Subtle Sweetness
I don't really celebrate Valentine's Day, but it gives me an excuse to write about some of my favorite ships, ergo, BOOM KUROKIYO. They're really underrated IMO, and nobody fucks with them as hard as I do sooo :)
Warnings?: None? Idk, they're gay, your honor
February 14th had always been just another day for Jin Kiyora, a fleeting moment in the calendar that held little significance for him. While the streets buzzed with excited chatter from girls weighing their options for the perfect chocolates and experimenting with countless hairstyles, Kiyora remained unfazed, immersed in his own world.
To him, the day was a mere backdrop to his thoughts about soccer practice, the thrill of the game, and the tactical discussions lingering in his mind. He was more preoccupied with the precise time practice would commence and where he would position himself on the borderline, determined to give his all in the sport he loved.
Upon entering Blue Lock, it was different. Gone were the lively chatter and laughter of girls gossiping about their crushes; instead, an almost eerie silence enveloped the space like a thick fog. The stillness was profound, invading his thoughts and leaving him feeling somewhat adrift. He couldn’t quite discern whether he appreciated the quiet or not.
Perhaps the familiar chaos of Valentine’s Day, with its relentless stream of social interactions and expectations, had woven itself into the fabric of his daily life, leaving him craving the very noise that now seemed absent. He’d encountered boys around his age, reminiscing about Valentines at their schools from before they came to Blue Lock.
But Kiyora couldn’t share their woeful sighs and dramatized agony for the sole reason that he didn’t care. At least not as much as they did. While other boys huddled at tables, talking about the pretty girls who’d given them all Valentines’ chocolates the previous year, Kiyora sat on his own, picking at his lunch.
As the dramatic complaints continued to permeate the air within Blue Lock, Kiyora found his thoughts drifting back to the soccer field - his true sanctuary. The weight of the Valentine's Day atmosphere seemed to lift as he envisioned the rush of adrenaline that accompanied each match, the camaraderie of his teammates, and the pure exhilaration of scoring a goal.
He glanced around the cafeteria, taking in the melancholic expressions on his fellow players’ faces. Their longing for the normalcy of school life and the traditions associated with Valentine's Day struck him as somewhat foreign. In his mind, the pursuit of becoming the world's best striker far outweighed any desire for romantic gestures or social validation.
Fork hanging from between his lips, Kiyora’s eyes followed one of his teammates, watching him closely as he scanned the cafeteria. Curiosity plagued Kiyora as he thinned his eyes out into a slight glare, watching them. Kiyora's curiosity only grew as he continued to watch them.
Part of him wanted to approach his teammate and ask what had caught his attention, but another part hesitated. Engaging in such trivial matters felt beneath him. He was impartial to such things; it was pointless if it didn’t benefit him.
Kiyora’s boredom settled over him like a heavy fog. He absentmindedly poked at the few remnants of food on his nearly empty tray, his gaze drifting as he contemplated the unappetizing meal.
The sound of a chair scraping against the tiled floor broke through his reverie, pulling his attention away from the mundane. With a slow, languid movement, Kiyora lifted his head, his expression one of indifference mixed with mild curiosity, as he awaited the arrival of whoever had disturbed his solitude.
“Sit? Here, here?” Ranze Kurona questioned as if he hadn’t already settled into the chair across from Kiyora. The gleam of the overhead light caught the glint in Ranze’s eyes, making his eagerness shine even brighter. Kiyora blinked slowly, his bored demeanor unchanged as he assessed the animated figure before him.
The corners of his mouth barely twitched, betraying little of his thoughts as he lifted the shiny fork from his plate. With a soft clink, he placed it back on the tray, the sound momentarily breaking the thick tension in the air between them.
"Kay," he replied flatly, his voice lacking warmth or enthusiasm. Kiyora lazily propped his head against his palm, the weight of indifference hanging heavily in the air. "What do you want, Kurona?" he asked, his tone betraying a certain weariness.
Kurona shifted nervously under Kiyora's unfazed gaze, a faint blush creeping across his cheeks as he felt the intensity of attention. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he cleared his throat, attempting to find the right words to bridge the gap between them.
“Want to train…with you, with you,” Kurona commented, fingers drumming slightly against the cafeteria tables. Kiyora arched an eyebrow slightly at Kurona's suggestion, his expression still largely impassive. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest as he considered the proposal.
"Train together? Huh." Kiyora's voice wavered with uncertainty, his brow furrowing slightly as he spoke. He pulled the collar of his Blue Lock sweatshirt closer to his face as if seeking refuge in its familiar fabric.
"Why would you want to do that, Kurona? You’ve never actually seen me play before... It’s not like you have any idea what my skill level is." The hesitance in his words hung in the air, a mix of curiosity and doubt etched across his features.
“There’s more to you than your skill,” Kurona commented. The compliment lingered like the scent of blooming flowers on a gentle breeze, catching Kiyora off guard. He felt heat flood to his cheeks, creeping up the back of his neck as if the warmth of a summer sun had suddenly descended upon him. Desperate to shield himself from the intensity of Kurona’s gaze, he quickly averted his eyes, striving to conceal the profound effect those words had on him.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Kiyora muttered, his voice low and gravelly, betraying the fluster rising within him. He nervously toyed with the frayed hem of his Blue Lock sweatshirt, feeling the fabric rub against his fingers as he attempted to ground himself. A strange warmth spread through him, at odds with the chill that lingered in the bustling cafeteria's air, where laughter and chatter echoed around him.
A heavy silence hung between them, thick enough to feel. Then, as if breaking an unspoken barrier, Kurona’s hand gently settled on top of Kiyora’s, which lay motionless on the worn surface of the cafeteria table. The warmth of Kurona’s touch surged through him like a spark, sending electrifying jolts racing up Kiyora’s arm and causing his fingers to twitch involuntarily, like a marionette responding to the tug of its strings.
“Just…I see you…not your skill, skill…” Kurona admitted shyly, lifting a hand to fiddle with the braid in his hair. Kiyora's breath hitched almost imperceptibly at Kurona's tender admission, his dark eyes widening a fraction. The simple act of Kurona fiddling with his braid, a gesture so achingly endearing, sent Kiyora's heart racing in a way no game ever had.
"I... I don't know what to say," Kiyora murmured, his usually confident demeanor cracking to reveal the vulnerable young man beneath. His tongue darted out to wet his suddenly dry lips, drawing Kurona's gaze like a magnet.
Kiyora's hand, still trapped beneath Kurona's, twitched again, this time curling slightly to anchor itself to that lifeline of connection. The air between them fairly crackled with tension, heavy with unspoken possibilities. "Why me, Kurona?"
Kurona smiled faintly, pulling his hand back briefly before snaking it to interlock fingers with Kiyora’s, giving it a soft squeeze. As Kurona's fingers intertwined with Kiyora's, the simple gesture was somehow more intimate than any kiss. He brought their joined hands up, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Kiyora's knuckles, his eyes never leaving Kiyora's face.
“Why not? Why not?” The simple words made Kiyora’s heart jump to his throat; a shiver ran down his spine at the implication. Kurona's warm and inviting eyes held his gaze steadily, filled with a quiet confidence that belied the shyness of his earlier admission.
Kurona's thumb traced lazy patterns on the back of Kiyora's hand as he spoke, his voice low and intimate. As Kurona pulled his hand away, he reached onto his lap, placing a small container onto the table before pushing it towards Kiyora.
“What’s this?” Kiyora questioned, raising his brow and reaching out to pull the container closer to open it. Inside sat messily made candies…Kiyora’s favorite candies…grape candies. Kurona watched intently as Kiyora opened the container, a hopeful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
“Sticky…Sticky,” Kurona hummed, clapping his hands together slightly as if to show that his hands were still barely sticking together. “But…your favorite…right, right?” Kiyora's eyes widened slightly as he recognized the contents of the container, a flicker of surprise and pleasure crossing his usually stoic features. He reached in, plucking out one of the sticky, misshapen candies and holding it up to examine it more closely.
"You made these... for me?" Kiyora's voice was soft, almost disbelieving. He popped the candy into his mouth, his eyes fluttering closed briefly as the familiar, beloved taste exploded on his tongue. When he opened them again, they shone with a warmth that had nothing to do with the sweet treat.
"Kurona, these are... thank you." The words were simple, but they carried a wealth of emotion. Kiyora set the container aside, then reached out to retake Kurona's hand, interlacing their fingers tightly. Kurona's heart swelled with joy at Kiyora's heartfelt thanks, his fingers tightening around Kiyora's hand in return.
“Happy Valentine's Day…Jin…” The words were soft from Kurona’s lips, only audible to Kiyora’s ears, but they made his heart soar. Kiyora's breath caught in his throat at Kurona's softly spoken words, a wave of warmth flooding through him that had nothing to do with the lingering sweetness of the candy. His grip on Kurona's hand tightened reflexively as if afraid the moment might slip away like sand through his fingers.
“Happy….Valentines day…Ranze”
















