#kurokaga

yeah that ain't my last post, I was feeling stupid and insecure but it's like a habit atp. But I'm alr gang ✊

Until this day I still don't know who to ship him with 🏌️🏌️🏌️🏌️

When he rings the doorbell, Kuroko is just about to drown in the clammy pool of his thoughts, his face heating up as his mind generates too many scenarios to count. The gift box of basketball shoes feels heavy in his hand. He wonders if he’ll receive anything romantic for giving it.

It’s the first time he’s felt like this, partially because for a long portion of his life he’s never had friends close enough to have this— to be invited to someone’s house for a sleepover. And also because of the person who’s invited him. Back in middle school when he was a newly-named phantom still starting to savour the glow of the light, there was no one he had felt this strongly for. So he supposes that’s why this is different: the fact that this is with Kagami Taiga.

He wasn’t sure how it happened, nor whether he can claim it’s love just yet. Being able to articulate himself and dilute his mind into sentences has never been a struggle to him, but when it comes to Kagami-kun… ah.

Kuroko supposes he can say it was a slow development: a presence you never realised, yet always right in front of you. And when you noticed it, every moment with that special person had suddenly grown tenfold in meaning and vibrant colour.

It’s a sweet feeling, even though he has yet to name it. That much, he knows.

“Oh, you’re here,” Kagami grins boyishly, opening the door.

“Pardon my intrusion,” Kuroko says as he enters, polite as ever.

“‘S fine,” Kagami replies, “Dude, I invited you here.” He closes the door behind Kuroko. “I’m waiting for the water to start boiling. Pasta okay with you?”

“I’ll make a boiled egg to add to it.”

“It’s pasta,” Kagami stresses, “The hell are we going to do with boiled eggs?”

The rest of the evening moves smoothly: they jibber-jabber about basketball, the latest WNBA game; then Kagami’s gabbering about childhood in America, the salient scent of the sea blowing into the city of LA while people play ball and skateboard near the canopy drawn by the streetside palm trees. Nothing out of the ordinary, just the thing that ties them together like two pieces needed to finish a grand puzzle.

Kuroko could be lulled to sleep like this, the scent of butter added to cream and cheese wafting in the air, Kagami-kun’s voice blending in with the bubbling of water in his gigantic pot, as Kuroko has his elbow on the the dining table and rests his head on his palm, drowning in the warm living room lighting…

“You’re nodding off?” Kagami curls his hand on the back of Kuroko’s head, then ruffles his baby blue hair. “Hey. You haven’t eaten, you’ve got to wake up.”

Kuroko’s eyes open sharply, and Kagami reels back for a moment, shocked by his quick reaction time. The table is set with two plates, Kagami’s slightly larger than Kuroko’s, the dishes in them perfectly plated.

It’s good, as Kagami’s cooking always is. In the end, buried under the pasta, Kuroko tastes the thick yolk of a boiled egg, and he smiles.

When they’re done (Kuroko with his one plate and Kagami with his nine servings), Kuroko offers to wash the dishes. Kagami waves his offer away, suggests he go shower and get ready to sleep first. Kuroko tries to ignore how that makes him feel (a) very much infatuated with his kind heart and the casual intimacy of their relationship as well as (b) how that makes him want to plaster kisses all over his face.

He never thought he could ever think that.

Upon his Light’s insistence, Kuroko washes his hair and changes into his t-shirt and shorts, before Kagami joins him on the sofa.

“Kuroko…” Kagami begins, scratching the back of his neck and averting his gaze evasively.

“Yes?”

“You know, I was pretty excited to have you here.”

“I felt differently,” Kuroko answers truthfully, his voice lilting in a way that Kagami could maybe perceive as anticipatory, “When you told me you were going to have a sleepover, my head began to swim thinking about all the possibilities of what would happen before we slept.”

If Kagami had water in his mouth right now, he’d spill it out like a scene from a comedic cartoon. “Y-you need to stop saying embarrassing stuff like that, man,” he sputters, blushing, “And that’s called being excited. I felt the same.”

“So does Kagami-kun reciprocate my feelings?” Kuroko teases, his voice deadpan.

His face grows as scarlet as his hair. “Wha—”

“I was just joking, Kagami-kun.”

There was no point in saying much else. Kagami-kun was easily embarrassed and fun to mess with in conversations. He could brush the truth off as a simple jest, even if that felt like hauling a mattress through a door too small.

Apparently he wasn’t, not to Kagami at least, because the next thing he knew Kagami-kun had his hands gripped around Kuroko’s shoulders as if he was about to shake them in a frenzy, face still red as ripe tomatoes. “Kuroko, I need you to stop joking.”

“…what?”

“I like you, Kuroko.”

Kuroko licks his lips.

Kagami jerks backwards, his hands still tight and firm around Kuroko. “W-why’d you do that?”

“To be ready,” Kuroko states, matter-of-factly.

This is the happiest Kuroko has ever felt: he’s drunk and intoxicated enough on his first sip of this euphoric feeling that he’s just about ready to prepare for jumping off a ledge, until Kagami’s stuttering brings him back into the realm of sobriety again.

“Ready for what…” Kagami whimpers like a baby tiger, so adorably bashful as his lip twitches. Like a turtle retreating into its shell, Kagami faces the ground and pushes Kuroko away ever so slightly without a pinch of force.

Kuroko blinks up at him. This boy— this wild boy, his Light and ever-glowing source of joy, who makes his skies sparkle with his jumps and makes him actual meals (besides vanilla milkshakes) with his gentle touch— confessed to him. He’s so happy he could die.

It’s too much, and Kuroko's heart can no longer take it, so that is what snatches all of his self-control from him.

This is what Kagami feels next: soft lips on his cheek, and they stayed puckered there as if Kuroko was trying to imprint himself on his body despite the fact he already did in Kagami’s spirit; then there was the soothing sensation of Kuroko’s mild breaths blowing against his cheek. He could stay here forever. The basketball gods (if they existed) sent him a good person, he thinks. Kagami figures, however, that ‘basketball gods’ would probably be legends like LeBron James and Steph Curry, but he doesn’t really give a damn about whether they’d care about them right now because he’s getting a kiss on the cheek from Kuroko.

Kuroko retracts, Kagami’s blush having been subdued. “Happy early birthday, Kagami-kun.” He grins his largest one.

Then Kagami flushes again.

He swears to himself that they’ll do it on the lips when it’s Kuroko’s birthday.

“Now, this is Kagami-kun’s actual birthday gift,” Kuroko says afterwards.

“Woah… hey, this has to be pretty expensive. How’d you get it so… wow… thanks, Kuroko!”

“You’re welcome. I spent a month living off of boiled eggs.”

“Wh-hey!” Kagami frowns, “Are you for real?”

“No one can defeat me when it comes to boiled eggs and saving money.”

Kagami grabs Kuroko’s cheeks, smushing them together. “I need you to stop saying ridiculous stuff with a straight face.”

Every cloud has a silver lining like every light has a their shadow.

🩵❤️ I've been pouring my heart on this one. I had a blast doing this piece. It felt like coming back home after a while, you know? No rushing the process, just me enjoying every bit. 🩵❤️

Popsicle date

Blue and Red popsicles

https://archiveofourown.org/works/65078908

Kagami writes a love letter to Kuroko after asking him to be his boyfriend (little flashback of that in the middle).

kuroko is SO QUICK to throw punches, and kagami is an absolute hothead