Ship: Taiga/Alex Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED Word Count: 530
***
The Bulls don’t come to LA until the end of February Taiga’s first season, after the all star break (which he’d ended up spending nearly all of in Florida), and he almost cries it’s so good to be home. He takes a left, excusing himself from the team (there’s one other guy who had been traded from the Lakers early in the season, catching sight of his wife and teenage son and launching off). He’d texted Alex when he was going to get in, and then—there—he sees her. She hasn’t seen him yet, peering around, and they've talked and she’d come out to visit before but Taiga suddenly feels a longing, like the longing to be back here (like the beginning of the season, like when he’d first gotten to Tokyo) only different.
She drives him to three different In-n-outs, anticipating what he wants before he asks, running down the gas in her car and filling it up at a crowded station but hearing people shout at each other, seeing traffic as a mass of inching cars, feels so fucking good, and he almost cries again as he shoves animal style fries into his mouth.
“You want a shake?” says Alex.
Taiga nods, and she takes him to a fourth In-n-out. This time, she pulls over to parallel park on the street and they eat together, passing the neapolitan shake back and forth between sips of the Sprite they have left over from the visit before. This time, Taiga realizes he just might be a little bit in love with Alex, as impossible as it is, as long as they’ve known each other and as much as she’s been like a much-older sister, the fact that he’s nineteen and she’s in her mid-thirties right now, that she’s bought him thousands of dollars worth of fast food over the years, probably, and he’s the one making the money now but has yet to really return the favor.
“Next time, my treat,” Taiga says.
“I’ll hold you to that,” says Alex.
*
It comes and goes; Taiga’s convinced he doesn’t love Alex like that, that it’s just a blur of emotions, homesickness and being pitched forward into adulthood, but it’s not, really. It’s like he’s bridged across a barrier, because Alex had once played pro ball, too, a different league in different circumstances, but the long logged miles are the same and the ache and exhaustion are the same and the homesickness is the same, too. It's been building up for years where he couldn’t see it, and only now is it becoming visible, real, a volcano lurking below the ground and bursting forth.
It’s still five years before they’re sitting in the parking lot of a Red Robin, having found the bottom of bottomless steak fries (even considering all the burgers they’d ordered) and strawberry lemonade, neither of them really ready to start driving, when Taiga leans over to kiss Alex, short and simple and clear. Not overdue, but he’s been waiting.
“I’ll take you out for dessert,” Taiga says.
“Get me ice cream,” says Alex, her fingers twining in Taiga's on the console.
FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 530
***
The Bulls don’t come to LA until the end of February Taiga’s first season, after the all star break (which he’d ended up spending nearly all of in Florida), and he almost cries it’s so good to be home. He takes a left, excusing himself from the team (there’s one other guy who had been traded from the Lakers early in the season, catching sight of his wife and teenage son and launching off). He’d texted Alex when he was going to get in, and then—there—he sees her. She hasn’t seen him yet, peering around, and they've talked and she’d come out to visit before but Taiga suddenly feels a longing, like the longing to be back here (like the beginning of the season, like when he’d first gotten to Tokyo) only different.
She drives him to three different In-n-outs, anticipating what he wants before he asks, running down the gas in her car and filling it up at a crowded station but hearing people shout at each other, seeing traffic as a mass of inching cars, feels so fucking good, and he almost cries again as he shoves animal style fries into his mouth.
“You want a shake?” says Alex.
Taiga nods, and she takes him to a fourth In-n-out. This time, she pulls over to parallel park on the street and they eat together, passing the neapolitan shake back and forth between sips of the Sprite they have left over from the visit before. This time, Taiga realizes he just might be a little bit in love with Alex, as impossible as it is, as long as they’ve known each other and as much as she’s been like a much-older sister, the fact that he’s nineteen and she’s in her mid-thirties right now, that she’s bought him thousands of dollars worth of fast food over the years, probably, and he’s the one making the money now but has yet to really return the favor.
“Next time, my treat,” Taiga says.
“I’ll hold you to that,” says Alex.
*
It comes and goes; Taiga’s convinced he doesn’t love Alex like that, that it’s just a blur of emotions, homesickness and being pitched forward into adulthood, but it’s not, really. It’s like he’s bridged across a barrier, because Alex had once played pro ball, too, a different league in different circumstances, but the long logged miles are the same and the ache and exhaustion are the same and the homesickness is the same, too. It's been building up for years where he couldn’t see it, and only now is it becoming visible, real, a volcano lurking below the ground and bursting forth.
It’s still five years before they’re sitting in the parking lot of a Red Robin, having found the bottom of bottomless steak fries (even considering all the burgers they’d ordered) and strawberry lemonade, neither of them really ready to start driving, when Taiga leans over to kiss Alex, short and simple and clear. Not overdue, but he’s been waiting.
“I’ll take you out for dessert,” Taiga says.
“Get me ice cream,” says Alex, her fingers twining in Taiga's on the console.