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The sound of the alarm seemed to come from directly about Kuroko’s head. He jerked awake with a gasp, tumbling out of bed and into his houseshoes. The alarm kept blaring, a klaxon he distantly recalled from drills as a signal for fire.
Now that he thought about it, Kuroko could smell smoke.
That more than anything hurried his steps as he grabbed his keys, shoved them in his sweatpants pocket, and rushed down the hall and outside to the courtyard. The rest of his fellow apartment residents were gathering there in the chilly pre-dawn air. Most of them had had the presence of mind to grab jackets or blankets on the way out.
Kuroko blinked the last bits of sleep from his eyes and looked around, taking stock of his situation. The fire alarm was faintly audible from inside the building, and it was now joined in discordant harmony by a fire truck pulling into the parking lot. A stiff wind blew through the bare trees, and he shivered.
His most immediate problem was his clothing. In his haste, Kuroko hadn’t remembered to bring a jacket, and his thin t-shirt wasn’t enough to keep out the breeze. He looked down and scowled. He’d forgotten his binder, too.
Resisting the urge to cross his arms over his chest, he proceeded to a nearby bench and sat down as firefighters rushed into the building. He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the bench.
A moment or two later--just long enough that the cold had really seeped into Kuroko’s lungs and bones--a large person radiating warmth thumped down on the other side of the bench.
“Are you cold?” the source of the warmth asked.
Kuroko opened his eyes and looked his neighbor over. He was big and broad, just like he’d expected; standing, he would tower over Kuroko, even though they were of a similar age. He tried not to resent the guy for that. His size wasn’t his most distinguishing feature, though: that honor belonged to the warm brown eyes set under thick brows.
“I have a blanket,” the guy said, waving the edge of it a bit. “I don’t mind sharing.”
“I don’t even know your name,” Kuroko responded, suspicious. He could take care of himself, but that doesn’t mean he knew that.
“Oh! Sorry man,” he apologized. “I’ve seen you so much in the gym that I forgot we haven’t actually met. I’m Kiyoshi Teppei.” He held out a hand.
“Kuroko Tetsuya,” he responded. “You’ve seen me in the gym?”
Kiyoshi nodded, smiling wistfully. “I keep up with the people I see working with basketballs. I used to play, until-- I used to play.” He looked down and away for a moment, and Kuroko noticed the edge of a brace peeking out beneath the hem of his shorts. Then he looked back up, meeting Kuroko’s eyes and smiling brilliantly again. “But now I’m in sports science. Pre-physical therapy. What are you majoring in?”
“Early childhood education,” Kuroko responded, challengingly. It wasn’t the most masculine of career choices, a fact he tried very hard to not give a fuck about.
Rather than saying something disparaging, Kiyoshi just nodded. Kuroko felt himself soften towards the guy a bit more.
“I really will share my blanket if you’re cold,” Kiyoshi said. “You usually wear extra layers, I know, so--”
“Why do you know so much about me?” Kuroko inturrupted.
To his surprise, Kiyoshi flushed. “Well… I--like I said, I see you in the gym, and… My friends told me I need to stop mooning over the cute basketball player and just ask you out already.” The last bit came out in a rush.
Kuroko stared. Any response he was about to give was cut off by a gust of wind that made him shiver violently.
“Here, god, sorry,” Kiyoshi said, and before Kuroko could react he was swathed in his fuzzy, violently pink blanket.
“Y-you don’t have to do that,” Kuroko stuttered, even as his treacherous fingers pulled the warm fabric closer around him.
Kiyoshi waved the protest away. “I run hot, it’s fine.”
You certainly do, Kuroko thought. No longer swaddled in the blanket, he could see that Kiyoshi certainly hadn’t let himself go after he stopped playing basketball.
Again before he could speak, Kuroko was interrupted.
“All clear! The fire is put out and you can go back inside!” called a red-haired fireman from the front of the building.
Kiyoshi stood, and Kuroko followed him. “I guess I gave that to you a little late, didn’t I,” Kiyoshi apologized.
“Tell you what,” Kuroko said, surprising himself with his boldness. “It’s almost morning anyway I’ll give it back to you at breakfast. My treat.”
The brightness of Kiyoshi’s smile put the rising sun to shame.