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Sometimes during study breaks their sleep schedules get thrown really terribly. So they wake up at hours too early to comprehend, exhausted, hungry and restless. Daichi heats the leftovers and prepares a flask of hot chocolate, Kuroo gets their coats and some blankets and they set out. They hop into their beat up old Nissan, pumping the clutch once, twice, sure to awake all their neighbours and drive leisurely into the night.
When it’s warm enough, they picnic. The beach is dark and menacing, but it's cool and the calm of sea breeze washes over them. Daichi thinks they could be lost for days and he still wouldn't feel any less at home than he feels with Kuroo. Kuroo; warm and pliant with his ever-brilliant bedhead and the lilt to his voice, strong hands that belie the gentleness with which they thread into Daichi's hair, Kuroo who gives up trying to look awake, opting to curl into Daichi’s lap instead.
It's coming up sunrise now, the sky is tinged peach and Kuroo is half-asleep, the air is crisp and their faces are lightly flushed, morning dew not quite settled yet, dusting their hair. Kuroo can't help but stare. It sounds cliche and stupid but Daichi could ask Kuroo for his heart on platter right now, and Kuroo would so willingly give it to him anyone would think he'd have offered it first. Daichi who doesn't belong on a dirt covered earth, but among billions of stars just like himself. Daichi, who’s sturdy and warm and so full of life.
Daichi sits and watches the sun spill over onto the sea. And that's it. That's the moment that'll stick with him. Two of the most beautiful parts of life blending into one another, the sun that bleeds like an egg yolk, folding into the ripples of the boundless sea. What comes out of this matrimony dances, sparkles and casts itself over them. Daichi thinks that the sight is probably the most accurate description to what loving Kuroo feels like. An expanse of light, uncertainty, wonder and surprise, condensed into a lanky mass of well-muscled too-long limbs and bird-nest hair in his lap.
Now it's just bright enough and Daichi’s features are lit, all sharp lines and soft curves. Kuroo squints a little, eyes unmoving from Daichi’s face. If Daichi so wished, Kuroo would follow him to the moon. Help him map the skies and pocket as many stars as he could, in hopes of bottling enough of them that could amount equally to one Daichi. He would. Daichi with eyes full of something, Kuroo can’t quite place. It’s soft, gentle, almost akin to fondness and Kuroo’s a lost cause. He just looks. He must have been daydreaming, because he doesn’t notice when Daichi leans in to brush his nose against Kuroo's. He thinks he hears himself speak, but it's not his voice. It's Daichi’s, murmuring just loud enough for him to hear, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “Like what you see?"
Kuroo smiles dumbly, closes the distance between them, “Yeah, ‘bit too much."