeah.” You breathe out, shaking away the tears with messy laughter.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“I-“

And you open your lips, not sure what to say through all these feelings, maybe to echo out what he was trying to say? But ease comes to you, just like growing up. Love is courage, and taking those steps you were too young to even recognize. Because with him it’s okay, no. You don’t even care if it’s okay. It’s just Tetsuro. And it’s just you. You’ve seen this from the beginning, like that Easter egg in the beginning of the film. Just like time passing, too easy and beautiful and regretfully-

He leans closer, the space rapidly closing with his cluttering hands on your shoulders, he looks at your eyes a millisecond before capturing that moment with a swift sigh.

Whenever the movie cuts, whatever the plot may be, you feel his hungry, careful kiss.

Reckless? Yes. But love. And love all along.

So what’s the matter?