Work Text:
Title: How Competition Works
Author: Triste
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Pairing: Generation of Miracles/Kuroko
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete
Disclaimer: Not mine
~~
Although it’s Aomine who kicks off the argument, the others are quick to join in.
“So,” he begins, arms crossed over his chest in challenge, “because I’m the person who’s most compatible with Tetsu, it makes sense that I should be the one to date him.”
“Your compatibility only exists on the court,” Kise points out. “When you’re away from it, the two of you can’t agree on anything.”
Right eyebrow twitching, unable to deny the accusation, Aomine responds with an even stronger move, and it hits Kise where it hurts most. “Yeah, well, you didn’t even like him at first.”
Kise winces, and Aomine strikes again before he can recover from the damage.
“And anyway, if it hadn’t been for me, Tetsu wouldn’t have made it to first string, and if he hadn’t done that, then you never would have met the guy.”
Defeated, at least temporarily, Kise frantically tries to think of a way to worm his way back into the bickering, but Akashi beats him to it, exuding an aura of absolute confidence, and utterly assured of his own victory.
“Unlike you two, I am the one who first discovered Tetsuya’s true potential. I noticed it the moment I set eyes on him, but more importantly, I am the captain, and the person on this team with the most authority, so it’s only natural that Tetsuya should belong to me.”
“That’s not fair, Aka-chin.” Taking a bite out of his chocolate bar, Murasakibara continues, words muffled through the confectionery, “Besides, Kuro-chin told me himself that he likes me as a person, and he wouldn’t have said that if he didn’t want to go out with me.”
Aomine turns on Murasakibara with frown. “He didn’t mean like in *that* kind of way, he was being nice. And anyway, he doesn’t approve of your attitude to basketball.”
“If it’s for Kuro-chin, I can change.”
“No you can’t! And even if you could, it’d never work out between you and Tetsu. The size difference is too...” Aomine trails off, uncomfortable.
Smirking, Murasakibara says, “Hmm? What were you thinking about just now, Mine-chin?”
“Enough,” Midorima cuts in before the conversation can drag itself down even further than it has done already. “Why am I even being included here? This whole situation is a complete farce.”
“You’re a rival too, Midorimacchi.” Competitive spirit revived, Kise continues to provoke his opponent. “But if you’d rather skulk off with your tail between your legs, then be my guest.”
Midorima’s reaction is tragic in its predictability, and he points a white taped index finger in Kise’s direction, unaware that he’s been manipulated. “You’re the one who’s destined for defeat. With fate on my side, there’s no way I will lose.”
Kise is about to offer a retort when Akashi claps his hands once to command their attention, and they’ve learned from previous experience to stop what they’re doing and shut their mouths, turning their gazes towards him simultaneously like he’s a teacher exerting control over his unruly students.
“In order to put an end to this debate, I propose a contest in which the five of us get precisely one day each to try and win Tetsuya’s heart. Ryouta will have Monday to prove his worth, Shintarou can take his turn on Tuesday, Daiki will go after him on Wednesday, Atsushi will follow on Thursday and then my opportunity will present itself on Friday. That gives Tetsuya all weekend to make his decision, therefore it should leave no hard feelings towards whoever is fortunate enough to be chosen by him. Any objections?”
There’s an agreeable silence.
“Very well. The only rules are: no kissing and no sex. Apart from that, anything else goes.” Akashi smiles. “Good luck, everyone, and may the best man win.”
~~
Kise spends all night trying to think of what would be the most suitable date, and while he misses out on sleep in the process, he still wakes up feeling cheerful and optimistic.
His plan, or at least the first part of it, is to invite Kuroko out swimming, because according to the weather forecast, it’s going to be a scorcher of a day, and there’s no better way to spend it than ogling Kuroko (while also, Kise reminds himself, taking advantage to show off his own body in an effort to appeal to him). Moreover, he has an ace up his sleeve when Kuroko expresses his reluctance over the phone.
“I’m not so sure, Kise-kun. Public outdoor pools are always so crowded during the summer holidays.”
“Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, Kurokocchi.” Smiling happily to himself, Kise adds, “I managed to pull a few strings at my agency and got us a private pool for the morning. How about it?”
“I suppose that wouldn’t be too bad.”
Kuroko doesn’t sound thrilled, but then again he’s never been an overly expressive person. He hasn’t turned Kise down flat out, and he hasn’t suggested going somewhere else instead, so Kise considers it a success when they arrange to meet up in an hour’s time.
The pool is located on the rooftop of a penthouse suite that’s currently being rented by one of Kise’s co-workers through his agency, and it’s like a little piece of heaven inhabited by just him and Kuroko who seems mildly impressed in spite of the bland look on his face.
“Nice place, huh?” Kise prompts.
“It could have been worse.”
It obviously won’t be easy to get Kuroko to pick him, but Kise, competitive to the core, refuses to give in without a fight.
While he does find it a tiny bit disheartening when Kuroko doesn’t offer him so much as a second glance when they change into their swim trunks, there are other options for Kise to use.
“Here, Kurokocchi.” Presenting a bottle of suntan lotion, Kise shows how considerate he can be. “I know how easily you burn.”
“Thank you very much.” Kuroko takes the bottle and applies it to his arms, face and front, and Kise has to concentrate hard on keeping still instead of squirming in anticipation.
“Want me to do your back?” he offers once Kuroko has finished.
Suspicious, Kuroko says, “You’d better not have any ulterior motives.”
“Of course!”
It’s a lie, and they both know it, but Kuroko lies down on his sun lounger anyway, providing Kise with the perfect opportunity to touch him.
He starts at Kuroko’s shoulders, rubbing the lotion into his pale skin, and slowly (but making sure not to take too long, although there’s nothing he’d like more than to let his hands linger) working his way down until he’s only millimetres away from the waistband of Kuroko’s shorts. For a second, the temptation of his ass is almost too much to resist, but Kise somehow succeeds in avoiding doing anything that would make Kuroko use violence and accuse him of sexual harassment.
“Okay, all done.”
Kuroko sits up again, and holds a palm out expectantly for Kise to pass him the bottle. “Shall I do your back too?” he asks.
Staring in surprise, Kise says, “Um,” because that’s about all he can manage while he’s busy wondering whether he should accept or refuse.
He definitely wants to say yes, because that would be the best thing ever, but he also wants to say no, because he’s aware that the sensation of Kuroko’s hands on his bare skin would lead to an instant hard-on, which would earn him a punch to the stomach for sure, and it’s the most agonising decision he’s ever had to make.
Unfortunately, it’s also one that he spends far too long mulling over, and it leads to Kuroko becoming vaguely annoyed by his inability to reach an answer.
“Would you like me to do this or not, Kise-kun?”
For better or worse, Kise says the first thing to pop into his head.
“Yes.” And then, because Kuroko can be scary when he’s angry, he adds, “Please.”
Kuroko’s hands on his back feel amazing, and Kise has to bite his lip to silence the moans that threaten to escape, but he still can’t help thinking how good they would feel elsewhere on his body, which leads to him blurting out something hideously humiliating once Kuroko is done.
“Would you mind touching my nipples as well while you’re at it? Just for like, a second.”
Unimpressed, Kuroko says, voice firm, “I respectfully decline,” and Kise feels as if he’s dying a little inside.
He’s probably convinced Kuroko that he’s a creepy pervert.
The moment of awkwardness eventually passes, but it leaves Kise with a lot to make up for if he wants to end the day with some good memories.
Thankfully, the place he takes Kuroko to next ought to help. Kise has purposely chosen to go where he knows he won’t get mobbed by fan girls (and that would annoy Kuroko even more than being asked to put his hands on someone else’s erogenous zone), but more importantly, it’s a place that’s quiet, dimly lit and provides a romantic atmosphere.
“An aquarium?” Kuroko says, raising his eyebrows.
“That’s right! I thought you might enjoy it.”
And Kuroko, to Kise’s relief, does, an expression of mild wonder on his face as they wander from one tank to another, but while he’s starting at the fish, Kise is staring at Kuroko, although he does it in a way that’s not overly obvious
Suddenly, Kuroko pauses in front of an octopus. “It resembles you, Kise-kun,” he comments.
“Eh?” Kise can’t help being wounded by the unfair comparison. “How so?”
“It has too many limbs and is very clingy.”
“You’re cruel.” Pretending to shed a tear, Kise doesn’t immediately notice Kuroko’s smile, but when he sees it, it makes his heart skip a beat.
“However,” Kuroko continues, smile softening just a fraction, “I don’t dislike that.”
The wording may have been careful and somewhat ambiguous, but Kise interprets it as a confession of love all the same, and he holds his arms out joyfully, with the intention of throwing them around Kuroko in a dramatic embrace.
“Kurokocchi~”
Ducking under one outstretched arm nimbly, Kuroko avoids Kise’s attempted hug, pointing to his left. “Look, over there you can feed the penguins.”
Sulking at his loss to a group of aquatic birds, Kise follows in reluctance, but it’s difficult to stay resentful when he sees Kuroko having so much fun. His mood improves further when they go to watch the dolphin show, and as long as Kuroko is happy, Kise is too.
He can’t even bring himself to get offended when Kuroko picks out an octopus key chain in the gift shop, especially when he calls it cute. In a roundabout way, it’s as if he’s calling Kise cute, too, or so he tells himself, and it earns him another smile from Kuroko when he offers to buy it for him.
“Thank you, Kise-kun,” he says, putting the key chain away safely in his pocket.
“No problem. I’m glad you like it.”
Things get better still when Kuroko raises an elbow, not to jab Kise in the ribs with it, but for him to hook his arm through. “As a token of my appreciation, I’ll permit you to escort me to the train station.”
Resisting the urge to grin idiotically, Kise forces himself to be refined and gentlemanly instead, and it actually works, because Kuroko doesn’t laugh at him even once.
~~
Midorima always prides himself on being punctual, and that’s why he shows up forty minutes early for his date with Kuroko, in case anything happens that might delay his journey, such as his train breaking down, for example, because he dislikes unpredictability. He prefers it when everything goes according to plan, and it bothers him whenever he’s forced to deviate, not that he’s unable to do so, but because it makes him uncomfortable.
The disadvantage to being well ahead of the time they’ve arranged to meet, however, is that it leaves Midorima to simply stand there and wait for Kuroko to arrive. The seconds seem to drag by, and Midorima has to stop himself from checking his watch every ten seconds.
It’s not because he’s nervous, because that would be absurd, so he crosses his arms over his chest, but then he remembers that such body language indicates defensiveness and a feeling of being closed-off (after reading about it extensively on the internet, in case it might come in useful). It isn’t much better when he places his hands on his hips, which apparently means that he’s displaying signs of aggressiveness, so he settles for looking casual by keeping them by his sides.
Checking his reflection in a nearby shop window, Midorima nods in satisfaction. His hair has been combed to perfection, his shirt is freshly washed and crease free and the shoes he’s wearing are brand new. He’s gone to a lot of effort to present himself appropriately, so he can’t help frowning in disapproval when Kuroko appears right on time.
His sneakers are scuffed and well worn, and although his jeans and hoodie are fine, they make him appear underdressed compared to Midorima, and then there’s his bed head, which has been mostly tamed, but Midorima’s attention is immediately drawn to the tufts of hair that stick out at odd angles.
“Midorima-kun, is something wrong?” Kuroko asks, noticing his irritation.
“No,” Midorima lies, because he’s fairly sure it would be a bad idea to attack his date with a brush.
“Have you been waiting long?”
“Actually, I just got here.”
Kuroko scrutinises him for a moment, and Midorima wills himself not to start sweating. “I see,” he says, and Midorima breathes a sigh of relief. “Well, then. Shall we set off?”
“Yes,” Midorima agrees, “we shall.”
There’s a place he needs to visit before they go anywhere else, and Kuroko seems amenable enough when he finds out that their first aim of the day is to acquire Midorima’s lucky item.
“To be honest, I’m a little curious as to where you buy them from,” Kuroko admits. “And what do you do with all the ones you no longer need?”
“I keep them safe, naturally. You never know when such things will come in useful again.” Guiding Kuroko to the closest department store, Midorima heads in the direction of a boutique, and he only stops when he finds what he’s searching for. “Ah, here it is. Today’s lucky item for Cancer.”
“It’s perfume,” Kuroko observes.
“I know.” Midorima holds out his cell phone for Kuroko to see the picture on Oha-Asa’s website. “Vanilla Dream, I believe they call it. Moreover, the lucky item for Aquarius is a crochet hook. Fortunately, there’s an arts and crafts store on the second floor, so obtaining one shouldn’t be a problem.”
Kuroko, when he follows Midorima to the checkout, is fascinated, and it pleases Midorima who assumes he’s shown him the light with regards to the wonders of fortune telling, but Kuroko is more concerned with the perfume than his horoscope.
“I wonder what it smells like.”
“Does it matter?” Midorima hides his disappointed by adjusting his glasses. “I just have to carry it around with me, and then my good luck is guaranteed.”
“But it’s such a waste. Do you mind if I...?”
Before Midorima can say anything, or even find out what Kuroko is asking for, he’s hit with a burst of sweet scent from the bottle. Coughing in indignation, he’s about to question Kuroko’s motives when, all of a sudden, Kuroko goes from being at an acceptable distance to standing right in front of him.
“Ah,” he says, his nose nudging the hollow of Midorima’s throat. “It smells nice.”
Face bright red, Midorima staggers backwards, almost falling over in the process. “What on earth are you *doing*?”
Kuroko stares up at him innocently. “Sniffing you.” And then he throws Midorima even further off guard by adding, “Wait, wasn’t there an anime about this, with people turning into magical girls after spraying themselves with perfume?” He watches Midorima like he’s expecting something to happen (a transformation sequence, probably), and then his stomach growls. “It’s making me feel hungry.”
“That’s fine,” Midorima replies, thankful for the opportunity to change the subject. “What would you like?”
Kuroko’s eyes light up. “A vanilla shake.”
It’s Midorima’s treat, of course, as is the crochet hook, which Kuroko accepts graciously (albeit with a dubious expression).
Their second aim of the day, however, is the planetarium, and it seems to impress Kuroko considerably more than his lucky item.
“There’s a special presentation today called Medicine Through Time,” Midorima says, and he can’t help brightening just a little, because it’s something he’s been looking forward to ever since he first heard about it, “which explains how people of the past thought certain medical conditions were influenced by the stars.”
“Like how it was once believed that the moon could induce insanity?”
“Precisely. I’m glad to hear you’re not entirely ignorant of this particular subject.”
Rather than being offended (and Midorima meant it as a compliment), Kuroko smiles. “The combination of astronomy and science seems like something that would appeal to you, Midorima-kun.”
It then occurs to Midorima that he might be the only one who it appeals to, and since this day is supposed to be for Kuroko, he clears his throat. “But if it isn’t relevant to your interests, I shall be glad to accompany you to an alternative location of your choice.”
Kuroko shakes his head. “I’m happy to stay here,” he says, smile softening, “and I’m happy to be with you.”
It’s a wonder steam doesn’t billow out from Midorima’s ears, so he grabs Kuroko’s wrist and leads him down the hallway to the auditorium where the presentation is due to take place, too embarrassed to respond verbally.
There are plenty of other things for them to do afterwards, from peering through telescopes to participating in question and answer sessions, and they even go to watch a video about the solar system. They lay back on reclining seats, side by side, as they gaze up at the ceiling, and it makes Midorima’s heart beat faster when Kuroko leans over to whisper, “It’s sort of romantic, don’t you think?” into his ear.
Kuroko’s hand, where it rests next to Midorima’s on the armrest between them, is mere millimetres away, and he ceases listening to the narration, far too conscious of their proximity.
It’s dark. Nobody else can see them. It’s the perfect opportunity for them to hold hands while (literally) staring into space.
It takes a while, however, for Midorima to pluck up the courage. He begins by twitching his fingers, preparing to move them over to his left, but then he loses his nerve, so it’s another few minutes before he tries again, but that attempt fails too.
Finally, when he manages to go through with it by placing his trembling hand atop Kuroko’s, he risks a glance to see how Kuroko is reacting, and his heart sinks to find Kuroko fast asleep.
Still, it doesn’t mean that he has to remove his hand, although he wonders briefly if it counts as being non-consensual, but since he isn’t doing anything forward or unwanted, like kissing Kuroko on the cheek, he figures it probably won’t get earn him a criminal record.
Kuroko doesn’t wake up after the video, not even when Midorima shakes him gently, so he lifts him out of his seat and gives him a piggyback ride to the train station. They’re almost there when he comes to, and he sounds groggy when he apologises for the trouble he’s caused.
“It’s nothing,” Midorima says gruffly, blushing for what must be the fiftieth time when Kuroko’s arms tighten around his neck. “Just stay there. I’ll carry you the rest of the way.”
~~
The whole point of a date is to take the person you’re trying to impress somewhere they wouldn’t usually go, and it’s one that Aomine doesn’t have to strain too hard to think about. He prides himself on knowing Kuroko better than anyone else, and while he’s aware that his basketball partner would prefer to visit places like the library or a museum (in other words, somewhere quiet and educational), it’s good for people to do things outside their comfort zones, and that’s why he takes Kuroko to the arcade. It’s bright, noisy and buzzing with activity. Aomine loves it.
Kuroko, however, doesn’t seem convinced, at least until Aomine challenges him to a racing game, and then he gets all fired up, just as Aomine predicts.
“In that case,” Kuroko says, a spark of competitiveness in his eyes, “we should also have a penalty for whoever loses.”
It’s a great idea, and Aomine wholeheartedly supports it. “Now you’re talking. How about one where the winner gets to grope the loser?”
“I was thinking more along the lines of the loser buying the winner their lunch.”
It’s not what Aomine would prefer, but he guesses it’ll do.
But because Kuroko is a sore loser, he forces Aomine into another game after his loss, and then one more so that it’s a two out of three tournament. Because he’s also obstinate, he insists on making it as difficult for Aomine to get a free meal as possible, so they move on to a fighting game (which Aomine wins) and then a wrestling game (which, to his shock, he loses).
In an attempt to lift Kuroko’s sour mood, Aomine nudges him in the direction of the crane game. It’s not something he’d usually play, seeing as it mainly tends to attract girls and little kids, but he’s noticed Kuroko eyeing the plush toys inside.
“Which one do you want?” he asks, checking his wallet for change, and Kuroko peers through the glass contemplatively.
“I’d like that, please.” He points at a stuffed crayfish, which strikes Aomine as an odd choice, but then again, Kuroko has always had questionable taste.
“Okay, leave it to me.”
Aomine has confidence in his gaming skills, and he expects to grab the plush on his first go, so it’s a bit annoying when he misses it. He gets it on his second try, grinning when he manages to pick it up, and then scowling when he drops it.
“So close,” Kuroko remarks.
“I’ll get it this time,” Aomine promises, pushing another coin into the slot, but he doesn’t, and it’s kind of starting to piss him off, and because he hates to lost even more than Kuroko, he shoves in a third coin, then a fourth, and then a fifth.
Patting him on the arm in consolation, Kuroko says, “Maybe we should try a different game.”
“No way.” Aomine hunches his shoulders, cracking his knuckles to show that he’s getting serious. “I’m not leaving until I beat this stupid thing.”
The more he tries, the more irritated he gets, and the more he fails, the more money he ends up spending. He has to go to the change counter to exchange his notes, refusing to listen to Kuroko when he tells him to calm down, too determined to keep going, because he’d rather be damned than give in and walk away.
At long last, Aomine succeeds, and he feels like he’s spent the past forty minutes shedding blood, sweat and tears for a stuffed toy, but it’s worth it when he turns to Kuroko, a triumphant expression on his face.
“Here you go, Tetsu. I finally got it.”
Kuroko takes the crayfish, but he’s more concerned than grateful. “Aomine-kun, how much money do you have left?”
Checking his wallet, Aomine’s stomach sinks when he realises he has a total of three hundred yen. “Crap.” Smacking his palm against his forehead, he wonders why the hell he’s just spent nearly everything he has. “God damn.”
“Apparently,” Kuroko says, kind enough not to laugh, “operating a crane game is like opening a savings account.”
“You could have said so sooner,” Aomine groans.
“I did. You ignored me.”
The truth hurts, and it causes Aomine to despair at his hotheaded nature.
“Still,” Kuroko continues, smiling, “I really like that you worked so hard and did your best for my sake. It was very touching.”
As always, Kuroko’s ability to say something mushy with a completely straight face leaves Aomine embarrassed, and that makes Kuroko’s smile widen, like Aomine has made him really happy. He doesn’t quite understand it, but Kuroko is enjoying himself, so it’s fine.
“Um.” Aomine scratches the side of his neck, hoping he doesn’t look too flustered, but it’s difficult when Kuroko is staring at him with those eyes, full of warmth and affection. “Feel like hanging out at Maji Burger? I could probably just about cover the cost of a vanilla shake and some fries.”
Kuroko raises an eyebrow. “I thought I was buying you lunch?”
“No worries. It’s my treat. Besides, I’m not that hungry.” As if to prove he’s lying, Aomine’s stomach growls loudly. “Uh...”
Amused, Kuroko says, “It’s all right. I won’t let you starve.”
And he doesn’t, although Aomine displays an uncharacteristic amount of self restraint for once by only placing a small order when they reach Kuroko’s favourite fast food restaurant, because he doesn’t want to spoil it by being a glutton right after he’s somehow managed to make a good impression.
They sit together in comfortable silence over their meal, and again it’s not something Aomine would usually do around Kuroko. He tends to eat and talk with his mouth full, but he doesn’t do that this time, and he even wipes his lips afterwards with a napkin and not the back of his hand.
If Kuroko notices the sudden improvement in his table manners, however, he fails to comment on it.
Slightly disappointed, Aomine asks, “How did your dates with Kise and Midorima go?”
“They were okay.” Kuroko takes a sip of his shake, but he doesn’t elaborate any further.
Aomine has no idea whether “okay” in Kuroko’s book counts as good or bad, but since he isn’t complaining, it can only be assumed that they both went well. Aomine wants to find out which date he’s enjoyed the best, but he knows Kuroko wouldn’t tell him anyway even if Akashi hadn’t already forbidden him from prying too much.
It makes Aomine wonder exactly how Kuroko will choose between them at the end of the week. Has he been giving them marks out of ten? Does he write up notes when he gets home every evening? Or will he simply pull a name out of a hat at random?
In any case, there’s no use letting it eat at him, so Aomine suggests they got to the park for a walk, which is the only place he can think of to take Kuroko that won’t cost him money. Kuroko seems to like it, which is all that matters.
“We should have brought a picnic,” he says.
“Yeah,” Aomine agrees. “It’s the right kind of weather for eating outdoors.”
“You never know,” Kuroko tells him. “It’s something we might be able to do next time.”
If there is a next time, Aomine thinks, but that depends on how lucky he is, and what decision Kuroko makes.
He apparently possesses some good fortune, because Kuroko doesn’t leave immediately when the time comes for them to say goodbye, and he seems just the tiniest bit awkward. “Do you remember earlier, when we were talking about a penalty game at the arcade?”
Aomine nods. “I remember.”
“Well,” says Kuroko, “I’ll let you touch one part of my body as a thank you for everything you’ve done for me today. But only one,” he adds, stern. “Nothing more.”
Aomine’s perverted mind immediately finds itself torn between selecting Kuroko’s ass or crotch, but he forgets about seizing the opportunity to feel him up, and instead steps forward to hug him.
“You’re cheating.” But Kuroko isn’t pushing Aomine away. “I said one part. That counts as my whole body.”
“Idiot,” Aomine says, resting his chin on the top of Kuroko’s head. “Don’t sweat the little details.”
~~
There’s a date Murasakibara has had in his diary for weeks now, and although he’s never been particularly religious, it’s like a sign from the gods when he manages to combine what he’s been looking forward to and his day out with Kuroko in one.
Kuroko’s expression, when Murasakibara informs him where they’re going first, is knowing.
“A sweets festival? I would expect no less from you, Murasakibara-kun.”
But there’s a reason Murasakibara has brought him here, and he needs to queue up for it before he misses his chance.
“Would you mind waiting for me, Kuro-chin? I might be gone a while, but I’ll try to be as quick as possible.”
He doesn’t want to leave Kuroko, especially all on his own, but this is more important. It also takes him two whole hours, and by the time he finally returns, Kuroko’s expression is more than a little annoyed.
“Honestly,” he says, “I thought you’d abandoned me, so I was about to go home.”
“Sorry, sorry. The line was longer than I expected.” Murasakibara holds out the box he’s been carrying with a grin, and Kuroko opens it up. “It’s a special limited edition cake that you can’t get anywhere else. People have travelled down from Hokkaido just to taste it, and I was lucky enough to get my hands on one before they sold out.”
Kuroko doesn’t seem to know whether to be impressed or disturbed by how far some of Japan’s population are prepared to go for sweet things, so he comments on the cake instead. “It certainly looks tasty.”
“I know, right?” Murasakibara is close to drooling at the mere sight, and although he regrets that he couldn’t buy more (the saleswomen would only allow one per person), he hasn’t purchased the cake for himself. “That’s why I want you to have it.”
Blinking, Kuroko says, surprised, “You bought this for me?”
Murasakibara nods, happy that Kuroko likes his gift, but sad that he won’t be getting any cake of his own. “Yeah. It’s all yours, Kuro-chin.”
Accepting the box, Kuroko offers Murasakibara a small smile in return. “I think,” he says, sounding a tiny bit touched that Murasakibara is willing to make such a large sacrifice for his sake, “it would taste better if we shared it.”
Scooping him into a hug (while being careful not to harm the cake), Murasakibara has to bend at the knees to nuzzle their cheeks together. “Kuro-chin, you’re too kind!”
He was only able to bring a single plastic spoon back with his purchase, but they end up sharing that as well, and Kuroko even indulges Murasakibara by feeding him when he asks.
Already their date has been a huge success, and not just because of the cake. Murasakibara is optimistic it will only get better, which is why he appeals to Kuroko’s soft spot for animals by taking him to the zoo.
“How nostalgic,” Kuroko says, as Murasakibara buys their tickets. “I haven’t been to a place like this since I was in grade school.”
There are quite a few families with young children around, but there are also lots of couples. They’re all holding hands, Murasakibara notes, and the more playful ones are flirting with each other, laughing and kissing and exchanging affectionate caresses.
He knows he’s not allowed to kiss Kuroko, and he wouldn’t defy orders from Akashi anyway, but there’s nothing to prevent him from holding hands with Kuroko, so he reaches down and curls their fingers together.
Kuroko looks up, curious. “Murasakibara-kun?”
“It’s pretty busy today.” Murasakibara gives Kuroko’s hand a squeeze. “If we stay like this, we won’t get separated.”
“Even if we do,” Kuroko points out wryly, “it wouldn’t be too difficult for me to find you.”
“It’d be a lot harder for me if I lost you,” Murasakibara says, pouting, and Kuroko’s eyes crinkle at the corners in amusement.
“I suppose you have a point.”
They start off in the reptile house, and while Murasakibara isn’t terribly fond of snakes and lizards, he envies them somewhat for being able to sleep most of the day away in nice warm tanks. Kuroko reads the descriptions on the cards explaining where each reptile comes from with interest, pausing every once in a while to stop Murasakibara from prodding at the glass in the hope of making the occupants inside them move.
It’s the other creatures Murasakibara finds more appealing, especially the giraffes, and when Kuroko asks why he’s staring at them so intently, he seems amused when Murasakibara explains that it’s as if they’re tempting him to throw rings around their necks like he would on a hoopla stall.
The tapir, however, are even better, and Murasakibara watches them shuffle around intently.
“Don’t you think the black and white ones look kind of like a backwards onigiri?”
Kuroko tilts his head. “Now that you mention it...”
Murasakibara’s mouth waters. “I wonder if tapir are edible.”
“I really wouldn’t know,” Kuroko says firmly, steering him away, “but please stop fantasising about eating the animals.”
Vaguely disappointed, Murasakibara decides to cheer himself up by taking Kuroko to the petting corner. There are no couples here, only kids, but he hardly notices them, too absorbed by the way Kuroko’s eyes light up subtly in anticipation. Visitors are allowed to feed the animals inside, and Murasakibara hangs back to watch as Kuroko is immediately surrounded by a group of hungry lambs that nudge him with their tiny noses for food.
“They’re very adorable,” he says, patting each one on the head in turn.
Murasakibara thinks that Kuroko is even cuter, but he stays quiet, aware of how much Kuroko would dislike it if he dared to voice the words out loud.
After feeding the lambs, Kuroko moves onto the meerkats.
“They’re so small,” he states, as they scamper around his ankles.
Just like you, Kuro-chin, Murasakibara wants to say, but again he keeps his mouth shut.
Some of the animals, like the guinea pigs and the rabbits, are there to be handled, and Murasakibara takes photo after photo with the camera on his cell phone of Kuroko cuddling them, and the combined cuteness is almost too much for him to handle.
Afterwards, as they walk to the station together (still hand in hand, Murasakibara is happy to note), it’s worth all the effort he’s put in when Kuroko gives him a smile, turning so that the two of them are standing face to face.
“Thank you for taking me out today. I really enjoyed myself.”
“Me too,” Murasakibara says. “If you’d like to do it again sometime, just let me know. Although,” he adds, slightly dejected, “it’ll be another three months before the next sweets festival. They’re only held four times a year.”
“I wouldn’t be cruel enough to keep you waiting that long,” Kuroko tells him, and Murasakibara perks up again.
“Kuro-chin~”
He’s permitted one last hug before Kuroko slips free, heading in the direction of the stand where he catches his train.
“I’ll see you next week, Murasakibara-kun.”
Waving him off blissfully, Murasakibara beams in farewell. “Bye bye.”
~~
It’s the first time Akashi has seen Kuroko in a yukata, and he offers him a smile of approval when he arrives at their meeting place.
“Traditional attire suits you, Tetsuya,” he says.
“I think it looks better on you, Akashi-kun,” is Kuroko’s response.
Pleased by the exchange of compliments, Akashi turns, beckoning for Kuroko to follow. Kuroko does it without question, and that pleases Akashi, too. “This way. There’s something I want you to see.”
“What is it?” Kuroko asks.
“You’ll find out when we get there. I wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”
What Akashi doesn’t tell him is that it’s also going to require a fair amount of effort, as Kuroko eventually discovers when Akashi brings him to the foot of a stairway that leads up to a shrine.
Kuroko looks daunted. “We have to climb all these?”
“Yes,” says Akashi, “and I even brought a stopwatch with me, so I’ll be timing how long it takes you to get to the top.”
Biting his lower lip, it’s written across Kuroko’s face as clear as day that he’d really rather be doing something less strenuous, but then he takes in a deep breath, expression determined with a hint of desperation. “I’ll do my best.”
Catching his sleeve before he can set off, Akashi says, amused, “I was kidding, Tetsuya. You shouldn’t take it so seriously.”
Kuroko frowns. “Please don’t make jokes that sound as if they’re true.”
“I’m sorry,” says Akashi, although he’s not really. “Still, it’s the ideal opportunity for a leg muscle workout.”
“You’re planning to train me even while we’re on a date? How cruel, Akashi-kun.”
But the effort will be worth it. Kuroko just doesn’t know that yet.
Because he’s stubborn, Kuroko forgets to pace himself, and he sets off far too quickly, so it’s not surprising in the slightest when it doesn’t take him long to run out of steam. Six minutes later, he’s already breathless, face flushed and panting, moving from one step to the other much more slowly than he did at the start.
Akashi waits for him at the halfway point, and Kuroko has to sit down so he can catch his breath.
“Your stamina is as terrible as ever,” Akashi points out. “I really need to fix that.”
“I’m sorry,” Kuroko says, “but I might be here a little while longer. Please feel free to go on without me.”
And Akashi could, quite easily, but he holds a hand out to Kuroko instead. “We’ll go together,” he declares, “and we’ll take our time.”
Kuroko is momentarily taken aback, but then he smiles, reaching for Akashi’s hand. He doesn’t release it, and Akashi tightens his grip, firm and secure, unmindful of the fact that Kuroko’s palm is hot against his and damp with sweat.
It’s another short walk, once they reach the top, but it brings them to the highest vantage point, and the view that it gives of the town below is stunning, even more so when the sun begins to sink beneath the horizon shortly afterwards.
“I know you like sunsets,” Akashi says, “so I thought this would be the best spot to watch one from.”
Kuroko doesn’t say anything, but his expression is awed. Akashi stands in silence with him, and they continue to hold hands as day turns slowly to night. It’s only when the sun has finally disappeared that he transfers his gaze to Akashi, eyes soft with sincerity. “Thank you for showing me such a wonderful sight.”
“It’s not over yet,” Akashi reminds him. “The summer festival is our next stop.”
It’s also the ideal arena in which he can display his prowess as a master of games, but more importantly, it’s Akashi’s chance to prove his superior ability to provide for his potential mate.
To do that, he needs to start winning prizes, and it’s why Akashi has chosen to bring Kuroko to a festival further away that he would normally go to, if only because he doesn’t want his bounty hunter reputation to precede him.
He doesn’t ask Kuroko what he wants when he picks out a shooting stall, because he intends to get everything that’s out on display, no matter what the cost. The first cork he fires hits a bag of cotton candy, and Kuroko gives him a quiet round of applause. The second earns Akashi a toy dog, the third a candy apple and the fourth a pack of cards.
The person manning the stall eyes him warily, but Akashi remains calm as ever, as he continues to methodically take down one target after the other. It leaves the stall keeper on the verge of tears when he hands over Akashi’s spoils, and it’s something he’s grown all too used to seeing.
“Wow,” says Kuroko, impressed, “you’re really good at this.”
“Of course I am. You should expect nothing less, Tetsuya.”
But Kuroko’s standards aren’t quite as high as Akashi’s, because when they move on to the goldfish scoop, he’s content with just the one, which Akashi finds vaguely disappointing, as he’s been planning on catching the lot.
“No more,” Kuroko insists. “This isn’t Pokemon, Akashi-kun. Besides, where would I keep them all?”
He has a point, so Akashi lets it slide.
The water yo-yo stall is different, though, and Akashi likes it for the level of difficulty it presents. The ring toss, on the other hand, is easier, but no less enjoyable, and it soon gets to the point where he needs a sack to store his winnings. Small children stop and stare, and Akashi’s ears pick up the word “Santa” more than once.
He’s only satisfied when he’s been to every single stall, getting threats from various people to never come back (again, nothing he hasn’t heard before), and it’s with great pride that he presents his winnings to Kuroko, who looks even more subdued now than he did at the foot of the stairs to the shrine.
“Thank you,” he says, and he seems to have difficulty dragging the sack, unlike Akashi. “I’m very flattered, although I’m not entirely sure what I’m going to do with this.”
Kuroko also isn’t used to standing out this much, and he certainly attracts a lot more attention than usual, courtesy of Akashi’s gift.
They end the evening with a fireworks display, and Kuroko lets Akashi hold his hand once more, the two of them sitting side by side, watching as colours of all kinds explode across the sky.
“They’re so beautiful,” Kuroko says, his face illuminated by the bursts of light.
“Not as beautiful as you,” Akashi tells him.
It makes Kuroko laugh, but just a little. “That’s so cheesy.”
“But it’s the truth.”
And Akashi isn’t embarrassed to say it.
He’s also not embarrassed to lift Kuroko’s hand to his mouth, pressing his lips to the backs of his knuckles (it isn’t against the rules, because he’s only kissing Kuroko on the hand, not on the mouth, and anyway, he’s club captain, so he can bend the rules slightly if it suits him), and it’s his turn to laugh when Kuroko blushes.
~~
It’s the most difficult weekend Kuroko has ever been through, and it goes by much quicker than he expects. He has only forty-eight hours in which to make a decision, which doesn’t seem like nearly long enough when he remembers there are five people waiting for his answer.
In a way, it doesn’t seem fair on any of them. Only one will receive a yes. The other four will all lose out.
That’s just how competition works.
He wonders if, when the time for his announcement comes on the following Monday, it will affect the way they work as a team, if it will affect their dynamic, or even if it will affect the way they interact with each other. That’s the last thing he wants, for things to change, because he likes them as they are now, with everyone getting along, at least after a fashion (because Midorima is prickly and dishonest with his feelings, and Akashi treats others more as underlings than equals).
Lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, Kuroko goes over the past few days inside his head.
Despite Kise’s tendency to be overly enthusiastic and affectionate, he genuinely likes Kuroko. He’s not afraid to say it either, although he can ruin it a bit with his shamelessness. Kuroko is quite sure Kise thinks about him in a way that’s less than pure, but he makes up for it by being so eager to please. He just wants Kuroko to be happy, and it’s difficult to deny that being the centre of someone’s world is very flattering, if a little stifling on occasion.
Midorima is a complete contrast in that he struggles to express himself emotionally, and if Kise is touchy-feely, then Midorima is undemonstrative, but the fact that it’s such a struggle for him to do even little things like holding hands is oddly endearing. He may be strict and unforgiving, but he’s also dependable, a person who can be trusted and relied on. He’d never forget Kuroko’s birthday or important anniversaries, although he probably have a hard time admitting it or celebrating them with cards and gifts.
As for Aomine, well, Kuroko would be lying if he didn’t confess to admiring and respecting him the most. He’s always been drawn to Aomine, ever since the moment they met, and the two of them complement each other perfectly, but only on the court. He’s even more of a pervert than Kise, or at least he pretends to be, but Kuroko knows how awkward intimacy can make him, and that he can be surprisingly sweet about the strangest things.
While Kuroko’s relationship with Aomine is strongest on the court, his relationship with Murasakibara is better off it. They get along really well with each other, and Kuroko likes being with Murasakibara. He finds the way Murasakibara’s childlike personality is at odds with his overwhelming appearance to be charming, and although he would probably feel more like his babysitter than his boyfriend sometimes, he doesn’t mind taking care of other people, and he gets the impression that Murasakibara would enjoy being spoiled.
Even though they’re each unique, Akashi still manages to stand out with little effort. Like Aomine, there’s something about him that draws Kuroko, and it’s different, compelling even. It’s because of Akashi that he’s been able to join the others on first string, that he’s been shown a whole new world, and he’ll always remember that. He’ll always be in Akashi’s debt, but that’s not why Kuroko would choose to be with him. He looks up to him just as much as Aomine, if not more so.
Suddenly, it hits Kuroko.
If he can’t decide on one, then he shouldn’t decide at all.
It’s the only way to ensure nobody’s feelings get hurt.
~~
And so, Kuroko is entirely truthful when he gives his verdict on Monday morning, bowing humbly before beginning his speech.
“I thought about it long and hard,” he says, “and in the end, I told myself that I wouldn’t make a choice. I love basketball, and I love all of you for wanting to play it with me. I’m very glad that I got to spend so much time with everyone last week, and I’ll be eternally grateful that we could be together like this. However, I believe it wouldn’t be right for me to pick one of you over the others. I like you all the same, so it would be impossible for me to choose anyway. I know it’s unrealistic, but I just want us all to be happy.”
There’s a moment of silence, but then Kise is the first to digest the information they’ve received.
“What you’re basically saying is that you’d rather date everybody instead of only one? That’s illegal, right?”
“Only if you’re married,” Murasakibara says.
“Oh.” Kise goes from being confused to being pleased. “So then it’s okay.”
“No,” Kuroko argues, frowning slightly, “I was trying to say–”
“If it’s fine with you, then it’s fine with me.” Aomine shrugs. “It’ll probably be a pain, but we’ll work something out.”
Akashi looks pensive. “Maybe I should have turned it into a battle royale instead?”
“This is ridiculous,” states Midorima, as a shudder passes through the group, “not to mention utterly impractical. Besides, a relationship should only involve two people. It may technically be legal, but it’s also immoral.”
“You think?” Kise rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t have a problem with it. Well, I’d rather have Kurokocchi all to myself, but this is the next best thing, so I can’t really complain.”
“Agreed,” says Murasakibara.
“Agreed,” says Aomine.
“I could always exercise my authority as club captain and tell you all to kindly get out of my way or else suffer the consequences,” says Akashi, “but since Tetsuya wouldn’t approve of that, I shall also offer my agreement.”
Midorima still looks like he’s going to protest, so Aomine puts a stop to the argument before it can go any further.
“All those in favour?”
Four hands rise.
“Then, we’re done here. Midorima, you’re outvoted.”
Spluttering indignantly, Midorima is about to speak when Kuroko beats him to it.
“Don’t *I* get a say in this?” he asks, but he’s being totally ignored while the other four discuss who gets to take his first kiss, and how they’re going to decide on it.
“We’ll draw straws,” Kise insists.
“Nah,” Aomine argues, “it has to be rock-paper-scissors.”
“We could roll a dice?” Murasakibara suggests.
“Or,” says Akashi, “we could have a death match.”
They continue to bicker among themselves, oblivious to Kuroko’s annoyance and Midorima’s consternation, and it doesn’t take them long to move their fight from who will get to claim Kuroko’s first kiss to who will get to take his virginity.
~~
“And that,” Kuroko concludes, a year and a half later over lunch break, “is how I ended up dating five guys at once.”
A clump of rice falls from Kagami’s chopsticks, jaw slack, face full of disbelief. “Oh god,” he groans, wondering if he’ll recover from the trauma. “Why are you even telling me this?”
“You asked if I’d ever gone out with anyone before.” Kuroko calmly takes a bite out of his sandwich. “So I gave you my reply.”
“Yeah, but...” Kagami trails off helplessly, still having far too much trouble coming to terms with Kuroko’s sordid past. “But...”
He gives up. It’s making his head hurt.
Kuroko simply carries on eating, like he’s not even bothered that Kagami’s brain is threatening to leak right out of his ears, like he hasn’t just said something completely insane, but more importantly, like he doesn’t care that Kagami has discovered his dirty little secret (assuming it *is* a secret, because he has absolutely no idea who else is aware of it).
He’s always thought the Generation of Miracles were weird, and now he has proof.
“You know,” he says, “in America, people would call you a slut.”
Kuroko blinks. “Is that how you see me, Kagami-kun?”
“Um.” If Kagami is honest, then yes, he does consider Kuroko to be rather... sexually promiscuous, but then again, this is Japan, and they do stuff differently here, so maybe it’s considered more acceptable, or maybe it’s some sort of weird tradition from Teikou middle school, kind of like Riko’s hazing rituals at Seirin. Opting for tact, he says, “I guess you can never have too much of a good thing.”
For some reason, it makes Kuroko smile, so Kagami cautiously presses him for further details, and he’s not sure if it’s down to curiosity or because he’s a masochist.
“Are you still dating them?”
Taking a sip of his apple juice, Kuroko nods. “It’s a little difficult, with Akashi-kun being all the way in Kyoto, but we manage. Web cams are very useful.”
“Uh-huh.” Hoping he comes across as sounding casual, Kagami asks, “Incidentally, who *was* your first kiss?”
“Akashi-kun. The others were too afraid to oppose him.”
“And who did you, um, sleep with first?”
“Akashi-kun, but that time was different.” Kuroko’s eyes go misty, as if there’s a flashback taking place in his mind. “There was a water gun fight, where the last person standing would have been the winner, but when Akashi-kun told everyone he’d bent the rules by filling his gun with hydrochloric acid from the chemistry lab, they all surrendered immediately.”
“What,” says Kagami, “the *fuck*?”
“He was only joking. He’d actually filled it with disinfectant. Akashi-kun can be a bit of a clean freak.”
And that’s what settles it, for Kagami.
The Generation of Miracles aren’t just weird, they’re clinically insane.
No wonder Kuroko is so messed up. Anyone would be after spending so long being exposed to a group of maniacs.
“But you were willing, right? I mean you weren’t...” Kagami pauses, trying to find the words. “Nobody forced you into anything?”
“Of course they didn’t.” Kuroko looks offended. “I’m perfectly capable of resisting.”
“Oh.” Kagami sighs in relief. “That’s good.”
“Capable,” Kuroko repeats, a devious glint in his eyes, “but not always willing.”
Kagami goes bright red, because, hell, what else can he do after being told by Kuroko that he’s not opposed to being manhandled when he’s in the mood for a little rough treatment?
It leads to him wondering what other things Kuroko doesn’t mind participating in, which is why, stammering slightly, he says, “If you dated them all at once, did you ever... you know, do it with them all at once?”
“I’ve never had an orgy before, if that’s what you’re implying.”
Kagami chokes on thin air. How Kuroko can make such statements without even a hint of shame is beyond him, but it’s Kuroko’s turn to be the curious one, and he stares at Kagami like he’s seriously considering something.
“Would you like to try dating me, Kagami-kun? I’m a good fuck. I also give excellent blowjobs.”
Swallowing hard to stop any more humiliating noises from escaping, Kagami clears his throat. “Wouldn’t your...” He doesn’t know what to call them (boyfriends? Lovers? Fuck buddies?), so he settles on, “Former team mates have something to say about it? Not that I’m interested or anything,” he adds quickly.
“It shouldn’t be a problem,” Kuroko replies. “They all acknowledge you now.”
“Yeah,” says Kagami, “in *basketball*, not in bed.”
And then he wills a hole in the floor to open so he can disappear through it.
Kuroko smiles again, but it’s more predatory than before, almost businesslike. “We could go out this weekend, if that’s all right with you. I’m with Kise-kun on Saturday, but I can certainly fit you in for Sunday. I’ll leave the location for you to decide, but I’m relatively easy to please.”
“Wait,” says Kagami, “what? No, seriously. What?”