"This idea was a total failure!" Tetsurou calls out as he shuts the door behind him to keep the chilly December air out and faces the living room.
He hardly has the time to set his bags down when someone knocks into him full-force and limbs wrap around him. Kenma nearly sends both of them tumbling down, but somehow, Tetsurou manages to regain his balance – years of practice maybe, even if he's a little rusty after such a long time.
He takes a moment to take it all in: the dimness of the hallway without the lights switched on, the house slippers further down the floor where they fell off Kenma's feet, the way Kenma's arms are wrapped around his waist so tightly it makes it a little hard to breathe. Then he leans down, winds his own arms around Kenma just a little bit tighter and nuzzles into Kenma's hair.
He breathes out and Kenma squirms lightly at the feeling of the warm air on his ear, but he stays right where he is. Slowly, Kenma's tight grip on the fabric at Tetsurou's back lightens up.
"It was a stupid idea to start with," Kenma tells him, however many minutes later, and his voice is muffled by Tetsurou's coat. Tetsurou's not sure, or so he tells himself, but Kenma might have – maybe – sounded a little shaky.
Tetsurou huffs a laugh and presses his cheek against the side of Kenma's forehead.
"Then why didn't you tell me? Stop me?" It's not like he would have wanted him to, not really, but Tetsurou entertains the image of Kenma running up to him at the airport seven months ago, yelling "I love you! Don't go!" like they do in the movies.
"I didn't say it wasn't a good idea. And you really wanted to do it." He shakes in Tetsurou's arms, only once, shortly, and as soon as he realises Kenma's laughing, Tetsurou feels a smile slip onto his own face too. "See the world and all." He pauses for a moment. "How was it a failure?"
"Ah! Now you're asking the right questions." Tetsurou presses a kiss to Kenma's hair and leans back a bit to look at his face. "You see, I forgot something."
Kenma looks up at him, and his eyes are soft, a small smile playing on his lips and he looks content. So much so that Tetsurou wants to lean down and steal a kiss.
"What'd you forget?" Kenma asks when Tetsurou doesn't continue.
"That I get horribly, terribly, incredibly homesick when I'm away."
Kenma raises an eyebrow, and Tetsurou can guess why. 'Homesick' is a weird phrase for someone who's been moving around constantly straight out of high school and Tetsurou's never really been particularly attached to a single room, house or apartment he's lived in.
"Homesick?" Kenma repeats after him.
"Well," Tetsurou does lean down this time, lips so close to Kenma's, he can feel Kenma's breath fan out across his face, "you're the closest thing to home after all."
Kenma's smile widens at that.
"You're such a sap," he says and he presses in, slants his mouth over Tetsurou's and Tetsurou can feel the winter cold seep out of his fingers as he buries them in Kenma's hair, fits his fingertips against the shape of Kenma's skull and the heat of his skin.
A little later, after taking their time; brushing lips over cheeks; tasting the familiar aroma of that flowery tea Kenma got hooked on years ago; smelling his own cologne on the sweater Kenma is wearing and realising it's his own, they break apart, but only a little.
Tetsurou rests his forehead on Kenma's shoulder and feels Kenma's mouth glow warm against the skin of his neck.
"I missed you too," Kenma whispers. "I'm glad you're back. Welcome home."
Tetsurou turns his face, brushes the tip of his nose over Kenma's cheek.