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graffiti and the writing on the wall

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“Masterpiece,” Kuroo crossed his arms and nodded proudly.

Bokuto took a step back, mirroring Kuroo´s posture. “You are so right. This was worth it.”

The street was empty, silent in the early morning. They worked on their new graffiti, the castle as the result of their collective imagination. It had no sense, but it bore colors of the rainbow and depth of their minds. It was a way to celebrate their true selves.

“It´s getting late, or better yet, it´s getting early. Let´s go.” Kuroo reached for his leather jacket, giving Bokuto his hoodie. “Kou?”

Bokuto nudged him with an elbow. Kuroo followed his gaze. There they were, the two most handsome men he has ever seen.

“Do you see him?” Bokuto gasped.

“Yes, I do.”

“Such ethereal presence. And those dark eyes… dark hair…”

Kuroo frowned. “Nope. I´m looking at the other one.” Kuroo was entranced by the blond-haired man covered in a long black coat, white skirt peeking out of it. “Who are they?” Angels walking the Earth.

“I think they came from there.” Bokuto pointed to the building not too far. The strip club.

“Would it be weird to ask him out right now?” Kuroo inhaled as they strode closer, the blond man hiding his neck with a scarf but leaving the makeup on. He wore it proud and confident. Kuroo blinked, and they were gone, lost behind the corner of the soon to be a busy street.

  


 

 

“Are you sure this will work?” Kuroo stared at another piece they drew with Bokuto the night before, hoping that men from before will see it.

“Yes!” Bokuto assured him. “You even drew him from behind, so his face is out of sight. Honey, you are so considerate.”

Kuroo corrected his jacket, his safe space, the last gift from his mom. “I don´t want to scare him away. And I should hide.” Kuroo mumbled.

“Eh?”

“What if they won´t walk by?”

“I stalked them enough to know this won´t happen.”

“But-“

Bokuto grabbed Kuroo´s cheeks. “Pull it together.”

“When did we switch places?”

“When you began panicking. We can´t both be panicking, that would be an even bigger disaster than we already are!”

Kuroo pouted. “Yeah. Okay.”

Bokuto screeched. “They are coming.”

Kuroo put palms in his pockets, fists tight. Will he notice? Will he be scared? Kuroo forgot how to breathe. The oxygen was missing. Why was he so worried?

“I need to hide,” Kuroo repeated to himself and searched for Bokuto. “Kou?”

Silence. No Bokuto, no footsteps.

Kuroo shifted, the blonde man stood in front of the building, an apparition of Kuroo´s desire, eyes wide, lips pressed together. “Oh no,” Kuroo frowned. Go away, panic.

Kuroo felt his gaze lingering on him, avoiding Kuroo´s eyes. “This was bad-“ The young man smiled and left with his friend.

“I think it worked,” Bokuto informed his buddy, returning from who knows where.

“I think so too.”

 


 

 

“Date?” Kuroo sprayed by the hips of the man´s graffiti portrait after two days passed since their latest “meeting.”

„I will eat a sock if that'll work.“ Kuroo crossed his arms adamantly, noticeably self-assured.

Bokuto slapped his ass. “Hon´, I saw his expression the last time they walked by. You will eat that sock.”

“Let´s hope so,” Kuroo muttered. “What?”

“Here, put it on,” Bokuto dressed his friend in a leather jacket. “Let him see you in all your glory!”

Sparkling stars caught Kuroo´s attention. He stared at the dark ceiling of the Earth, hollering how he got into this mess in the first place.

Bokuto growled. “Incoming!” He pushed on Kuroo´s shoulders down, forcing him to sit right in front of the graffiti drawing.

Kuroo let it flow. He hugged his knees, rested his chin on top and waited. The young blond man walked accompanied by his friend as always, both clearly searching for something new on the building.

Huge cat-like eyes filled with golden honey struck right through the painting, then through jittery Kuroo.

“We don’t know each other,” Kuroo whispered to himself. “We don´t.” He raised his eyes to meet the man in a lengthy white dress covered with a red coat. Was it on purpose? To get Kuroo´s attention? Kuroo ran fingers through the mess of his hair he couldn´t tame and smiled, shy as hell.

The beauty of the universe replied mirroring him. “My name is Kenma,” said the blond, one finger playing with a free strand of hair. “Yes.” Kenma grinned and left. Kuroo noticed the other man, he pointed at the wall opposite Kuroo.

Bokuto followed the way, crouched examining the wall and gasped: “Tetsu! Are the two or three of you mind readers?”

“Why?” Kuroo got up.

Bokuto put the finger on the small writing on the wall. “It´s a phone number.”

 


 

 

“You know you have to introduce us, right? Me and the dark-haired mystery man. Right? Right? Right?” Bokuto jumped in front of Kuroo like a maniac.

“Of course. It´s only our third date, but I think I can do it.”

“Do you think we can go see them perform?” Bokuto held the spray unable to focus, annoying Kuroo and his new work of art.

Kuroo sighed and shrugged. “Do you truly want to know?”

Bokuto froze, unusually quiet. “How was it? How is he?”

Kuroo chuckled. “He is the best.”

They stared quietly, comfortably in satisfaction. “Good.”

 


 

 

“Man, I'm so excited!!! And Kenma has no freaking idea! And Keiji agrees this is an excellent idea! You love each other so much!” Bokuto burst with emotions Kuroo didn´t try to contain within him.

“How many times can you use the word idea?”

“Many!”

Kuroo chuckled. “It has to be this way. This last year was a blessing and if I want to do this, what´s better than making another graffiti?”

“How it all began,” Bokuto sighed dreamily.

“Yes,” Kuroo nodded and started working with help from his best friend.

Drawing was finished in a couple of hours. The waiting for Kenma and Akaashi to walk right by was too lingering, even though it took mere fifteen minutes.

They arrived, none of the men surprised by this meeting.

The only surprise was the occasion.

Kenma gazed at the graffiti depicting a couple dressed in two different styles merged in one. Leather jacket on a white wedding dress.

It wasn´t lone Kenma, it wasn´t solitary Kuroo.

It was Kenma and Kuroo, the sole significant thing they both craved for.

Kenma´s gaze followed their bright faces, unafraid to show who they justly were. His mouth opened wide, eyes unblinking.

“Will you marry me?” said the wall in Kuroo´s handwriting.

Kenma laughed and pointed to the same place as Akaashi did a year before, to show his phone number.

Kuroo frowned and moved closer with a languid and painfully long walk. “Yes,” he read out loud. “Yes… Yes? When did you…”

“About a month after meeting you,” Kenma admitted, laughing without hiding his face behind the so long hair of his. Even Bokuto and Akaashi stood there in a shock.

“Yes,” Kuroo repeated.

“Yes.” Kenma closed the distance, grabbed the jacket and dragged Kuroo down to kiss him. “Yes.”