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To: Lini/@linipik From: Kaylin/@night-mare-skellington Rating: T Prompt: Road Trip AU Message: Hi, Lini! I'm so, so sorry this has taken me so long to get to you. And I'm also sorry that I took one of your prompts and ran with it. Really far. Like...seriously far. But, I hope you enjoy! Happy (albeit late) Kagakuro Exchange!

Kagami refused to believe that it had already been five days since he picked Kuroko up from LAX. There was no possible way they had already spent sunup to sundown at the beach, toured down Hollywood Boulevard, and taken impromptu selfies at every distinguishable landmark they had come across. Kuroko’s presence, no matter how ghostly, had just begun to seep into the corners and crevasses of Kagami’s apartment. It was too lovely, waking up to wild bedhead brushing against his chin. Cooking for two. Having someone to slip into the shower behind him and cling to his back as he washed city smog from his hair. A week was nowhere near enough. How could they have pretended that a week would have been enough time?

He understood that Kuroko had a life in Japan. A dog and a family and friends. But, as arrogant as it sounded, he was a part of Kuroko’s life too. A part cast five thousand miles away, surviving from visit to visit. Making things work through texts and video calls that always made one of them not get enough sleep. Kuroko had done a lot of that when he first arrived. He had slept for hours, curled up in the dip of Kagami’s mattress, engulfed in his duvet and scent. Kagami had watched him, enraptured, as the California sun had fallen across his face, alighting his paleness and eyelashes.

Much like it was doing now, as they both lounged on Kagami’s sofa in the most comfortable silence he could remember ever experiencing. And he was watching Kuroko just as intently as his gaze flicked over the map of star’s houses he had bought from a street vendor, too amused by the novelty to pass it up. And somewhere, in the study of the shape of Kuroko’s ear and the desperate longing in his chest, Kagami’s thoughts finally caught up with his mouth.

“Let’s go.”

Kuroko, understandably, gave him a confused sideways glance at the sudden outburst.

“…go where?”

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“Let’s just go. Let’s drive. Anywhere.”

Kuroko’s eyes narrowed, lifting up to the doorway where Kagami’s car waited outside, then back down at him, confusion doubling.

“Kagami-kun—“

“Let’s drive across the country. End to end. Where would you wanna go?”

There was a baffled huff of laughter, the map entirely forgotten by that point.

“My plane leaves in two days. You know that.”

“I’ll get you another ticket later. When we get back. Just another week. Maybe a few more days. I’ll get you back home.”

Kagami’s fingers had found Kuroko’s wrist, and were tightening increment by increment as Kuroko’s eyes deemed him more and more a mad man. He swallowed thickly.

“…I’ve waited for you. And now you’re here, and I’m not ready to let you go. I want to see you in different sunsets. On different streets. I want to see things with you that neither of us have ever seen. I don’t want this to be over. Not yet. Not here. Let’s go.”

There was a palpable silence as they both stared, searching, deciphering unspoken volumes through shades of blue and red. Kagami couldn’t blame him if he said no. It was too much to ask, too spontaneous. Drop everything and travel with me across a country where neither of us know where we’re going. We’ll eat shitty gas station food and sleep in shitty hotels and probably get lost more times than we can count. It’ll be great. You’ll have the time of your—

“New York.”

Kagami blinked and swallowed again.

“…what?”

“New York,” Kuroko repeated, slower. “I’ve always wanted to go to New York.”

“…seriously?”

The shorter boy laughed, effectively diffusing the tension. “Yes, seriously. Is New York not good enough for you?”

And then Kagami was grinning. And surging forward to kiss Kuroko with all the enthusiasm his pounding heart could muster. Another week. He had one more week to really make this summer count.

At around eleven the following morning, they had turned onto Las Vegas Boulevard, which was thankfully a lot less crowded and sinful than Kagami had expected during the day. The previous night had all been preparation. Kuroko phoning his parents to try and explain why he wouldn’t be on the flight to Japan the next day. How he wouldn’t be for a week, possibly longer. How they were both literally heading out into the unknown with nothing to guide them but their phone maps and the odd gas station along the way.

Kagami shouldn’t have been surprised that the same people who entrusted their son to him over five thousand miles away would have been perfectly fine with them taking a new adventure.

“They told me to take lots of pictures,” Kuroko had said from the doorway, Kagami glancing up from where he was stuffing his suitcase inelegantly. “And to have fun.”

“…well then now we have no other choice,” he reasoned, and Kuroko laughed, stooping low to get his duffle and leave it waiting by the door.

Now, it was packed in the trunk of Kagami’s car with a few odds and ends they had tossed in before pulling from the curb at seven that morning. And Kuroko was curled up in the corner of his seat, temple resting against the window, nestled deeply in his hoodie that he had pilfered from his bag at the last second, because if there was someone who could get chilly in the scalding desert summer, it was Kuroko.

True to his word, his camera lay in his lap, on top of his small leather journal that he seemed adamant on having in the car as well.

And although he was also adamant on staying awake for the first leg of the trip, he had fallen asleep ten minutes in, intolerance to early mornings catching up with him. Kagami didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to process. And steal a few glimpses of Kuroko’s lax face, lips parted with soft breaths, trusting and precious in a way that hurt Kagami’s heart.

He was glad Kuroko slept through Las Vegas. Kuroko was not a Las Vegas person. He would not look right, drowned in neon lights. Kuroko was softer light. Starlight. Moonlight. The glow of twilight. The flicking of an overhead light as their car doors were opened at seven that morning, when Kuroko had shook his bangs from his eyes to peer at Kagami from across the console, the tiniest of smiles dancing at the corners of his lips. Kagami asked him what was wrong, and he had said nothing. Merely shook his head, and continued staring, as though he knew a secret he was not keen on sharing. For a moment, Kagami thought he was supposed to kiss him, but when he leaned forward an increment Kuroko was already sitting and buckling himself in. Opening his journal to scribble down an impromptu line. Turning his smile onto the road ahead. He definitely knew something Kagami didn’t.

But as Nevada faded into Utah, and the backdrop of casinos gave way to distant rock formations, Kuroko eventually blinked himself awake and lifted his camera to snap two photos of said formations, wearing the same minuscule smile, and Kagami couldn’t bring himself to mind that Kuroko knew something that he didn’t.

“…what did you say this was called?”

Kuroko inspected the Styrofoam cup in his hand suspiciously, tilting it this way and that.

“It’s a float. A root beer float.”

The shorter boy’s nose wrinkled slightly.

“I don’t like root beer.”

Kagami made a show of rolling his eyes. “But it’s a float. It’s different. You can’t spend a summer in America without trying a float. Just one drink.”

Apprehensive look still glued in place, Kuroko hesitantly brought the straw to his mouth and took a long drag, lips smacking as he tasted. And tasted.

“How is it?”

Kuroko’s eyes shifted away inconspicuously as he tried to sneak another drink. Kagami grinned around his straw, leaning in closer. “You like it, don’t you?”

“…it’s not terrible.”

A long finger prodded against Kuroko’s ribs. “And you like it.”

He giggled in reply, playfully nudging the redhead with his elbow, and Kagami’s heart thrummed happily, and for a flash he wished they could have stayed in that moment for a bit longer. Almost. There was only a week left, and he had so much more he wanted to do. So much more he wanted to see with him.

“Come on. Let’s go find a hotel and get an early start tomorrow.”

Night had just settled over the far-off Colorado Mountains when Kagami opened the door to a hotel room that was a bit too chilly and smelled of cleaning products. He was sure the aforementioned boy would complain of the cold eventually. But first, Kuroko took it upon himself to plop down on the edge of the scratchy bed and pull up the maps they’d been using on his phone, thumbs tapping away as he planned and figured.

“There’s a few things I’d like to do before we leave Colorado, but it shouldn’t take up too much time. I’ll go ahead and save the directions in case something—“

Light blue eyes glanced up just as a mop of red hair crawled into his lap, Kagami’s imposing stature crowding him further and further until he had no choice but to fall back and blink up at him owlishly.

“Hello.”

Kagami’s grin couldn’t be contained.

“Hi.”

Those same blue eyes swept from eyebrow to ridiculous eyebrow, down over the crinkled bridge of his nose, across the stretch of his bottom lip.

“…you’re smiling a lot.”

He huffed a laugh.

“Yeah?”

“…you’re happy.”

The broad grin shrank into something more endeared. More tearful.

“Very,” he agreed, and closed the space between them, trying his damnedest to explain without words why having Kuroko with him on a cheap hotel bed in a middle of a town neither of them particularly wanted to be in was nearly making him cry.

He probably didn’t do a good job. His mouth kept getting distracted along the way, teeth tugging and tongue tasting, a deliriously slow tandem that had him sighing in bliss, fingers twisting lazily in the blanket. And he kept kissing him, until his body folded down alongside the smaller boy, Kuroko’s hands cupped his jaw, and they fell asleep, entangled, parted lips sharing hot breaths, the air conditioner humming beneath the window in the corner.

Denver was a bit more exciting than the tip of California and Nevada had been. There were surprisingly plenty of things Kuroko wanted to see there, and Kagami didn’t mind in the slightest. He just wanted his boyfriend there with him. He would have done anything Kuroko wanted, even that stupid Museum of Miniatures that had Kuroko in near hysterics when he found it on his phone that morning.

Kagami did, however, put his foot down when Kuroko mentioned the firefighter museum. (“Kagami-kun.” “No.” “It’ll be funny.” “I said no.” “At least let me take your picture in front of the sign.” “No.”)

But the faint pout subsided as they neared the Denver Museum of Nature & Science (there were too many damn museums in that town). And while Kagami didn’t really have a vast appreciation for how the world worked and what creatures inhabited it, he did have an appreciation for trailing along behind Kuroko as he grew increasingly animated, pointing at mummies and a chunk of gold called Tom’s Baby and some kind of dinosaur that started with a D that Kagami pretended to recognize but really only knew them as longnecks. And the dinosaur infatuation carried on after the museum, when Kuroko pointed them in the direction of Dinosaur Ridge, a pair of trails that traveled up sandstone hills alongside spans of dinosaur footprints pressed into the earth some 68 million years ago, according to the signs.

Kagami really didn’t pay attention to those. He was far too enraptured with how Kuroko’s blue eyes that matched the July sky lit up in fascination as he read over each sign and scanned each footprint, muttering about how huge they must have been, Kagami-kun, look at the size of them!

And when they reached the fossils embedded in stone walls that towered over their heads, and Kuroko’s delicate fingers reached out to trace their shape with what resembled reverence…well, Kagami was ashamed to say that for the first time in his life, he felt a spark of jealousy toward decrepit, sun bleached bones that hadn’t moved in centuries.

But then the blue-haired boy turned to make his way on down the path, instinctively seeking out Kagami’s hand to twine their fingers together, and the redhead smiled faintly to himself as he lumbered along behind.

“Hey! What are you doing?!”

“It’s four o’clock, Kagami-kun. You made the rule.”

Kagami whined loudly, slumping back against his headrest. How had an hour already passed? More importantly, why did the hour have to pass right in the middle of his favorite Creed song? He supposed it was worth it, though, when Kuroko unplugged his phone to hook up his own and that awful Indie music floated in through the speakers, all banjo and wailing voices. Hopefully the hour of that would pass just as quickly.

It was one of their few disagreements as a couple, their vastly different tastes in music. Whereas Kagami preferred mainstream rock that could be heard on the radio and hummed along to, Kuroko liked songs from artists Kagami had never even heard of, and had suspicions that he only found them through relatable videos on Youtube. An hour of suffering for an hour of Nickelback wasn’t too big of a price to pay.

But…it kinda wasn’t so bad, watching Kuroko curl up in his seat to hum along, raising his camera every so often to snap a photo of this and that. Kagami liked to imagine that if he could crack Kuroko’s ribcage open to take a listen, his soul would sound like Indie music. Soft and subtle, rough around the edges, minimalistic with deeper meaning. The mournful bray of a harmonica. The thrum of guitar strings. The way Kagami felt that one late evening overlooking the ocean when the sky was painted orange and the salty air tousled Kuroko’s hair. It had been so nice having Kuroko there, in his home, where he’d been a child. Under the same sun that made his skin golden and beat down on his back during endless days on the courts. He wished Kuroko could have known him back then.

As though sensing the sudden furrowing of his brows, Kuroko’s thumb glided across his phone’s screen and changed the song. A simple, shifting, 1-2-3 of notes, the rhythm perfect for halfhearted, late night dances in the kitchen, when both parties were too tired to do much more than rock from side to side, faces buried in chests and hair. A soft melody, with an even softer voice, a whispery English sort that made Kagami want to close his eyes and listen for a moment.

“If you’ll be my star, I’ll be your sky, you can hide underneath me and come out at night.”

Kagami’s eyes slid over curiously. Kuroko knew a decent amount of English, not really enough to hold a conversation, but enough to decipher signs and know what dishes to order at restaurants. But not enough to completely understand a love song by ear. Which led Kagami to think that he must have taken the time to translate the lyrics, to understand each word and its meaning, and find enough meaning in those to add it to his music collection.

The redhead smiled, surrendering to his hour of torture with grace, letting his hand drape inconspicuously over the gear shift. Kuroko wasted no time in tangling their fingers together.

“Alright,” Kagami started, closing his car door behind him and arranging the paper bag in his lap, “I want to go first. Because I definitely won.”

Kuroko arched a brow haughtily, but gestured toward the crumpled bag with an air of confidence that Kagami hoped was a bluff. He had spent nearly twenty minutes in the gift shop scouring each aisle for the perfect, perfect souvenir. At first, he was going to settle for a glaring pink t-shirt with a parrot printed on the front, which he considered a really odd find, since they were nowhere near a beach of any sort. But, on the way out of the shop, he instead found—

“A Shakespeare rubber duck,” he proclaimed proudly, holding said duck out in his palm, complete with a balding rubber head, a white ruff, and a tiny quill.

A smile danced in Kuroko’s eyes as he pretended to inspect the duck from all angles, humming on occasion, lips pursed.

“Not bad, Kagami-kun. Not bad at all. But…I see your Shakespeare rubber duck, and raise you,” he opened his own paper bag, holding out his prize, “one boobs ashtray.”

Sure enough, clutched in Kuroko’s hand was an ashtray made out of generously-sized breasts donning a skimpy blue and white striped bikini, as audacious as could be. And Kagami couldn’t decide whether to blush like a madman or grab Kuroko’s head and ask him what the hell he was thinking.

He settled for throwing his head back and cackling at the top of his lungs.

“Does that mean I win?” Kuroko asked slyly, and the redhead wiped at the tears gathering in the corners of his eyes with a nod.

“Yeah. Yeah, you definitely win. You shameless bastard.”

The Shakespeare duck was given a place of honor in the corner of the dashboard, and Kagami pulled out of the parking lot, stray chuckles bubbling through his grin.

“What are you gonna do with it?”

Kuroko pursed his lips again as he studied the breasts in question.

“…probably give it to Aomine-kun. He’ll enjoy it more than I will.”

Kagami got the giggles again.

It was automatically assumed that they would pass through Iowa without stopping at any attractions. Apart from the occasional potato farm and cow, Kagami didn’t think that the state was even really inhabited. But, leave it to Kuroko to scroll through his phone and find a nearby botanical garden that he was suddenly dying to go see, and Kagami was hesitant. Until Kuroko explained to him what a botanical garden was, and then he was really hesitant.

His iron will was no match for the devastation of Kuroko’s puppy eyes, however. And it wasn’t as though an hour out of their way was that much to make up. And Kuroko bouncing with excitement in his seat was kind of a little adorable…A little.

“I didn’t even know you liked flowers,” he admitted as they entered the dystopian-looking dome that housed countless plants, the humidity already dewing along his nape.

Kuroko looked at him with velvety eyes, camera poised to start snapping.

“Oh yes. Especially hydrangeas. They’re my favorite.”

Kagami made a hum of acknowledgement, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stood just over Kuroko’s shoulder, watching him crouch low to frame some intricately veined leaf.

“…what color do you like?”

The shutter snapped, Kuroko holding the camera out to study the image captured on the screen.

“White.”

“…why white?”

He shrugged.

“Everyone likes the bright colors. The blue and purple ones. Nobody ever really gives the white ones any attention. I think they’re just as beautiful.”

Kagami knew he was supposed to be observing the rare and lovely flora surrounding them. That was the point of all this. That’s what Kuroko was doing. But he was too caught up in staring at the lines of Kuroko’s profile, how his cheeks were dusting pink from the heat, how his nose would slightly scrunch in distaste when he took a bad photo. A delicate, pale thing lost in the explosion of greens and vibrant hues. He didn’t even know what his favorite flower was. He didn’t even know he liked flowers to begin with.

Kagami was running out of time to discover these things. They were already halfway through their journey. A bit of too-familiar sadness bloomed deep in the pit of his chest, and he forcefully swallowed it back. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it. They still had a few days left.

“Kagami-kun, I don’t think we should be doing this.”

The redhead rolled his eyes good naturedly, adjusting the towel draped over his shoulder.

“It’s just a pool, Kuroko. I didn’t think you’d be such a baby.”

“A closed pool,” Kuroko argued, eyeing the locked bit of white fence surrounding the water that was glowing a pastel green.

Kagami guessed the gate had been secured a couple of hours ago, when the sun had first gone down. But even though it’d been dark for a while, and Iowa wasn’t particularly known for being stifling, the air conditioning in their hotel room had done little against the heat that still stuck with them after the botanical garden. And they both had packed their swim trunks. It was only a logical leap.

“Kagami-kun,” Kuroko hissed under his breath as the taller gripped the top rail and launched himself over to the other side, a move he had perfected from a rowdy childhood with Himuro. “This is trespassing!”

Kagami leaned back over the rail on his elbows, cocking his hip.

“And what are they going to do? Call the police?”

Kuroko pouted.

“…maybe!”

“I doubt it. A police officer probably wouldn’t want to get the back of their cop car wet.”

The intimacy of Kuroko’s heated glare crackling with his brash smirk made chills arise along his shoulders. He chose to ignore them, instead holding his hands out over the railing, waving his fingers in invitation.

There was a moment of stubborn defiance, a silent battle, blue eyebrows knitted and a red eyebrow arched lazily. Then came the shift of Kuroko’s shoulders relaxing, a quiet sigh tousling his bangs as he took Kagami’s hands.

“If they catch us, I’m blaming you.”

“I’m sure they have bigger things to worry about than two teenagers sneaking into a pool,” Kagami assured him, lifting the boy up and over the fence

It was quiet outside. But not eerily quiet. The highway on the other side of the hotel rumbled with the occasional vehicle. The pool filter gurgled away as Kuroko slid one of the plastic chairs closer to the edge of the water, hanging his towel neatly over the back. Kagami, however, took no such luxury.

With a battle cry, he dashed headlong for the pool and leapt into the calm waters, sinking straight to the bottom, the familiar coldness and resistance enclosing him, tugging at his shoulders and legs, willing him to stay. But he pushed up and up, bursting through the surface with a jubilant inhale, shaking droplets from his face.

“Isn’t it cold?” Kuroko asked, and Kagami shook his head, swimming near the edge where the boy waited.

“Not too bad. Once you get used to it. You just have to jump in.”

Kuroko looked at him as though he’d lost his mind and crouched sideways, reaching out to skate his fingertips across the pool. That thin wrist looked too tempting.

Tanned fingers shot out from the depths, gripped bone and muscle, and Kuroko had just enough time to widen his eyes before Kagami jerked and pulled him in, stubbornness and all.

There was immediate chaos, Kuroko’s lithe limbs thrashing and flopping as he clawed his way up Kagami’s back like a rather pissed off cat, sputtering the whole way.

“Kaga—Ka—“

“You’re okay,” the redhead chuckled, securing Kuroko’s arms around his collarbones as he let the shorter boy gasp heavily in his ear. “I’ve got you.”

He could feel the heat from Kuroko’s glower against his jawline, and he can’t resist the urge to grin wider, even when Kuroko mumbled, “That was mean, Kagami-kun.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

A faint huff, a nuzzle beneath his ear. “You should be ashamed.”

Red eyes rolled fondly as he reached behind him, prying the boy from his back and bringing him around, so that slim legs that were stronger than they looked could wrap around his waist. And he could stare into Caribbean eyes shamelessly, and remember how less than a week ago they were in the same position a few steps off the coastline, the tide swirling about their hips, against the backdrop of a fiery sky Kuroko said he wished he could have taken a photo of. But he didn’t want to end the moment to get his camera from their bag on the beach. Didn’t want the moment to end at all, he’d said.

But darkness had fallen, as it always did, and they had to leave the sea. Darkness would always fall. It would now, as they played in its shadows, beneath its stars like two lovebirds wanting to find more constellations on each other’s skin than in the sky. It would fall in a handful of days, on their last night together, when Kagami would have to hold Kuroko’s frame close to his own and memorize what he felt like.

As the ghosts of despair entered his eyes, hands softer than twilight clasped his cheeks, a thumb colder than the water plucking at the droplets clinging to his bottom lip. And Kagami looked at him.

Glowing, incandescent, the light of the water playing off the paleness of his skin and the blue of his eyes, greens and ice mingling in a living watercolor that made Kagami’s breath hitch. Kuroko was the thing stupid fairytales were made of. Ethereal beings and magic. Timeless romance and sacrifice. A breathless kiss that broke the spell, sealed the deal, made the after happy.

He leaned in, as Kuroko curled his arms around his nape, and pressed his lips to the divot of Kuroko’s collarbone, tasting the chlorine that lingered there. Up the column of his throat. Around to lips that parted in welcome, and a hum that traveled all the way to Kagami’s backbone.

The water rippled around them for what seemed like hours, the sound of cars dying down as the time grew late. And he kissed him until Kuroko decided to pull away and rest his cheek on Kagami’s shoulder, letting the taller walk the pair of them around the pool, just because.

“…I know what I want to do in Chicago,” Kuroko said, and Kagami had to fake his enthusiasm, because how were they already at the border of Chicago?

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“I’d like to see the…The Bean? Is that what it’s called?”

Kagami laughed softly.

“Yeah, The Bean, that’s right.”

“And I’d like to walk down the pier with you. It’d remind me of California.”

Another twist deep inside himself.

“That’d be nice.”

Kuroko lightly pinched Kagami’s opposite ear between his thumb and forefinger, tracing the shape gingerly, something that he had picked up doing when he became absentminded and something Kagami positively adored.

“And they have an aquarium. You like aquariums. They have jellyfish there too.”

“You like jellyfish,” Kagami added, and Kuroko’s finger dropped to pluck at his earlobe.

“The one I want to go to the most is a photo gallery. It’s inside of a water tower—“

“Water tower?” he interrupted, arching a brow to himself.

“Mhm. The second oldest one in the country. And they hang up photographs from local artists. I think it would be neat to see.”

“Maybe you’ll find inspiration for your own pictures.”

He felt the lilt of Kuroko’s smile against his cheek, and the two carried on navigating the edge of the pool, talking about everything and nothing, until Kagami’s fingertips were pruned and the traffic had disappeared.

“We’re going to have to leave really early in the morning,” Kagami said over his shoulder, the coldness of their room seeping into his still-wet trunks. He shivered unpleasantly.

Behind him, lugging a bucket of ice, Kuroko stopped in his tracks and whined, an early morning the positively worst news he could have received.

“Hey, it’s your fault. You had to stop and look at the flowers for hours. And it’s not like you don’t sleep your life away in the car.”

There was an affronted huff, and Kagami smirked to himself, thinking that that was that. But that smirk transformed into a look of confusion as he felt fingers at his waistband, and a huge damn chunk of ice being slipped down the back of his shorts.

“Fuck!”

The next few moments were a blur of Kuroko’s laughter, the rattling of the bucket as it was placed on the floor in a hurry, and Kagami’s various yelps and shrieks as he hopped from leg to leg, shaking and wiggling until the melted ice finally fell out.

“Kuroko!”

The shorter boy had leapt onto the bed during the chaos, and was now brandishing a pillow for protection, mouth parted with nervous giggles.

“You little—“

The giggles amplified, Kuroko scurrying to the far edge of the bed as Kagami rounded the side. He could have crawled after him and caught him easily. They both knew that.

But he elected instead to swipe out with a single arm and knock Kuroko’s legs out from under him, the boy getting a few good whacks at the back of Kagami’s head before buckling down. There was a playful scuffle for the pillow, ending with it tossed toward the entryway, and Kuroko drew his elbows in against his sides and grinned as Kagami hovered, holding his weight off.

“I’ll get you back.”

A flash of something behind impossibly blue irises.

“I’m so scared.”

A dark chuckle, sharp teeth mouthing at Kuroko’s ear.

“…no art gallery.”

Kuroko gasped, swatting at his back.

“No!”

Kagami couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m gonna drive right by it.”

“Kagami-kun!”

Red eyes rolled happily before Kagami threw himself off and onto his side, wet trunks adhering to the covers.

“That’s what you get for being a little shit.”

The mattress dipped as Kuroko shifted, a pale arm wrapping over his waist, a cold chest pressed to his back.

“It was revenge for the pool.”

“Oh, come on. The pool wasn’t even that bad. The landing was soft.”

“It was cold. And wet.”

Kagami could hear the pout. And feel the dampness still lingering in both of their clothes.

“…fine. We’re even now. No more ice down pants, no more throwing you into pools.”

His back shook as Kuroko pressed his face there and laughed silently. And he almost smiled, until the hand brushing against his stomach moved up, capturing his fingers and bringing them up to his shoulder, where each print was kissed by soft lips.

“I love you…”

It was far from the first time Kuroko had uttered those words. Sighed those words. Meant those words. But Kagami still collected them. Plucked them from the air while they still rang with emotion. Locked them away in that dark place in his chest where he was lacking. Where he needed their glow.

“…this is all that matters.”

Kuroko’s fingers locked against his, and Kagami could feel the questions welling on the boy’s tongue as he tried his best to read him. But he didn’t want to be read this time. He wanted to articulate.

“Maybe not to you,” he continued, “probably not to you. But to me. This is all that matters. I need—“

He released an embarrassed breath, pressing his palm against his forehead with enough force to leave markings for later.

“…I know I talk too much. And I say stupid things. The wrong things. But you agreeing to do this with me…to be this with me…it’s all that matters. I’m not even sure really what that means. I know it doesn’t make sense. But it’s all I know.”

Well, there they were. His dumb words and confessions, out in the open, laid out for Kuroko to do with what he wished. Given all the time in the world to explain what Kuroko did for him, how he made him feel, would never be enough.

The silence was tangible, and Kagami was on the doorstep of regretting saying anything when Kuroko’s soft lips descended on his cheek, lingering there for a long, long time. And when they pulled away, his nose pressed to Kagami’s temple.

“You matter, Taiga.”

It was a possibility that for the entirety of his being and his life, that was the only thing he had ever needed to hear. Something, some beast, settled inside him. Licked its maw in submission. Kagami’s eyes fell shut, just to feel Kuroko hold him closer from behind. So he could feel his heartbeat, hear his blood, bony knees slipping perfectly into the arcs of his own. How was he ever going to sleep again after knowing this comfort?

He’d have to sleep as much as he could in the meantime, he decided, trying to convince himself that was why he was so rapidly drifting off, and not Kuroko’s fingers raking through his hair.

Davenport was sunny. So much so that Kuroko had (politely) stolen Kagami’s sunglasses from the console. He didn’t mind, really. In all honesty he’d forgotten they were there. And Kuroko looked good in Aviators, the frames loosely hanging around his eyes as he stared down at his lap, tapping away at his phone.

Kagami thought nothing of it. Probably just Kuroko updating his parents on their progress, telling them what he’d seen and what he’d done. About how quaint of a town Davenport was. What time he wasn’t spending staring at his phone was spent staring out his window, marveling. Pointing out architecture he found charming. And Kagami was glad that Kuroko was there to appreciate those little things, because if he were on his own, he would have been counting down the minutes until he was out of that town and on to something bigger. Not craning his neck in the windshield to spot a pigeon perched on the corner of a building four stories up, or laughing at a tiny boat in the river trying to keep up with its much larger counterparts, or agreeing that the Rock Island Bridge was indeed a very nice bridge. Very sturdy, very aesthetically pleasing. (Honestly, who has opinions on bridges of all things?)

Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted blue hair growing closer, Kuroko leaning against his shoulder, phone held out by the window. He turned as much as he could while driving, immediately frowning as he found his own face staring back at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Kise-kun wanted a picture.”

Kagami rolled his eyes.

“You’re taking too many pictures.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re in this one,” Kuroko retorted. “I want to show everyone what we were doing. I want to keep the memories.”

Kagami’s fingers tightened around the steering wheel.

“…you can have the memories without the pictures, Kuroko.”

“Yes. I can. But I want something to look back on.” He rolled his head to the side to peer up at the corner of Kagami’s nose. “Plus, I want to show off how good my boyfriend looks while driving.”

If Kagami noticed Kuroko snapping the picture with the crooked lilt of his grin, he didn’t say it.

He should have known that Kuroko insisting on resting against his shoulder for a bit would have turned into him sneakily falling asleep there. It had taken everything Kagami had to coax the boy out of bed and into the car that morning, Kuroko muttering about how he just needed a few more minutes all the while.

And it was odd, having Kuroko there without him really being there. The road had turned into an open stretch, so there weren’t that many streets and turns for Kagami to focus on. Whenever he saw something he thought Kuroko would find interesting, he had to remind himself not to point it out, to avoid waking him. At least he could play his music for longer than an hour. Even though he couldn’t really change songs without moving his arm, and had to suffer through about six minutes of trashy rock that he had added to his phone a long time ago, during a phase.

Inevitably, he had to slow for a turn, and his tongue peeked from the corner of his mouth as he focused all of his energy on reaching out as delicately as possible to flip the turn signal, and even more so to turn the wheel to the far left. Easy…easy…

“You don’t have to be so careful, Kagami-kun.”

Kagami most definitely did not jump like he was shot.

“H-how long have you been awake?!”

“…a while,” came the sheepish admission, and Kagami scowled, giving his shoulder a good shake.

“Then get back over on your side!”

Kuroko whined, burying his face in the redhead’s bicep and wrapping his arms around the inside of Kagami’s elbow in a tight squeeze.

Kagami was not a weak man. Adaptive. Scarred. A great powerful force, he liked to think. But not even he had the power to deny puppy eyes and pouts and nuzzles all paired together in one grand display of adorableness. No man was that strong.

“…fine. Just loosen up a little so I can turn.”

Compromise. Sometimes life, relationships, and snuggles were all about compromise.

If Tokyo hadn’t already captured Kuroko’s heart, the next place in line would have been Chicago, surely. His eyes hadn’t even widened that much the first time he drove through Los Angeles. Kagami kind of took offense to that. Just a little.

The first place Kuroko insisted on visiting was The Bean. And, while Kagami agreed that it looked pretty cool, and…well, shiny, he didn’t really get what the big deal was. It was a giant shiny bean in the middle of a city. Looking at it online would have saved them a bunch of time.

But Kuroko smiled up at it as though it were an old friend, raising his camera to snap a photo of his own reflection. Then he paused, moved a step closer toward Kagami, and stretched out his hand across their remaining distance. Kagami stared over at the offering, the tips of his ears already burning, but Kuroko wasn’t looking at him. He was looking ahead toward their reflection. Waiting. Patiently.

With a loud sigh, Kagami removed his hand from his pocket, and as their reflections joined fingers, Kuroko smiled and raised his camera to his eye with his free hand, capturing the moment forever.

The pier was a bit more interesting. The hustle and bustle right next to the lake water reminded him of home. A bit colder, less sunny home. Kuroko, however, didn’t seem to enjoy the vast crowds and lights. A lone finger wound its way into Kagami’s belt loop, keeping himself anchored to the redhead as they navigated seas of people, not really getting a chance to see much, and Kuroko lasted a total of around twenty minutes before he tugged them both to a stop, and pulled Kagami down to his height, asking if they could go to the aquarium yet. Kagami happily obliged.

Because if Kuroko had wide eyes at Chicago, it was nothing compared to the childlike wonder found there at its aquarium. Hopping from exhibit to exhibit so fast Kagami could barely keep up, Kuroko chattered freely about everything from the frogs to the otters to the belugas, and everything in between. But nothing held a candle to the way Kuroko froze in place at the sight of the enormous jellyfish exhibit. Every size, color, shape. Little fragile puffs of nothing, glowing just as Kuroko had in the pool, swimming from one side of their small round portal to the other. And Kuroko stood there, rooted in place, face nearly pressed to the glass, until Kagami reminded him of the photo gallery.

Even though he was a bit reluctant to leave his jellies, the photo gallery was arguably one of Kuroko’s top stops of their entire trip, and it wasn’t even over yet.

The space was small, and glaringly white, reflecting what little bit of daylight that was left. Few souls, most likely tourists as well, mingled from piece to piece, taking a moment to glance over the subject before moving on. But not Kuroko.

He’d lean in close at times, uncomfortably close, until his breath fogged the glass and Kagami feared they would be warned about not touching the art. He would stop, lean back, tilt his head this way and that, trying to wrap his mind around the entire photo or painting. And honestly, they didn’t look that great to Kagami. Like any old things you could pick up in mass production at a home decorating store.

But Kuroko saw the hands and eyes and ideas that went into every single work. He would gape, openly, at how someone caught the shadows that dwelled in the deep wrinkles of an elderly lady’s face just right. At how someone was lucky enough to be in the right place, at the right time, to snap a succession of a draw bridge breaking apart and rising to let a tiny boat pass on by. At how silhouettes of buildings against a sunset looked better than any photo of silhouettes at sunset that he could have taken, why did his silhouettes never look at good?

“I think all of your photos are good,” Kagami objected, bumping Kuroko with his hip. “You don’t think so because they’re yours. But you never know. Maybe someone looks at your pictures and gets as happy as you do looking at these. I bet Granny over there never thought that some guy from Japan would spend twenty minutes staring at her wrinkles talking about how beautiful they are.”

Kuroko laughed, airy and soft.

“…it’s just so fascinating. Seeing someone’s hometown through their own eyes. What they find important and beautiful.”

…Was that why Kagami had sneaked so many blurry photos with his phone of Kuroko in the California sunset? Standing idly at his kitchen counter, waiting for tea with his hip cocked, Kagami’s t-shirt loose on his back? His bedhead smeared across pillows that would be too empty for too long after he left? Was it all to keep Kuroko there in those spaces, at least in memory? Because Kuroko was something important and beautiful in a place he found important and beautiful?

“…come on. We’d better get going. This place is going to close soon.”

“Let me drive.”

Kagami started at the soft demand, drowsy eyes snapping open to focus on the road ahead, following his headlights. It had just hit one in the morning, according to the clock on his dashboard, and he could feel it in his bones. The heaviness of his spine.

“…no,” he croaked, daring to remove one hand to scrub vigorously at his face.

“You’re falling asleep.”

Okay, so maybe he was. And maybe it wasn’t the safest thing. But he was running out of time. They were running out of time. If they were to make it to New York and back in a week’s time, he’d have to book it. No more breaks.

“I’m fine.”

“I can drive—“

A sharp look from the redhead had Kuroko’s lips falling shut.

“This is America. A completely different country. You’ll get lost. And it’s dark. And I—“

His peripheral was filled with soft blue as Kuroko kissed his cheek.

“Please pull over at the next hotel so you can get some sleep.”

He wanted to refuse. New York was growing closer. If he drove through the night, they would have so much time. Kuroko would get to do so much more.

…But the thought of getting to curl up to Kuroko for one more night with permission to hold him and listen to his breathing was more than tempting. He wouldn’t get many more chances.

Forty minutes later, they had checked into some nondescript hotel and Kagami was resting on Kuroko’s chest, one hand curled lightly around his ribs, head bobbing and smile fuzzy as he listened to Kuroko ramble on about how he wished he could paint.

At first, it kinda weirded the both of them out how flat the state of Indiana was. No mountains, no hills. Just rolling fields for miles, stretching as far as the eye could see, interrupted by the occasional line of trees and house.

Nothing else. No real traffic, no overlapping streets. Kuroko had rolled his window down, and Kagami had followed suit, cranking up the banjo hell music mostly because there was no one around to tell them to turn it down. That was his favorite part about driving Kuroko around California. The wind tousling blue hair, the sun warming Kuroko’s legs and face, accelerator pushing a little higher. But California was far behind them now, almost clear on the other side of the country. So instead of cruising along the coastline, Kagami made a quick pit stop at a gas station and then found a random field to park them in, so they could sit on the hood watching clouds drift overhead and Kuroko could try throwing some of his peanuts into Kagami’s mouth. Luckily, Kagami was quick enough to jerk around just in the nick of time to catch the ones that veered too far off course.

And Kuroko had brought his journal out with him. He’d been jotting things down in it all morning, Kagami had noticed. It was the first time this whole journey that it hadn’t taken a back seat to the camera as Kuroko’s creative outlet.

Stretched out back against the windshield, chewing a piece of grass, Kagami watched the end of Kuroko’s pen bob and swoop, the journal resting protectively in the nook of Kuroko’s elbow. Apathy was never one of Kagami’s strong suits.

“What are you writing?”

It was an innocent question, but Kuroko froze, slowly closing the journal and clutching it to his chest.

“…nothing.”

Kagami couldn’t help but laugh.

“What, is it like a love note or something?”

The tips of Kuroko’s ears erupted in a blush of pink, and he cleared his throat, fingers tapping the cover in a quick succession.

“Not quite.”

Kagami mirrored Kuroko’s blush with an explosion of red across his cheekbones.

“…s-so it is about…me?”

A very, very specific spot on the car’s hood became interesting to blue eyes.

“…you inspired it. And about five other works I completed earlier,” he admitted in a mumble.

Kagami didn’t want to ask. He could already feel the mortification waiting to spring. But at the same time…When a soul as complex and intriguing as Kuroko Tetsuya says they used you as inspiration for writing…you have to know.

“What is it?”

Kuroko curled further in on himself, if only slightly.

“…you make me want to write poetry.”

Poetry? Kagami arched a brow, lip curling in confusion. He was dumb. Big and hulking with a matchstick temper and a mouth that had no problem with letting the world know of his anger. Poetry wasn’t about those things.

“About what?”

Kuroko’s face softened, eyes clouding with a dreamy look that harbored something sharp.

“Red things. Fire. The things love songs are about.”

Kagami’s cheeks heated dramatically, fingers tearing the bit of grass from clenched teeth.

“I-I’m none of that!”

Blue drifted over, as lazy and serene as the clouds sailing above, and Kuroko smiled.

“I think you are. You make all of my thoughts poetry. And I don’t do the words justice, but I do what I can.”

The redhead glanced down at the nondescript little book, curiosity gnawing away at him.

“So they’re love poems. Right?”

“…mostly.”

“Mostly?”

Teeth captured Kuroko’s bottom lip.

“…sometimes I look at you and sirens go off in my head.”

There was a funny little twist down in the pit of Kagami’s stomach, a place he didn’t even know existed until Kuroko had looked at him with dark eyes for the very first time. He knew. He knew, but he still had to ask. He was greedy that way.

“Why?”

Those same sweet lips parted, and Kagami found himself wanting to press his thumb over rows of sharp teeth, onto the softness of his tongue, just to feel how it tasted his fingerprint.

“Because…you can be so bad.”

A shudder claimed him from top to bottom, one that he played off by rocking upright and moving into a cross-legged position, ruffling his hand through his hair.

“Can I read one?”

Kuroko traced over the book’s spine.

“…I’ll send you one when I get back home.”

The relentless pounding of Kagami’s heart stopped instantaneously.

“Oh. Right. Home.”

Kuroko looked as sad as Kagami’s words sounded.

“It’s hard to believe another week has almost come and gone so quickly. But…I’m glad I got another week with you, Kagami-kun.” Cold fingers reached out to touch Kagami’s knuckles. “Thank you for giving me that.”

“I’m just amazed you wanted to be stuck in a car with me for so long,” Kagami laughed without humor. Kuroko knew. He always knew things like that.

Blue eyes turned to peer out across golden fields and sky, to a point on the horizon where the two met.

“…this won’t be our last summer, right?”

Kagami could have called him an idiot for thinking such a thing. He could have grabbed him roughly by the head, yelled in that thunderous volume only he seemed to have, try to physically erase that idea from Kuroko’s mind. Instead, he leaned back on his elbows.

“No way in hell.”

“I’ve been trying…through this whole trip to figure out how I’m going to mend two worlds together. How I’m going to cope with having a part of my heart in the West and another in the East. And I haven’t come up with any solutions. I know you’ve been doing the same.”

Kagami swallowed the lump in his throat and blinked harshly.

“Yeah.”

“I don’t want you to be burdened by me, and my distance. I can’t expect you to always be okay with phone calls and messaging. Trying to keep up with my schedule thousands of miles away. It’s too much, but I can’t let go, Kagami-kun. I’m too selfish, and—“

There was a crack in that somber tone, and Kagami didn’t have to look over to know that tears were welling in the corners of eyes the color of ice, and that Kuroko was struggling to keep from falling apart. Long fingers were tugging at Kuroko’s shoulder, pulling him back and arranging him along Kagami’s chest, where the tremors of repressed emotion traveled through the both of them.

“We’ll figure it out,” he promised, burying his nose in Kuroko’s hair. “But, whether it’s Japan, or California, or someplace we’ve never been, we’ll always have summers together. We’ll have oceans and ice cream and late nights looking at stars. Going on dates for a week straight. Squeezing months of kisses into a few days. We’ll always have summers.”

Kuroko’s shoulders tensed as he sniffled.

“…winters too?”

Kagami smiled sadly, giving Kuroko a squeeze.

“Now you’re just being ambitious.” A moment of thought. “Actually, fuck that, any winters will hereby be spent in California. Cold and snow sucks.”

“…I agree.”

He leaned over, brushing hair out of the way to press his lips to Kuroko’s temple, then his eyelid.

“I love you. You’re home for me. And when you’re gone, I get homesick. But I know I’ll see you again. I know you’re still there, across the world, even if I can’t sleep with you, or take you out for a spur of the moment date, or give you flowers. You’re real, and this is real, and that’s enough to get me through it.”

A small hand clasped his jawbone, stroking over his faint stubble.

“I always wonder, in the time in between, if you’re forgetting me. Everyone else forgets me. I’m like the wind, or a shadow, sort of there, but not really. I worry that you’re going to let go one day and not even realize that I’m gone.”

Kagami opened his mouth to tell Kuroko that was stupid, he could never in his entire life forget such an amazing, selfless, beautiful, kind person, but then Kuroko was tilting his head to look up at him with a compassion that Kagami didn’t deserve.

“But then I see you again, after all that time, and your eyes still light up. You still smile like you did after our first kiss. You fall into me, into our life together, like you never left. Your hands and lips still know exactly where to go. And then I remind myself that you’ll never forget me. No matter how big the oceans.”

If he attempted to speak, he would lose it. He was not ready to lose it in front of Kuroko yet. That was for another time, a time closer than he wanted, in an airport surrounded by strangers who would hopefully pay him no mind. But it hurt. It hurt in the most confusing, agonizing way. Inhaling deeply, he enveloped himself around the smaller boy, hiding from the world and focusing on the gentle fingers playing with his sleeve.

“Kuroko. Kuroko, wake up.”

The curled up mountain of hoodie in the passenger’s seat stirred, blue eyes rolling tiredly in their sockets to find Kagami. He grinned, nodding toward Kuroko’s window, and the eyes followed suit, widening comically at the looming skyscrapers rapidly approaching.

“…is that New York?”

Four days of travel. Hundreds upon hundreds of miles. Countless stops, laughs, and kisses in between.

“That’s New York.”

The city grew closer, buildings and people unfolding like a great popup book that Kagami had no interest in reading, but would spend a lifetime watching Kuroko scour its pages with that little smile he always wore when he read, hands alive on the pages.

Kagami felt excitement for this place. This was where Kuroko wanted to end up. Where he’d always wanted to visit. And Kagami wanted the awe in his eyes as he wandered down towering streets, peeking into enormous shop windows, snapping photographs of hot dog vendors and pigeons and taxi cabs. Their last stop before turning around and heading back to the other end of the country.

“So! What are you wanting to do first?” he asked cheerfully, turning down the music to hear Kuroko’s response. He was expecting a rambling list, bookshops and museums and landmarks.

“…nothing.”

Kagami almost slammed the brakes right in the middle of the road.

The sickness rising in his stomach was fast, and he knew what he meant, he knew what it all meant before he even asked. Mouth running dry, he whipped his head to the side, for just a split second. As long as he could manage without rear ending the car in front of him.

“Nothing?!”

He knew. He knew this was one of those things that Kuroko had been premeditating since they first backed out of his driveway in California roughly a week ago. A secret that he’d been battling with every leg of the journey. Something that was going to take a bit of time to understand, if ever, and they were quickly losing time. The city was growing closer by the second.

But, Kuroko had seemed to make up his mind. A picture of apologetic leisure, something that was hurting in its own way. The music was turned off completely.

“…I have loved this trip with you. I’ve loved seeing this country with you. In my head, I wanted it to last forever. But I knew it couldn’t. This would have to come to an end. Summer has to come to an end.”

There was a soft inhale, Kuroko’s gaze thrown out the windshield to the world opened up before them.

“If we stopped in New York…I would never want to leave. Because I know what leaving there would mean. That it would all be over. The magic, the adventure…it would be gone. I’d want to keep saying ‘One more day, Kagami-kun. Let’s stay one more day’. And I can’t do that. That’s selfish.”

It’s not selfish, Kagami wanted to say. I’ve been thinking the same thing. Are we both selfish? Or is it just love?

“…admitting that it’s the end would be too painful for me. I want to leave it open. So that there’s always New York. Always some place new that we can be heading toward.”

A small hand found his, and squeezed ferociously, shaking with controlled panic.

“Please don’t make me end this here, Kagami-kun."

He would be giving up precious days that they could have spent discovering new things. New spots and sights they could laugh back on later, when they recounted the trip and their favorite parts of it. New things they could have learned about each other. No sleeping in a new hotel bed while gazing out over the lights of a city that mirrored Los Angeles, but was nothing at all like the sort.

But was all of that worth seeing Kuroko’s impossibly blue eyes shatter at the end?

Biting his lip, throat turning into a watery thing that wouldn’t be able to talk for a handful of minutes, Kagami forced himself to look straight ahead as they passed the exit, and the city grew smaller and more distant behind them.

Eleven o’ clock had come and was well on its way to going when they stopped at a hole-in-the-wall diner in Pennsylvania. Hours had crept by, noon turning to evening and then to twilight, before night shrouded the lonely road. And barely a word had been spoken between them. Kagami hadn’t even asked if Kuroko was hungry. He had just needed a break, some time away from the purr of an engine taking him back to where he didn’t want either of them to be. California had planes that would take Kuroko back to Japan. They were safe here, in a small town with no red lights.

They sat in a booth across from each other, Kuroko sipping idly at a vanilla milkshake, eyes occasionally dropping down to Kagami’s pair of cheeseburgers with a worried tinge. He didn’t know if his stomach could take more. It was already twisting unpleasantly.

And it was so quiet. It wasn’t supposed to be quiet. They were supposed to be reminiscing, laughing and nostalgic for an adventure that was technically still happening.

“…I’m sorry, Kagami-kun.”

Startled, his eyes jumped across the table to lock with blue. Regretful, unsure blue.

“I ruined this for you.”

Kagami snorted derisively, suddenly interested in a half-filled saltshaker.

“You didn’t ruin anything for me. We got to do something most couples dream of doing. I got to see the country with you. I got to see you in different sunsets and on different streets. That’s what I asked for, wasn’t it?”

The words hurt, and Kuroko could tell they hurt.

“I wasn’t being facetious when I said that I didn’t want the magic to end.”

Red eyebrows knitted at him.

“Being what?”

“Facetious,” Kuroko repeated patiently. “Being funny in an inappropriate situation. I wasn’t trying to be funny. This whole thing…it’s been wild. And beautiful. Unforgettable. A lot like you, Kagami-kun.”

Heat touched his face, but he was too tired to acknowledge it. It had been all of those things. Like a movie, or the songs that Kuroko listened to every hour, humming along, eyes getting lost in the horizon.

“But…for now, right now, you’re California. That’s where you belong. That’s where your heart is. The sun seems to hit you just right there, and I can tell you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.”

Kagami opened his mouth to argue, but fingers, cold from a frosted glass, reached out to tangle with his own, squeezing in a resilient strength that still surprised him.

“And I’m Japan. I still have strings there. I still have things I have to do, doors I have to close, before I can think about opening more. But if there is one thing I am absolutely certain of, it’s that I have to open those doors with you, Kagami-kun.”

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t you fucking cry.

Kuroko smiled, one that tried so hard to be happy while dripping with melancholy.

“It’s painful. I know. Some days I just want to curl up in the dark and wait for tomorrow, because maybe tomorrow will be easier. But…you’re so bright, Kagami-kun. Your sunbursts reach me all the way across an ocean. You warm me without being there. I get a text, or a phone call, and for just a moment, you’re not distant. You’re laying right beside me in bed, teasing me about how I can’t sleep without tea. You’re there to kiss me good morning, and remind me to brush my teeth. You’re looking over my shoulder while I’m reading, trying to concentrate on both the words and what you’re saying. And it’s okay again. You’re real, and you love me, and that love lasts across distance. You’re so bright.”

Don’t cry, don’t fucking cry you big ass baby, Kagami scolded behind blurred vision and trembling lips.

He cleared his throat with a sharp cough.

“…I’ll keep being bright for you.”

Kuroko’s eyes shimmered, the corner of his mouth quivering, and Kagami guessed that he wasn’t the only one fighting himself.

“…I-I know our paths are separate right now. And the journey is scary, and too far to see. But one day they’ll cross. And we’ll never have to say goodbye again.”

A soft laugh was pressed from his throat, and he had to look down at the corner of lettuce peeking out from his burger.

“Goodbyes suck.”

A thumb rubbed his knuckles reassuringly.

“We don’t have to say it yet.”

That was true. There were still many miles back. Probably a few more stops Kuroko missed the first time around. Another night in Kagami’s bed, where greedy fingertips could touch and map and memorize. Goodbye was still far on the horizon. But it was coming. It was inevitable.

“...why don’t you come visit for Christmas?”

Kagami blinked.

“…Christmas?”

“Christmas. It’s a couple’s holiday, after all. My family would love to see you. And maybe I’m feeling ambitious.”

A slow grin stretched across his face, and Kagami blinked twice more before mirroring it with a shaky version of his own.

“You know I hate Japan in winter.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” Kuroko promised, sliding himself around the table and onto the seat beside the redhead, nuzzling up to the point of his shoulder.

Kagami rolled his eyes and plucked the cherry from the top of Kuroko’s shake, trying his best to pop it in his mouth while lovely hands grasped his wrist and pulled back, giggles echoing through the empty diner.

Indiana sunrises were arguably the most beautiful sunrises Kagami had ever seen. Soft pinks and oranges, fluffy clouds with gray around the edges, stretching over miles of golden fields and splashes of emerald. It wasn’t the edge of the world, on the coast with the ocean glittering like a billion diamonds. It wasn’t on the top of a mountain, with the sky at your fingertips and the chill of wind biting down your collar. It was somewhere in between, where the earth was low and the atmosphere high. It was where Kagami was. Somewhere in between.

Kuroko was asleep in the passenger’s seat. Had been for a few hours. Cheeks flushing from the gentle touch of sun, hair blown from his forehead by the air conditioner.

At around five, Kagami had stolen his phone and plugged in the aux cord, scrolling to a random song and turning down the volume, letting the essence of an old soul wash over his background. The music he would blare in a few days, when his apartment would be empty and he wanted to pretend that Kuroko’s presence still lingered around.

At around six, the tears and permeating sadness caught up with him, and he broke down. Tears fell freely, the wrenching twist in his chest finally loosening as it all flooded out, eyes burning and cheeks wet. He hadn’t cried like that in a long time. And the pain sort of dulled into something clearer. Realization that they had this. This memory, this love. Nothing was ever going to change this. Kuroko would be there. After the goodbyes, after the plane landed, after Kagami finally was able to sleep after a three-day insomnia streak. Kuroko would call, and say something that made him laugh, and he’d fall in love all over again. And want again.

But that was it. Saying goodbye always meant another chance to say hello. And hellos were the best part. Hellos were so, so great. Better than photos sent and good morning messages and confirmations for plane tickets. And one day, there would be a last hello, because they wouldn’t have to say it anymore.

That was what Kagami was waiting for. A last hello.

Long fingers reached over to curl lovingly along the jut of Kuroko’s hip.

A last hello at the end of a wild, harrowing, magnificent adventure.

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