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Three days in a row now this had been happening. Kuroko sighed and rubbed tired eyes while he slowly climbed the long wooden staircase leading up to the second floor. Turning left then right had him standing in front of the entrance to his bedroom, mug of steaming hot tea in one hand and a worn book in the other. The hallway was only dimly lit so he could just make out the foot of his small bed but it wouldn’t have mattered either way. Kuroko closed his eyes and felt the beginnings of another sigh rise up from his throat.
“Four days...” He muttered. A quick glance at the closet confirmed his suspicions. Really now...today was turning out to be one of those days again. First it was that guy down at the warehouse and now this.
God, it reeked. Aomine hadn't bothered with a quick spray of air freshener or even a candle. Kuroko could imagine the spot that the scent emanated from--the back of Aomine’s jacket from before he’d spun around to catch the body, Kuroko’s kill. Placing his tea on the vanity beside their bed, Kuroko silently marked the page he’d left off on and released one more breath of resignation. Showtime.
Treading back to the area just outside the door of their bedroom, Kuroko stepped loudly into the room, ensuring the sound would carry all the way to the closet. Sure enough, as Kuroko stood facing their bed, back to their very not suspicious closet with the very not obvious scent of blood--and really, Aomine, five seconds?--Kuroko’s extremely stupid boyfriend burst from the space, knife flashing in his raised hand.
In one fluid movement, Kuroko fell to the bed (just after Aomine made contact with his body) and twisted just enough for the knife to slice into their no longer lovely sheets rather than Kuroko’s rather tired body. “Daiki. You scared me. Mind telling me why you were in the closet?”
“Wha--Tetsu, you're not hurt?” Aomine asked, searching Kuroko’s body for any nicks.
How touching and concerned you are, my dear boyfriend. Feigning confusion, Kuroko paused a bit, brows scrunched in thought. “No, I'm alright. Your surprise startled me, but you tackled me to the bed so I'm okay.” Ever the innocent boyfriend, Kuroko cocked his head in inquiry. “Why?”
“Oh, uh, just making sure I didn't crush you! I just meant to scare you a little. Didn't mean to hurt you, Tetsu,” Aomine lied--very poorly.
We really must work on your poker face, Daiki. “Well, I assure you, I'm unharmed. But it's late, Daiki. You should come to bed.” Kuroko’s lips twitched as he added, “I'll wait up for you.”
As though a switch was flipped, Aomine lit up, grinning at the promise. “Be right back.”
Kuroko nodded, tracking Aomine’s stained back--he’d have to remember to clean their closet of any blood--out the door of their bedroom. With a reluctantly endearing smile, Kuroko lightly searched the folds of their bedding for the forgotten knife and stowed it for return to the kitchen tomorrow. He surveyed the damage to their bed, but deemed it negligible for the night. They wouldn't be sleeping much anyway.
Nothing like a little attempted murder to get you into the mood.