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When it started, Seijuurou doesn’t know. He certainly didn’t wake up one day and think, simply, “Hey, you know, it’d be great if I pined after my next-door neighbor’s cute butt for months but do nothing about it.” He supposes it might have been six months ago, when he was struggling to haul his groceries in and his neighbor came over and helped him. Or, it might have been eight months ago, when he first moved in and his neighbor bestowed upon him a freshly cooked peach pie. Hell, it might have been three weeks ago, when his neighbor was setting up Christmas decorations and tangled himself in garlands. (Seijuurou did have the pleasure of helping him get untangled.)
Regardless of how it happened, the truth remains: he’s besotted with his neighbor but has no idea what to do about it. He might be an Akashi, but he has no experience in the field of dating. His friends are of no help, either; Murasakibara prefers being single, and Midorima is too awkward for romance.
The struggle could not be more real.
Time has flown by, and so has Seijuurou’s birthday, honestly. He’s twenty-five now, but rather pathetically, he still has no idea what to do in order to court one Kuroko Tetsuya, otherwise known as my-cute-neighbor-I’ve-fallen-for-and-now-I-can’t-get-up.
It’s now Christmas Eve, and Seijuurou is seated at his table in his kitchen, sighing as he gazes out his window, which is open for whatever reason. Oh, wait. He wanted to let the cold air in so he could freeze to his miserable death. It’s surely a much better fate than helplessly pining after Kuroko. He has a mug of hot coffee right in front of him, its purpose being waking him up enough so he can start cooking dinner. Why is he cooking dinner at ten in the morning? Simply because Murasakibara could eat his whole house and not be satisfied, so Seijuurou has to be more than prepared for when Murasakibara and Midorima come over to spend Christmas Eve with him later on.
He takes a sip from his coffee, still silently lamenting over his situation, and then he catches a whiff of smoke on the wind. He narrows his eyes suspiciously. He’s pretty sure no one is crazy enough to barbecue in these freezing temperatures. He nimbly hops to his feet, coffee abandoned, and inches his way over to his window, crimson eyes peering out into the cold, searching for the origins of the smoky smell.
Of course, it’s coming from Kuroko’s house. The open window facing Seijuurou’s house, in fact.
It registers about a second later.
Seijuurou must be banging on Kuroko’s door not even six seconds later, trying not to shiver in his sweatshirt and jeans against the cold. It takes a few seconds for Kuroko to open the door, clad in a tacky red sweater and loose pants that are sliding down his hips—wait, this isn’t the time. Kuroko is coughing, squinting, and smoke is pouring out behind him, framing his outline rather ominously.
Seijuurou, since he sees no immediate cause of danger aside from the smoke, attempts to play it cool as he tries to slide past Kuroko to investigate. “Hey, Kuroko—sorry, I noticed the smoke, and—well, that’s embarrassing,” Seijuurou blinks as he arrives at the source of the smoke. Embarrassing for who, he’s not sure. Seijuurou, for being so worried over smoke, or Kuroko, for burning the food on his stove so badly that smoke had started to pour out the windows.
Kuroko trails behind him, emotionless mask for once abandoned as a mixture of confusion and embarrassment shows on his face. “It is quite embarrassing,” Kuroko admits, sheepishly, hands vanishing into the sleeves of his sweater as he crosses his arms and pouts a little. Oh dear god, Seijuurou thinks, mortified, his stove is burning and here I am thinking that he’s cuter than normal today. Get your head out of the gutter, Seijuurou. “I’m—well, I’m not that great of a cook, but I have a lot of food I need to cook… somehow…” Kuroko frowns, shoulders dipping in discouragement. Seijuurou is already speaking before his brain catches up with his mouth.
“I could cook for you.” Silence falls between them. Seijuurou remembers the pan, and he looks back, but Kuroko must have extinguished the fire (obviously, why would he come running to the door if his kitchen was on fire, stupid), and the smoke is clearing out. There is no saving himself at this point.
“O—oh,” Kuroko’s widened eyes soften a little with hesitation. “Well, Akashi-kun, if you’re sure…”
Screw Murasakibara and Midorima. If he has the chance to spend the whole day with Kuroko, he’s taking it. “Of course,” Seijuurou replies, flashing Kuroko his best smile. Kuroko smiles minutely in response, and Seijuurou really needs to get his shit together because he can’t cook if he’s a pile of goo on the floor. When did he become so sappy?
Oh, right. After he started pining after his neighbor.
Thank god his father is out of the country for the holiday.
Kuroko was not exaggerating when he said he needed to make a lot of food.
Seijuurou would not be exaggerating to say he is an excellent cook.
He also would not be exaggerating to say that he had to forcibly keep his jaw attached to his head when Kuroko admitted he only has a few friends that are coming over, not an entire party like Seijuurou had been expecting with all of the food.
He must have friends that have appetites like Murasakibara’s.
Sometime in the afternoon, everything is done, and all there’s left to wait for is the ham that’s still cooking. Seijuurou unties the plain white apron Kuroko lent to him and exits the kitchen, poking his head into the dining room where Kuroko recently retired to. Kuroko is seated at the table that can seat eight, shoulders slumped and chin in hand. He looks up when he notices the bright red of Seijuurou’s hair.
“Done?” He asks, sitting up, but his shoulders don’t raise. Seijuurou refrains from frowning. He can’t be too sure, but he thinks Kuroko is upset. He can’t fathom why, considering it’s Christmas Eve. Even Seijuurou himself is in a better mood than normal (and not just because he got to spend all this time with Kuroko, definitely not).
“Yeah,” Seijuurou answers, rounding the corner to take a seat at Kuroko’s table. Kuroko smiles, but the gesture is empty.
“Thank you. I’m really grateful,” Kuroko says, even though he sounds like he’s struggling to keep his voice even. Seijuurou lets his frown show this time. Before he can ask what’s wrong, though, a tear falls from Kuroko’s eye. Followed by another. And another. Until he’s crying and sniffling, futilely trying to wipe away the tears as his cheeks burn in embarrassment. Seijuurou is a little horrified and a little stumped, because comforting crying people has never been his forte, especially when he has no idea what they’re crying about.
Seijuurou stands, a feat in itself, and hesitantly makes his way to Kuroko’s side. He doesn’t quite manage to touch Kuroko, but he leans down, trying to make his expression as gentle as possible. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks, quietly, hoping he isn’t as awkward as he thinks he is.
Kuroko turns watery sapphire blue eyes on him, and Seijuurou kind of just collapses into the chair next to him, at a complete loss. Kuroko uselessly wipes an arm across his face, a laugh filled with self-loathing and sadness bubbling in his throat. “I’m sorry,” he apologizes, hiccupping slightly. “I’m sorry—it’s just—I wanted to do something nice for my friends, but every time I try to do something, it somehow backfires and everything gets ruined. And I really should have known better than to volunteer to cook this year because I just—can’t cook—but I was stupid enough to do it, and now—” More bitter laughter falls out of his mouth as he covers his face with his hands. A few seconds pass, and Kuroko peers through his fingers at Seijuurou. There’s still misery swimming in the single eye that stares at him, and Seijuurou feels something heavy in his chest. “And now I have my neighbor, who was kind enough to cook for me, fretting over my fragile mental state.” A long sigh. “Sorry, really. It’s been a long week.”
Seijuurou swallows roughly. “It’s okay,” he says, and it is, really. And then, because he really can’t help himself, “I’m sorry if I made you feel bad. I just, uh,” oh, wow, nice stammer, “wanted to help you.”
Kuroko’s head shoots up as his blue eyes widen, and Seijuurou jumps in his seat, wondering if he said something wrong. This is what you get for picking two friends and sticking to them, you useless sack of potatoes. “No, don’t apologize!” He bursts out, surprising Seijuurou. Kuroko never raises his voice. As if realizing this, Kuroko sinks down in his seat, expression a little sheepish. His tears have slowed down. “Sorry—long week. Anyway, I don’t want you to feel bad. It really wasn’t your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong; in fact, you helped me out a lot, so the last thing I want you to do is apologize."
Seijuurou can’t help his small, relieved smile at that. “I’m glad that I helped, then.”
Kuroko sniffles, wiping away the last of his tears, and gives Seijuurou a tiny, genuine smile. Seijuurou idly thinks his heart just malfunctioned because it skipped at least two beats. “Thank you. I’m glad that you came over.”
Seijuurou’s smile widens a little, and then he checks his phone (which he thought to bring before he ran like a madman out of his house). Upon seeing the time, he groans, rolling his eyes. “Oh, god, Murasakibara is going to eat my house because I didn’t make any food,” he laments, allowing himself a moment of reprieve to collapse onto the table, face-first.
“Were you having guests over?” Kuroko asks, but his regretful tone says it all. Without waiting for Seijuurou’s answer, he stands from his chair, the chair legs scraping against the tile floor. “I’m so sorry. To make up for it, why don’t you and your friends spend Christmas Eve here? We have plenty of food.” Seijuurou looks up in time to see Kuroko’s small smile slip into a frown. “Even if I didn’t make any of it…”
Seeing as how Kuroko is so depressed over this (plus he’s inviting them over for dinner), Seijuurou racks his brain for a solution. It only takes a few seconds to find a remedy for the situation. “Thank you for the offer. I think we’ll take you up on it,” Seijuurou says with a grin. “But we can’t start without dessert. And I haven’t made any yet…”
If that peach pie was made by Kuroko, then that means he’s better at baking than cooking. And if that’s the case…
Kuroko positively glows. (No, Seijuurou is not silently gloating over the fact that he made Kuroko happy; what are you talking about…) “I can make dessert,” he quickly says, and Seijuurou swears that there are flowers blooming around his head. “And I definitely won’t set the kitchen on fire this time. Thanks, Akashi-kun!” Kuroko leans down to bump shoulders with him before making a beeline for the kitchen. Seijuurou watches him go rather dreamily before something occurs to him.
Kuroko plus baking equals apron. Doesn’t it?
Seijuurou definitely does not loiter in the kitchen the whole time, nor does he sneak a few pictures. (And he most definitely does not persuade Kuroko to wear the frilly white apron with hearts on it.)
It’s comical watching Kuroko crane his neck to look at Murasakibara. Before, Seijuurou was the only person who had to do that, but now there’s someone even shorter than him. (Not that Seijuurou is short. Of course not. His friends are just abnormally tall.)
As Seijuurou suggested he do, Kuroko offers Murasakibara and Midorima a plate of chocolate chip cookies fresh out of the oven. Midorima makes an appreciative noise, but Murasakibara gets down on one knee and proposes, and even though Seijuurou knows that he isn’t serious, he can’t help the tiny prick of jealousy in his chest. And Kuroko, well, he takes it in stride and gently turns him down, but gives him the rest of the cookies as an apology.
“Kuro-chin is my new best friend,” Murasakibara announces, stuffing his face with Kuroko’s delicious cookies. Midorima rolls his eyes, and Seijuurou chuckles, glad that they’re at least getting along. Midorima has made it clear he doesn’t like Kuroko purely because he’s an Aquarius, but Seijuurou does notice, with some amusement, that he is trying to make some kind of conversation with Kuroko.
Everything is rather calm, all four of them gathered in Kuroko’s spacious living room with Christmas music softly playing over the speakers. Kuroko’s couch is white, but it’s the only colorless thing in the room. His TV is dark blue (“my friend spray-painted it”), his armchair is dark red (“Kagami-kun bought it for me, but he insists on using it every time he comes over), the big round carpet on his floor is sunshine yellow (“fashionable, he said. We’ve doubted his taste ever since”), his coffee table is bright pink (a fond smile only), his bookshelf is dark green (“it was on sale”), his speakers are purple (“I thought they looked nice”), and the lamp is rainbow-colored (“honestly… we were too scared to deny him”). There is also an assortment of bean bags on the ground, all in varying colors. All of the cushions on the couch are bright red, and the computer in the corner is black (black desk, black computer, black monitor, even black keyboard).
To be honest, Seijuurou did not expect Kuroko, who is the epitome of traditional Japanese politeness (when he hasn’t had a long week, that is), to have such a westernized house, but he supposes he shouldn’t be making assumptions.
The colors are also a bit dizzying to look at.
Seijuurou is starting to relax, maybe even getting a little sleepy from all the cooking and from not finishing his coffee this morning, when the doorbell rings.
In the next few minutes, all hell breaks loose.
From the moment Kuroko mentioned their large appetites, Seijuurou should have known Kuroko’s friends would be rowdy. But, no, he had compared Kuroko’s friends to Murasakibara, and thoughtlessly pinned them down as perhaps having the same mellow personality. Alas—he was very, very wrong.
There is Kagami Taiga, whose voice is always loud and booming, and his odd double eyebrows just downright make him look strange. He has no manners—but, then again, neither does Aomine Daiki, a man with dark blue hair that is too chummy with Kuroko for Seijuurou’s liking. Kise Ryouta is just as annoying as the first two, if not more, because he insists on maintaining close contact with Kuroko at all times. Momoi Satsuki is someone Seijuurou would normally admire, but the way she openly hugs Kuroko and clings to his arm grates on Seijuurou’s nerves.
Again, Seijuurou should stop making assumptions, because he would never have guessed that mellow, quiet Kuroko could make friends that are so touchy and energetic.
Seijuurou is as civil as possible, as are Midorima and Murasakibara, who are dealing with situation Seijuurou forced them into fantastically. Quietly, Seijuurou observes that Kise actually takes a liking to Midorima for some strange reason, and Momoi happily chats with Murasakibara, even going so far as to bestowing the nickname “Mukkun” to the giant. Murasakibara seems quite pleased with the development.
The food is being rapidly devoured since it’s past dusk by now, which seems to universally signal that it’s time for dinner. Anyone who is not the bottomless pits known as Kagami, Aomine, or Murasakibara has to scramble to get their food before the trio gets to it. With the three of them there, the food is finished in record time, and Kuroko is left to clean up while muttering about how he was going to rely on the leftovers for all of next week’s dinner. Seijuurou apologizes for Murasakibara, but Kuroko waves him off, saying Kagami and Aomine both probably ate more than him.
(Well, maybe, but that was because Murasakibara was saving room for dessert.)
Dessert certainly was fantastic, and while Seijuurou was thanked for cooking dinner (Kuroko confessed that Seijuurou cooked dinner to his friends), Kuroko is showered with praise for his baking skills. Seijuurou is sure Murasakibara is considering proposing to Kuroko again, but he, thankfully, doesn’t. Seijuurou really isn’t sure how Kuroko managed to make the assortment of cakes, cookies, pies, and various other desserts in such a short amount of time, but he will put it down as one of the mysteries of the universe.
As time steadily rolls by, Kuroko leans back in the bean bag he’s resting in (they’ve all gathered in the colorful living room with the not-so-colorful couch to watch Christmas movies), peering at Seijuurou and his two friends through his lashes. “Would you like to stay over?” He offers, kindly, his voice not wavering despite the dark circles beneath his eyes. “It’s getting late, and everyone else will be staying over. I have room for three more people.”
It is a rather large house, Seijuurou recalls, thinking of how it looks from the outside. Midorima and Murasakibara look to Seijuurou, giving their permission to let him decide for them. They were, after all, going to stay the night at Seijuurou’s. Seijuurou turns to Kuroko, smiling gratefully. Inwardly, he’s a little excited. “We’d like that. Thank you for your kindness.”
Kuroko smiles in return before turning back to the movie, hand absently stroking the fur of his dog, Nigou. Seijuurou isn’t sure where he was earlier (Seijuurou has seen Nigou on multiple occasions before, anyway), but he suddenly appeared during A Christmas Carol and curled up next to his owner. Aomine seems to be a big fan of his, while Kagami can’t get far enough from him. Seijuurou files this information away for later.
Around eleven at night, Kuroko starts to herd them upstairs to the bedrooms to go to sleep. “Santa-san isn’t going to come if you’re up past midnight,” he deadpans, completely serious, and even Seijuurou cannot argue against him despite the fact that he is a very logical person. Aomine and Kagami don’t make fun of him, and actually look rather apprehensive, which leads Seijuurou to wonder if there was an incident having to do with ‘Santa’ before. (Also, what’s with the Santa-san?)
Considering there are only two bathrooms on the second floor (and one of them is in Kuroko’s master bedroom), there is a lot of shoving and pushing as everyone tries to brush their teeth and do their business. Seijuurou, Murasakibara, and Midorima wisely take turns using the bathroom on the first floor, but Seijuurou is slightly irked when Kuroko shares his bathroom with Kise when the blond started whining about Kagami and Aomine not giving him any space. (Technically, Kuroko shared with Momoi as well, but throughout the evening, Seijuurou has learned that Kuroko views Momoi as more of a sister or close friend than anything, so he’s no longer bothered by her.)
Kuroko has four bedrooms, not bad for a house of this size, and he unceremoniously shoves Aomine and Kagami into a room together, earning many, many protests from the rivals (this is a definite fact). Kuroko turns to Seijuurou, who is staring at him in amusement, and monotones, “Kagami-kun and Aomine-kun snore loudly, so I spare Kise-kun and Momoi-san by making them sleep in the same room.”
Seijuurou covers his chuckle with his hand while Midorima coughs and Murasakibara lets a lazy grin spread across his face.
Momoi leans in, giggling, and wraps an arm around Kise, who flashes them a peace sign. “Dai-chan gets jealous because I always share a room with Ki-chan,” she whispers in a conspiratorial voice, and even Kuroko cracks a smile at that. Kise covers his mouth to keep his laughter in check.
Seijuurou, however, blinks. “Are you two…?” Seijuurou trails off in a wondering voice, but Momoi flashes him a sheepish smile and shrugs, helplessly, before pulling a chuckling Kise away to their room. Kuroko begins to guide Seijuurou, Midorima, and Murasakibara to their room, leaning over to whisper to them.
“Aomine-kun is rather hopeless. Poor Momoi-san,” Kuroko murmurs, sympathetically, as he opens the door to the last guest room. It’s already been set up with three futons, and Seijuurou, who went back to his house to get an overnight bag, and Murasakibara and Midorima, who still have their overnight bags on them since they were supposed to stay the night at Seijuurou’s, all set their bags down on the floor. The room is decorated simply in neutral colors, a contrast to the chaos of Kuroko’s living room.
Seijuurou feels a little foolish knowing that Aomine and Momoi are dancing around each other and so he had no reason to be envious of either of them. He sighs inaudibly. It’s quite a pain to be pining after someone, but he actually quite likes Kuroko after getting to know him better today, so he doesn’t think he would trade in his feelings for anything, really.
How hopelessly cheesy. (He’s such a sap.)
“Thank you again for letting us stay over,” Seijuurou says with a polite smile. He knows Kuroko didn’t have to, considering Seijuurou’s own house is right next door, but perhaps his offers was a way of thanking him again for cooking for him and his friends. Maybe, also, Kuroko thought it would be more festive if they spent their Christmas with more people than just their small group of three.
(Maybe, just maybe, Kuroko wanted him to stay.
Hey, dreams are free.)
Kuroko slips him a small smile back. “It’s my pleasure. Good night, Akashi-kun, Midorima-kun, Murasakibara-kun,” he bows to them, low and straight-backed, and the trio is compelled to aim their haphazard bows back to him whilst bidding him good night. Kuroko closes the door behind him, and while Midorima and Murasakibara say nothing to Seijuurou, they send him expressions that tell him that they’ve caught onto his ‘little’ crush.
He wishes it was just a little crush.
Seijuurou merely sighs, ignoring his friends, and picks a futon to sleep in. Midorima turns off the lights, and Seijuurou tries to find a comfortable position to sleep in. He winds up staring at the ceiling for a long time.
Although, it doesn’t take long for the snoring to start.
Kuroko was not exaggerating. Aomine and Kagami are so loud that Seijuurou can hear them from this room. He hears the muted mutter of Midorima—“Are you serious?”—and the soft grumble of Murasakibara—“Shut up~” Seijuurou himself sighs and turns on his side.
He can’t sleep because of the loud snores.
Murasakibara somehow falls asleep without assistance, but Midorima pulls out his earplugs (why did he have those in the first place?) and soon falls asleep after he puts them in. Seijuurou is left awake and alone, wondering if Kuroko will be mad if he throws his two friends out the window.
At some indiscernible hour, the door creaks open, and Seijuurou, still very much alert, turns to the door to find out who or what is attempting to enter. A tuft of blue hair slips through the crack, and the rest of Kuroko’s head follows. His eyes bounce from the softly snoring Murasakibara, to the stoically sleeping Midorima, and finally land on Seijuurou, who has shifted to a sitting position. Kuroko’s eyes might soften, or it might be a trick of the light seeping in through the door.
“Ah, Akashi-kun,” Kuroko whispers, still not entering the room. “I thought someone might be kept up by my friends’ obnoxious snores. I apologize for them. Would you like to sleep in my room? You can’t really hear them from there.”
Seijuurou’s heart leaps into his throat. He can’t possibly be—no, no, get your head out of the gutter already, Seijuurou! He isn’t propositioning you, you idiot, he’s just offering you a quieter place to sleep. Despite that, Seijuurou can’t help the rush his, “Okay,” comes out in. Kuroko says nothing and instead turns around, heading back to his bedroom. Seijuurou trails after him with only a second of hesitation.
It doesn’t occur to him how odd it is that Kuroko is still awake.
Nothing transpires between Seijuurou and Kuroko, and the redhead doesn’t know if he’s disappointed or maybe a tiny bit relieved because he really didn’t want to do the do with six other people in the house. Kuroko is already awake by the time Seijuurou wakes up, which puzzles him until Kuroko bends down, still wearing his plaid blue pajama pants and loose white button-up, and says in a voice a tad cheerier than usual, “Merry Christmas, Akashi-kun.”
Akashi blinks up at him languidly. “Merry Christmas, Kuroko,” he remembers to reply, but he doesn’t quite function right until he has at least a little bit of coffee in him. Kuroko smiles, and, as if he was expecting this, hands Seijuurou a mug of hot coffee. He gives Seijuurou a handful of packets of cream and sugar along with a spoon, and then disappears into the bathroom for his morning routine. Seijuurou sits up in his futon, absentmindedly setting his coffee down on Kuroko’s nightstand and pouring sugar into it.
If this is what domestic life with Kuroko is like, he definitely wouldn’t mind waking up like this every morning. (He’d prefer to be in bed with Kuroko, really, but he wasn’t going to push his luck last night.)
By the time Seijuurou and Kuroko make it downstairs to where everyone else is (Kuroko forced him to wear a horribly gaudy green sweater with snowmen on it, but Kuroko says it’s a tradition to wear ugly Christmas sweaters on Christmas day in his house, so Seijuurou allowed it), everyone else is awake and bubbling with energy, and they greet them with a chorus of “Merry Christmas!” They say nothing of how they came down together, though Murasakibara and Midorima give Seijuurou strange looks, obviously having noticed his absence in their room. Seijuurou ignores them.
Kuroko is wearing a red sweater like yesterday, but instead of having jolly St. Nicks on it, it has reindeer and Christmas trees. Momoi is wearing a brown sweater with Santas on it, Aomine is wearing a dark blue sweater with dancing snowmen on it, Kagami is wearing a white sweater with sleighs and elves on it, Kise is wearing a bright yellow sweater with Christmas lights wrapping all around it (good god, it even lights up, why), Midorima is wearing a black sweater with an assortment of snowflakes on it, and finally Murasakibara has been somehow fitted into a purple sweater with Christmas cookies on it. How fitting.
Seijuurou is surprised to find Kuroko’s Christmas tradition a little (a lot) endearing.
(He’s so whipped.)
After they all have warm drinks in hand, they travel to Kuroko’s living room. The previous night, there had been a tall (fake) Christmas tree in the corner, lovingly decorated with handmade ornaments and store-bought ornaments alike, along with haphazard garlands and mismatched strings of lights, but there had not been many presents under the tree. The only ones seemed to be the ones that Kuroko’s friends brought along with a few others.
But, upon stepping into the living room this morning, Seijuurou finds that the Christmas tree has been engulfed by presents, much more than the previous night. Aomine and Kagami let out whoops as if they’re ten years old again, racing each other to the tree while laughing jovially. Momoi and Kise follow, looking at each other with playful smiles. Midorima and Murasakibara are just as confused as Seijuurou, but Kuroko maintains his poker face.
When Seijuurou suddenly realizes that Kuroko was up late last night, and probably not because of his friends’ snoring, he turns to the blue-haired man, but Kuroko merely glances at him out of the corner of his eye, winking subtly. Seijuurou stands there in stunned silence while Kuroko finally moves, waving the trio after him. “Come on. I’m sure Santa-san brought you presents too,” Kuroko says with an ever-so-slightly cheeky smile as he turns to face them while walking backwards.
They exchange dubious glances, but follow Kuroko to the tree. Seijuurou notes that Murasakibara and Midorima have their overnight bags in hand. Seijuurou does as well. Since they were spending the morning here, Seijuurou brought his friends’ presents, and Murasakibara and Midorima already had them on them, so. He supposes they’ll be exchanging while Kuroko and his friends open their presents.
Kuroko manages to squeeze into the midst of his friends, and he soon comes up with a quiet but triumphant, “Aha.” He turns and smiles sincerely at Midorima, holding the neatly-wrapped red present out to him. “Midorima-kun, you have a present from Santa-san.”
Midorima nearly chokes, his glasses falling down his face. “I do?” He asks, incredulously, one hand fumbling to fix his glasses while the other reaches for the present Kuroko is holding. Seijuurou peers over, curious as well. Well, well. The tag is indeed addressed to Midorima, and it’s from ‘Santa.’
The highly-skeptical Midorima slowly unwraps his present, and by the time he uncovers it, he’s gaping. “I…” Midorima trails off, at a loss for words. Even Seijuurou is surprised, and Murasakibara has just been standing there for the past few minutes.
‘Santa’ got Midorima the limited edition, only-five-copies-in-the-world figurine of a rainbow-colored Kerosuke. The luck in the object is at such a high potency that it’s rumored whoever owns it will be swimming in good fortune almost as soon as he or she buys/receives it. Midorima has been pining after the statue for months.
How in the world…?
Midorima doesn’t seem to know what to do, so he just drops to his knees and starts thanking every deity he can think of. Kuroko’s sapphire blue eyes twinkle with amusement, and he shares a secretive glance with Seijuurou, before returning to his friends, who are opening their presents and loudly voicing their opinions of each one.
But Kuroko couldn’t possibly have gotten that for Midorima… So does that mean…?
Of all things to happen, Seijuurou did not expect to question his position on whether or not Santa exists.
Seijuurou and his friends exchange presents after Midorima finally stops his gracious gushing. Seijuurou receives a new shogi board from Midorima, with blue and white pieces, the school colors of his old high school. Murasakibara gives him a whole assortment of new ties, because he knows Seijuurou likes his ties, and Seijuurou laughs when he opens them. Seijuurou gives Midorima an expensive lucky item (“not as good as the Kerosuke, though,” Seijuurou teases), and Murasakibara gives Midorima new frog design scrubs. Midorima grunts and tells him that he won’t wear them since he’s a doctor, but he appreciates them nonetheless. Finally, Seijuurou gives Murasakibara a recipe book he imported from France (with translation notes inside), and Midorima gifts the giant a set of new pans.
They’re all content with their gifts, but Kuroko drops by again and places a light blue present next to Murasakibara. He smiles slightly. “Santa-san got you a gift, too, Murasakibara-kun,” he proclaims, watching as Murasakibara lifts the package in interest. His, too, is addressed from Santa.
“Hm…” Murasakibara lazily tears away the pretty wrapping to reveal his present. In a twist of events, it’s not related to cooking, but it’s an autographed copy of a fantasy book by an author Murasakibara likes. “Ah?” Murasakibara is obviously surprised, but he soon smiles in contentment. “Thank you, Santa-san~” He says to no one in particular.
Kuroko watches the scene, satisfied, but Seijuurou still doesn’t understand. If Kuroko is ‘Santa,’ how did he get an autographed copy of that book and the rare Kerosuke stature? It doesn’t make any sense. Seijuurou’s fairly sure Kuroko is just an ordinary person.
(He should stop making assumptions.)
It’s still puzzling. Aomine gets a new pair of basketball shoes from ‘Santa,’ and according to his exclamation, they were only available for a short time and only once. Aomine was late to the event, so he didn’t get a pair of shoes, but here they are now.
Kagami gets a hard-to-find recipe book in English, and he says that it went out of print a long time ago, but his father had one and Kagami wanted a copy for himself. Momoi receives a beautiful pair of pink sapphire earrings she’s wanted for a long time, something that must cost a lot of money considering the quality and size of the gemstones. Kise gets a new laptop, the latest model of a popular brand, also something expensive. Kise says he’s wanted this laptop but hadn’t found a way to budget enough money for it. And Kuroko himself gets a large stuffed blue bunny, and while it may seem rather childish, Kuroko says, quite sincerely, that he used to have a stuffed toy like this in his adolescent years but it got too ratty so his parents threw it away. There is a nostalgic look in his eyes as he fiddles with the bunny’s large, floppy ears.
There’s really no way Kuroko could have bought all of these things, especially for Midorima and Murasakibara, who he’s only known for less than a day. Seijuurou isn’t saying Santa is real or anything, but…
He’s certainly wondering if the man in red could be real.
Kuroko actually does have gifts for them. “I’m sorry, but it’s not much,” Kuroko apologizes with the slightest hint of red dusting across pale cheekbones. Seijuurou is entranced by the sight, but he accepts his present from Kuroko with much curiosity.
Midorima’s present turns out to be a well-read book that is a mystery thriller surrounding the strange events of a string of deaths in a nightclub. Midorima is a bit surprised, but his thanks is sincere. Seijuurou knows he appreciates a good mystery every so often.
Murasakibara receives a bunch of papers stapled together, copied recipes of some of the giant’s favorite desserts of Kuroko’s. His violet eyes light up, and he affectionately pats Kuroko on the head. Kuroko is a little miffed by the head pat but lets it slide since it’s Christmas.
Seijuurou gets a beautiful pair of silver cufflinks with small wing designs on them, and when he looks up at Kuroko in surprise, the blue-haired man seems a little uncomfortable and a tad bashful. “I know Akashi-kun is a businessman, so I thought…” He trails off, and casts Akashi a tiny, awkward smile. “I have no need for them, but I bought them on a whim one day. If you don’t like it, I can take it back,” Kuroko offers, but he seems slightly disheartened by the prospect.
Seijuurou smiles reassuringly, looking much calmer on the outside than on the inside. Kuroko actually got him something. No, well, he just had it lying around, but still. He actually pays attention to what Seijuurou says and what he does. He really shouldn’t be inwardly jumping around like a schoolgirl, but he is, sadly.
(Terribly, terribly whipped.)
Finally, after there’s wrapping paper everywhere, Kuroko approaches Seijuurou with a box in hand. “From Santa-san,” he says with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes, and Seijuurou doesn’t doubt that this time as he glances at the tag. Indeed, it’s from Santa. He opens it carefully, and what the wrapping reveals surprises him.
It’s simply mistletoe.
Ah, this ‘Santa’ is really too good.
Kuroko seems puzzled by his present, casting him an odd look, but Seijuurou’s last thought before he risks everything is: if this is your way of confessing, Kuroko, it’s very unique. And if this isn’t your doing… I can live with that as long as it works out.
Seijuurou grins mischievously, a complete opposite to his tumultuous insides. He raises the mistletoe above their heads, raising an eyebrow expectantly, and ignores the wolf-whistles and cat-calls.
It’s kind of fascinating to watch a blush bloom across Kuroko’s face. Kuroko ducks his head and looks away from Seijuurou, embarrassed. “Ah, this isn’t what I…” Kuroko mumbles, helplessly. But he looks back to Seijuurou, who is steadily losing confidence (not that he wants to admit it), and he purses his lips. “Ah, alright—but just because it’s Christmas.”
And he leans forward and gently presses his lips to Seijuurou’s.
It’s indescribable. There are fireworks and the sense of something in his chest melting into a puddle of goo, and there are cheers and the very distinct smell of vanilla that he can smell now that he’s close to Kuroko. But the innocent kiss is definitely not enough for Seijuurou. When Kuroko pulls back, still blushing and maybe even pouting a little, Seijuurou really can’t put it off anymore. “I like you,” he states, clearly, a declaration of affection. There is most definitely not a bit of color staining his cheeks.
Kuroko’s eyes widen in surprise, but he soon covers his face, eyes shyly peeking out at him from behind his fingers. “I like you, too,” he whispers, and thank god, Seijuurou can breathe again. Seijuurou can’t help his wide smile, and Kuroko closes up some of his fingers over his eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not very good at this,” he confesses, softly, voice tinged with embarrassment.
Seijuurou can’t help but find his awkwardness cute, and he gently pries Kuroko’s hands from his face, revealing the blush still high in his cheekbones. Seijuurou’s hands slide down to Kuroko’s waist (the mistletoe was abandoned some time ago), pulling him in again. Kuroko lifts his chin a little, and Seijuurou happily steals another kiss from the man he’s pined after for so long.
When they separate, Seijuurou still isn’t satisfied, and he can’t help his cocky smirk, whispering, “Pardon my French,” against Kuroko’s lips. Kuroko’s sapphire blue eyes widen in alarm, but it’s already too late. Seijuurou skillfully pushes his mouth open, and he angles his head to get a better taste of Kuroko.
“Ew, gross! No making out while we open presents!” Aomine yells, throwing a pillow at them. Seijuurou pulls out of Kuroko’s mouth, briefly ignoring the flushed man to glare at Aomine. He knew he didn’t like him for a reason.
They’re not even opening presents anymore.
“I’ll definitely get you something nice later,” Seijuurou mumbles, bringing his head around to face Kuroko again. Kuroko’s cheeks are still flushed, but he huffs lightly.
“This is perfect,” he murmurs, and really, it’s a testament to how whipped Seijuurou is when he finds the cheesy statement perfect.
(Who is he kidding at this point?)
He’s fallen hopelessly in love with his neighbor.
Thankfully, said neighbor is there to catch him.