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Aomine wrapped his arms around Tetsu’s waist and fitted his chest to his boyfriend’s back. “You ditched me in bed, Tetsu. How cruel,” he muttered into Kuroko’s neck before pressing lazy kisses to the skin there.
“It’s the afternoon, Daiki. It was time for both of us to get out of bed.” Kuroko smiled anyway, shifting in Aomine’s arms so they could properly kiss. “Good morning, lazy,” Kuroko teased when they broke apart for air.
Aomine mock pouted before nibbling on Kuroko’s earlobe, enjoying the sounds of pleasure that slipped out from Kuroko. “It’s not very attractive to insult people, Tetsu,” Aomine retorted.
“Hmm…” Kuroko tangled a hand in Aomine’s hair and looped a finger through a belt loop on Aomine’s jeans with his other, tugging them even closer together. “Perhaps I should move out then.” Kuroko heaved a dramatic sigh. “My boyfriend doesn’t love me anymore,” he whined.
“Oh please.” Aomine prevented any further theatrics by sealing their lips once more. When he pulled back, he grinned widely. “You’re stuck with me, buddy.” He trailed kisses from Kuroko’s temple down to his collarbone and back up to the small smile on the shadow’s face. “As if I could ever even imagine loving anyone but you.” He closed the distance between them once more in the deepest and most heated kiss that day.
They moved only inches away from the other when they broke for air and Kuroko whispered against Aomine’s lips, “Love you too… lazy.”
He kissed the stupid grin on his boyfriend’s face.
The smile on Kuroko’s face now is bittersweet as he watches Aomine’s back retreat down his apartment steps, never turning back. Kuroko had silently slipped from bed after Aomine had gotten up, sure Kuroko was asleep. When the navy jacket disappears into the still-dark hours of the early morning, Kuroko slumps to the floor as shudders rack through his body and he clutches his knees to his chest, wishing it were Aomine he held in his arms. He allows himself one moment of weakness by lowering his head to his knees and pressing his eyes closed, wondering if the pressure can force away the memory of watching Aomine leave… again. He doesn’t cry. He’d stopped crying after the fifth visit.
Steeling his nerves, he stands up and closes the door, lingering only a few seconds this time. Endless pining would only lead to tears—something he’d learned very well these past weeks.
A week later, like clockwork, Aomine is back on his doorstep and Kuroko hesitates to even get out of bed. The only thing that pulls him out from the safety of his covers is the noise complaint he’s sure to receive from the neighbors if he leaves Aomine out there long enough. Fate has decided to effectively ruin Kuroko’s life. Aomine only visits drunk, and he’s stubbornly persistent about seeing Kuroko—because of the alcohol, Kuroko reminds himself.
“TEEEEETSUUUUURGH” comes the drunk calls of Aomine obstinately leaning against Kuroko’s apartment doorbell. Pushing down all emotions and opening the door—
“Hello, Aomine-kun. You’re drunk. Please go home.” The “please” is a strangled beg but of course Aomine can’t hear it through his drunken stupor. His face is too busy morphing into a childlike grin that threatens to tear Kuroko’s heart in two. He hates this part the most. Because that stupid smile in unfair. And because the smell of alcohol is as thick as the tension that only Kuroko can feel. And because Aomine immediately reaches for Kuroko, as though they were never meant to separate and Kuroko always almost lets him because, god, he wants to. He really does.
“Tetsuuu. Youuuu—yourr facee is so beautiflllll.”
Faking a smile, Kuroko gently removes the grip on his arm, causing Aomine to frown down at the loss, and try once more to persuade Aomine to leave. “It’s late, Aomine-kun. You should really get going. You have work tomorrow.”
That stupid, stupid grin lights up his face and Kuroko’s gut twists. “Of course it’s late. I need—“ he steps closer to Kuroko and hugs him strongly, too heavy and too determined for Kuroko to stop (and unwelcome Kuroko reminds himself) “—Tetsu to sleep. I can’t sleep without Tetsu.” The words are so soft that Kuroko strains to hear them even though Aomine face is buried in his neck and he can feel his heavy breathing on his skin. The smell of alcohol once again invades Kuroko’s thoughts. You need to go please, Aomine-kun.
“We don’t do that anymore, Aomine-kun. You know that,” Kuroko pushes Aomine’s chest, firm, but gentle at the same time, just in time to see Aomine’s face scrunch in thought. “Noooo. I don’t know why.” Kuroko is a bit surprised at just how drunk the man is. He usually comes over all smirks and twists Kuroko’s heart until it pitifully follows to the bed for regrets and self-loathing in the morning to come. But tonight—Tonight, Aomine seems… sad. And Kuroko knows from experience that he has had a full night of drinking then. “Aomine-kun. You do know. Now kindly leave. We both need sleep.”
“Mmmm…” The mumble is barely audible and prefaces Aomine’s quiet “Ok” that finally releases the knots in Kuroko stomach. In his relief, he almost misses Aomine moving further into the apartment. “No. Aomine-kun, you have your own apartment.”
His smiles stops Kuroko’s heart and Kuroko hears Aomine’s response as if underwater. It’s the same dumb smile Aomine reserves for nights when he’s tired and worried about coming home late to Kuroko—the loving smile that says “you’re everything to me” when Kuroko assures him he’d wait for days for Aomine to come home.
By the time Kuroko registers the whispered “But my apartment doesn’t have Tetsu” and finally moves from his spot frozen by the door, Aomine has already made it to the door of the bedroom, waiting for Kuroko. Knowing that it’s beyond and possibility of Aomine leaving, Kuroko shuts the door and pads into his room. The two settle onto the bed in the same spots they always did and Kuroko has to remind himself to breathe when an arm settles around his stomach and a chest presses against his back. He closes his eyes for the escape of sleep and wonders if this is worse than a night of heavy breathing from something other than alcohol and warm bodies pressing in other ways. Aomine’s gentle kisses in his hair and along his neck before settling down to sleep himself assure Kuroko it is infinitely worse. Love hits so much harder than lust.
Kuroko wakes and unconsciously reaches for warmth on the other side of the bed.
He wonders if more sleep will remove the despair of feeling nothing.
It’s almost a relief when Aomine visits four days later with heated looks and roaming lips moving much too fast to form the smile that Kuroko was certain would have him in tears.
He gasps when teeth bite into skin and vaguely laments that Aomine won’t see the mark in the morning. Then the thought of waking up to Aomine leaning over and kissing him good morning, smiling down as if nothing ever happened, quickly changes Kuroko’s mind. He’s not sure he can take waking up to that smile.
Kuroko smiles bitterly at Aomine’s moans of “God, I love you, Tetsu”. They’re words said in the moment that will be forgotten in the morning. He doesn’t allow himself to linger on the feelings the words stir up, deep in his gut. He pulls Aomine’s head to his own to lose himself in fiery kisses and touches that make him burn in another, less painful way.
He swears the “Daiki”s that fall from his lips are just another thing that will be lost in the morning.