Ship: Aomine/Kagami Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED Word Count: 402
***
They fight about stupid shit sometimes. Kagami’s not even sure what it was this time that had set off the stupid chain reaction, but there’s no immediate importance to it, only that it had happened and now they’re here, on opposite sides of a divide existing as clearly between their minds as it does physically. And they’re both still mad; Kagami’s mostly mad at how Aomine had juts fucking stormed out like that, but it’s not as if they would have somehow figured out how to solve all of their issues if he’d stayed behind. Kagami can wait it out, wait for him to come back; he’s got patience. It just might not be enough to deal with Aomine’s stubbornness (somehow it never is; it’s as if Aomine delights in pushing his limits in that, too, and maybe he does).
Kagami sighs; there are only a few places where Aomine could have gone and if he’s going to have to go after him at least he knows where to look. He shoves on his sneakers, grabs his keys, and locks the door to his apartment behind him as he goes. It’s cold, but Aomine had taken the sweatshirt on the coat rack (he can’t be too mad if he’s still wearing that); Kagami walks to the park quickly, checks the basketball courts and finds nothing. He turns to look at the vending machines, and there’s Aomine in that grey sweatshirt. Kagami shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. Aomine sees him as he’s coming over, jerking his head towards an unoccupied bench. When Kagami gets close enough he sees Aomine’s got two cans of coffee, one held out.
“That for me?” says Kagami.
“No, I want to be up all night,” says Aomine, rolling his eyes.
Kagami scowls but takes the can, opening it as they sit. “Thanks.”
Aomine nods. His posture’s loose, legs slightly spread, free hand open, slouching against the back of the bench. It’s a casualness that may once have been forced, but he’s so used to it now his body remembers without him trying.
“I said some dumb shit,” says Aomine. “I was an ass, and running away didn’t help.”
Kagami shrugs. “We needed space. Maybe that wasn’t the best way of going about it, but.”
FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 402
***
They fight about stupid shit sometimes. Kagami’s not even sure what it was this time that had set off the stupid chain reaction, but there’s no immediate importance to it, only that it had happened and now they’re here, on opposite sides of a divide existing as clearly between their minds as it does physically. And they’re both still mad; Kagami’s mostly mad at how Aomine had juts fucking stormed out like that, but it’s not as if they would have somehow figured out how to solve all of their issues if he’d stayed behind. Kagami can wait it out, wait for him to come back; he’s got patience. It just might not be enough to deal with Aomine’s stubbornness (somehow it never is; it’s as if Aomine delights in pushing his limits in that, too, and maybe he does).
Kagami sighs; there are only a few places where Aomine could have gone and if he’s going to have to go after him at least he knows where to look. He shoves on his sneakers, grabs his keys, and locks the door to his apartment behind him as he goes. It’s cold, but Aomine had taken the sweatshirt on the coat rack (he can’t be too mad if he’s still wearing that); Kagami walks to the park quickly, checks the basketball courts and finds nothing. He turns to look at the vending machines, and there’s Aomine in that grey sweatshirt. Kagami shoves his hands deeper into his pockets. Aomine sees him as he’s coming over, jerking his head towards an unoccupied bench. When Kagami gets close enough he sees Aomine’s got two cans of coffee, one held out.
“That for me?” says Kagami.
“No, I want to be up all night,” says Aomine, rolling his eyes.
Kagami scowls but takes the can, opening it as they sit. “Thanks.”
Aomine nods. His posture’s loose, legs slightly spread, free hand open, slouching against the back of the bench. It’s a casualness that may once have been forced, but he’s so used to it now his body remembers without him trying.
“I said some dumb shit,” says Aomine. “I was an ass, and running away didn’t help.”
Kagami shrugs. “We needed space. Maybe that wasn’t the best way of going about it, but.”
“I wasn’t done,” says Aomine. “I’m sorry, okay?”
Kagami grins. “Me, too. Also for interrupting.”
“It’s all good.” Aomine waves his hand.