The Galaxy Is Endless ( I thought we were, too.)

Part 3

{ A song has been linked above to make things worse for you (: }

That being the only encouragement he needed, Kuroo stood back up, clasping Kenma's hands in his own and pulling him up as well. They were standing so close that he could feel Kuroo's warm breath tickle his skin.

Kuroo didn't release Kenma's hands as he began to speak. "Kozume Kenma. Since I was eight, I think I've always known we were meant for each other."

Kenma couldn't possibly withhold the small smile on his face as Kuroo spoke. He internally chastised himself for being so nervous about this before; he should have known better.

Oblivious to Kenma's internal strife, Kuroo continued. Kenma couldn't help but wonder if Kuroo had practised this confession, or if he was naturally such a sap. "I am so lucky in this life, to have the privilege of being your soulmate. I didn't need a mark to tell me that you were my soulmate. Something in me just knew it. Because after all we've been through together, every experience that we've shared, how was it possibly going to be anybody else?" He paused to give Kenma's hands a light squeeze. "Kenma, I lo-"

That was all Kenma needed to spring into action. He pulled his hands out of Kuroo's grip, and reached up to cover his mouth instead. "Don't say that," he hissed, his mood seemingly doing a complete 180. "You can't say that."

Kuroo raised an eyebrow at this, concern etched into every feature of his face. Kenma tentatively lowered his hands, prompting Kuroo to speak up immediately. "Was I moving too fast?"

Kenma shook his head. No - Kuroo was perfect in every way possible, but Kenma knew he'd never be able to hear him say those words and not feel uneasy. So instead he gripped the collar of his shirt, pulling it aside to expose the words on his collarbone.

Kuroo reached out to brush his hand over the words, causing a shiver to run down Kenma's spine at the feather-light touch. "Do you understand why you can't say it now?"

"Kenma, c'mon, that doesn't mean anything. I'm not going to drop dead just because I say it, yeah?" He shifted his hand up to brush Kenma's hair behind his ear. "Maybe that's like, when I'm 90 and old and wrinkly because we're one of those sappy old couples."

Kenma huffed. "It's not worth the risk."

He didn't have to look up at Kuroo to know he was wearing a worried expression. He felt it instead, as he pressed a hand to Kenma's cheek, and in the tone of his voice as he spoke. "If it really bothers you that much, I won't say it, I swear."

Kenma gave a brisk nod. Kuroo understood him, just as he always had.

"I'll just have to show it in different ways, right?" There was a smile in Kuroo's voice, and Kenma lifted his eyes to meet Kuroo's. "Can I kiss you?"

Kenma's gaze momentarily dropped to Kuroo's lips. He did want Kuroo to kiss him, absolutely. Kenma parted his lips slightly, signifying to Kuroo that it was okay.

Kuroo brushed his thumb along Kenma's cheekbone before bending down, his lips meeting Kenma's in a gentle kiss, that in Kenma's opinion, didn't last nearly long enough.

It was only in that moment Kenma realised that perhaps he'd been in love with Kuroo this whole time, and didn't even notice it. Or perhaps he wouldn't let himself notice, in fear that it wasn't Kuroo his soul was bound to.

But god, was he happy right now.

As Kuroo slowly pulled away, Kenma reached up on his toes to press another kiss onto Kuroo's lips. He could feel Kuroo's mouth curl up into a smile under his own.

This time it was Kenma who pulled away, eyes not leaving Kuroo's, but keenly aware of the newfound blush that was spreading across his cheeks that he knew Kuroo would notice straight away.

But to be fair, he noticed the crimson flush dusting Kuroo's cheeks as well; even if he appeared more composed than Kenma felt.

"So," Kuroo started, still grinning as wide as ever, "Are we dating now?"

Kenma pouted. "I guess."

"You guess?" Kuroo said in mock offence, holding a hand up to his chest. "We have a steamy makeout session, and you don't even know if we're dating? I feel objectified and used, Kenma." Kuroo was able to make it to the end of that sentence with a straight face before bursting into his rambunctious laughter that was music to Kenma at this point.

Kenma shook his head, stepping forward to poke Kuroo in the sides. "It was hardly steamy, not even by a nun's standards."

"You're so mean to me," Kuroo whined between laughs, trying to deflect Kenma's nimble fingers assaulting his sides.

"I'm a terrible boyfriend," Kenma teased again, finally stepping away from Kuroo and instead, sitting on his bed.

Kenma didn't miss the way Kuroo's eyes opened wide, as though Kenma had just handed him the keys to the universe. "Did you just say 'boyfriend'?"

"That's what I am, isn't it?" Kuroo sat on the bed beside Kenma, eyes still blown wide. Kenma didn't think he could handle much more sappiness, instead deciding to slightly nudge the conversation in a different direction. "Anyway, show me your mark. Where is it that I haven't seen it?"

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. "You really want to know?"

"Of course."

"Ah, Kenma, uh-"

"Is it in an embarrassing place?" Kenma asked, voice so steady that he knew Kuroo would debate whether he was teasing or not.

Kuroo shook his head. "It's on my back, do you know what a bitch it's been to hide it from you while we're changing for practice?"

He was right, Kenma couldn't recall seeing Kuroo's bare back in the last year. He had either been directly facing him in conversation, or either changed earlier or later than Kenma had. And somehow, Kenma hadn't noticed.

Kenma stared at Kuroo, signifying he was waiting for him to continue. Kuroo only rolled his eyes. "You're so pushy today."

"Am not." Kenma crossed his arms over his chest.

"Are too."

"Am not— can you just show me the mark?"

Kuroo snorted with laughter. "You literally just proved the 'pushy' point, but okay." With that said, he gripped the hem of his shirt to tug it over his head, and turned his back to Kenma.

The words were crystal clear, in Kenma's very distinctive scrawling writing.

'Please don't leave me.'