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There had been something magical in the way the snowflakes floated through the grey sky and gently touched the ground, as if they had no real rush in this life. Now that Takao watched through the bus’ foggy window how the Christmas lights and decorations were tangled to street lamps and on top of shops, he loathed it from the bottom of his heart. The little children running by were certainly in a festive mood, but Takao counted the days when the holiday would be over. Once he, too, had worn the brightest grin on his lips under the twinkling fairy lights that competed with the stars, but he didn’t want to talk about such times anymore.
His fingers were squeezed gently, lovingly, and then entangled together to another hand. Trembling fingertips stroked his bony knuckles, but Takao kept his gaze tightly fixed on the passing scenery and the children that dashed beside the bus and resembled tiny elves. He pressed his forehead against the chilly window and closed his eyes, felt the painful rattling of the bus right on his skin. Few more days, and he could be free of the aching that took his whole body as its victim. Few more days he would have to endure.
“We need to remember to buy Takao-kun’s mother a present,” Kuroko murmured right next to Takao’s ear.
Takao hummed and barely registered the words. His shoulders slumped. He squeezed Kuroko’s fingers to let him know that he had heard – most likely – to avoid the other man from bugging him further about it. The hand in his felt warm and familiar, but it still made his stomach nip with unease. His brows arched higher as he leaned better against the window and watched the pink-hued lights hung over the street. Snow piled on both sides of the bus, and Takao thought that there was at least one thing right about the season – it was a white one.
“Takao-kun?” asked Kuroko quietly and pressed his cheek against Takao’s shoulder.
“Yeah, a present for my mom,” Takao absent-mindedly said and finally tore his gaze away from the winter wonderland. He mustered half a smile on his lips and kissed Kuroko’s forehead, and made the other man seemingly happy. With ease he pulled Kuroko’s hand closer and settled it on his thigh, stroked the gentle fingers and kissed the blue hairline again. “Did you have something in mind?”
Kuroko looked troubled. “Maybe another kitchen appliance from the same set we bought her last year?”
“Oh, yeah… A blender or something.” Takao’s lips pursed to a quick pout, but his expression smoothened as he gave yet another kiss on the soft, inviting forehead of his better half. Although an old lady stared at him across the bus for doing so, he cared none and buried his nose to the light blue hair. Kuroko had changed his shampoo, he could tell from the delicate scent of exotic fruits. Takao heaved out a shallow sigh and let his eyes slip close. For the moment the world spun just right, and his heart felt light.
After many minutes and several bumps on the road Takao peeled himself away from Kuroko and shuddered as cold shivers invaded his body. He held the other close to himself and, although regretting it immediately, fixed his gaze back on the window. The fluffy flakes had calmed down, they surely weren’t as aggressive anymore as they had been in the morning; their porch had been unusable. A hum escaped him, and warmth spread to his stomach when he felt Kuroko lean his head back to his shoulder. Perhaps it was the festive feeling surrounding everything that made Kuroko like this, rather touchy-feely and more intimacy-seeking than usually, but Takao didn’t mind. It might have been the only thing that actually kept him sane through the days.
A block of children ran past the bus again but when they had all dashed to separate directions, a man stood in front of a shop. Even with his tired eyes Takao couldn’t help but spot the shine of green hair that had once snuggled just as close as the blue ones did at the precise moment. A breath got stuck in his throat. The bus slowed down and stopped to the traffic lights, stood still right in front of the shop. Takao pressed his free hand against the window and felt its surface prickle on his fingertips. He was worried that he was seeing mirages due to the unfortunate season, no, that was Midorima, he was sure of it once he caught a glimpse of the sharp profile and familiar glasses. His heart jumped to his throat.
“Shin-chan,” he murmured under his breath.
Of course the man didn’t hear him.
His breaths hitched higher, grew desperate. His legs twitched, and he was ready to jump out of his seat and brush Kuroko away. Without thinking, Takao banged the window and gathered everyone’s gazes around him. He shouted, “Shin-chan! Shin-chan!”
“Takao-kun?” asked Kuroko.
“Midorima’s there!” Takao shouted and stared at the man’s lean figure even harder than before. It was Midorima, it was his Shin-chan who hadn’t changed a single drop in the last few years. His palms sweated as he tried to capture Midorima’s attention through the glass. He didn’t succeed.
His body moved on his own, pushed Kuroko aside and stumbled on the narrow path of the bus. He kept his gaze fixed on the window, tiptoed whenever too tall people came in his way and rushed towards the doors. The back of his head pounded. Faintly he heard Kuroko call him but flatly ignored the words. He thought of Midorima and felt flustered, swallowed down a lump that had risen to his throat along with his heart and squeezed his fingers to fists.
Without a warning the bus moved again. He nearly fell over but grabbed a hold of a nearby rail to keep himself on his feet. His cheeks glowed.
“Stop the bus!” he shrieked. The driver didn’t obey. “Stop the bus, did you hear me, stop the bus!”
“Takao-kun!” called Kuroko. His voice strained surprisingly desperate.
Takao kept repeating the same sentence over and over again until the vehicle stopped several hundred meters later. He jumped off to the slosh and glanced up immediately. The skies had cleared and the snowflakes gently trickled down in all peace. No one else seemed to have any hurry other than him who ran towards the shop he had seen. His breath turned white and flew up to the clouds.
“Shin-chan!” he shouted. He bumped to people but apologized to none, made his way forward with determination. Afraid to miss the green-haired man, wildly Takao looked around but didn’t see a single glimpse of Midorima. “Shin-chan!”
The good memories came pouring back. All the Christmases spent together, the snowy mornings when the two of them had laid under warm quilts, the flustered and embarrassed expression of Midorima when they exchanged their presents. Takao huffed. The slippery street had masked itself as a safe one under the pile of snow and wanted to con him, but he kept his balance. His heart wanted to jump out of the ribcage. What about all the New Years they had spent together, wished for another year together? Quite frankly Takao was ready to discard anything to get those times back. He bit his bottom lip to prevent himself from smiling wider than in years.
He spotted Midorima and came to a halt, as if he had ran straight to a wall. He breathed hard, his shoulders rose heavily, and he hung his arms by his sides. Only few steps separating them… Few more, and they could be reunited after all these years. On his lips Takao settled a smile that was always and would always be reserved only for Midorima. He wondered what he should say. The snow seemed to freeze mid-air. The rest of the world disappeared. So long he had wished for this happiness. Finally his prayers were answered.
The first steps were trembling and full of anticipation. Takao was barely able to contain his excitement. The next ones were a little faster, but suddenly he stopped. He was near enough to hear a little bell chime. A small girl wearing the most beautiful dress he had ever seen came out from the shop. She held a colorfully wrapped package in her hands and ran straight to Midorima, jumped up and down and had a wide smile on her lips. Her green pigtails swayed in the rhythm of her jumps. Midorima reached his hands for her, and his expression was softer than Takao had ever seen.
Takao’s insides turned cold, and he froze. He was in the distance for Midorima to hear him if he would now call him, but he couldn’t. No one had to spell him what was happening in front of his eyes – he knew. His chest stung. He took a sharp inhale. The little girl was beautiful, full of energy and, most importantly, made Midorima smile in such a way. Takao swallowed. Back came the Christmas that had been just like this one, snowy and peaceful. After all these years Midorima’s shouts still echoed in the back of his mind, how he wanted children, how Takao couldn’t give them. His knees ached from the memory of falling down on the floor in front of Midorima to beg him to stay. Once again the door was slammed in front of his face.
All he had wanted for Christmas was to become a woman to give his loved one a child. His wish still hadn’t been granted.
A shivery breath escaped him when warm fingers blocked his view. In the safety of the palm he knew and trusted Takao closed his eyes from reality and hiccupped. He felt Kuroko’s breath against his nape, felt another body press to him, and knowing he had nothing to be ashamed of, he cried. He trembled and placed his hand over Kuroko’s, squeezed the fingers that had thoroughly loved him. His lips curled downwards as ugly tears of jealousy stung his cheeks. He pitied himself; already twenty-five in years, and he still cried after his first love.
“Is that his child?” His words were barely recognizable under the wave of gross sobs.
“Takao—“
“Just tell me,” he pleaded and pressed his back better against Kuroko’s chest. “Is that his child or not?”
Silence. It was unlike anything they had shared before. Eventually Kuroko whispered, “It seems so, yes.”
It felt like his heart broke to little pieces that dropped to the pit of his stomach one by one. Takao turned around and faced Kuroko, didn’t care about the time or the place and kissed the man who had been nothing but tender to him. Kuroko cupped his face to his palms and returned the kiss with gentleness that bore a new hole in Takao’s chest. He let out another sob and wrapped his arms around Kuroko, squeezed him tight and cried this openly for the first time in ages. The girl had looked so old already, she was such a beauty, and Midorima had smiled in a way that he had never showed to him. Takao muffled his noises to Kuroko’s neck and felt a hand stroke his back. Out of desperation he clung to the other man under the watchful eyes of by-passers.
Kuroko kissed Takao's chin, then his cheek and murmured, “Let’s go home.”
Takao found no reason to decline the offer. He took a hold of Kuroko’s hand and dearly hoped that the warmth of the other wouldn’t abandon him as well. The snow fell heavier as he was led through the streets and the mass of cheerful shoppers. He hung his head low and sniffed every other step, masked it away as a flu and tried not to think about anything. His fingertips ached from the cold, and even Kuroko couldn’t quite warm them with his body heat. He wondered when the thoughts and feelings would subside, but found no answer.
The snow was still piled on their porch, it hadn’t disappeared anywhere in the silly minutes they had been gone. Takao’s nose was runny, and he wiped the snot away to the sleeve of his jacket. They didn’t exchange a single word as they finally were alone in their nest built together from the ruins of a broken heart. Part of him joyed for Midorima – the man had finally gotten a family. The uglier part of him wanted to rip the same family apart and bring Midorima somewhere dark, somewhere where he could only see him and nothing more.
As soon as Kuroko had managed to hang his jacket on the rack, Takao pounced on him. He didn’t think twice, he simply pinned Kuroko against the wall and drowned him in a sea of kisses in the desperate attempt of forgetting his own heart. Kuroko protested none. Takao nipped the man’s bottom lip and bore his fingertips to the delicate wrists, pressed his body against the other and felt his bones ache. This wasn’t how he wanted to do it, but he couldn’t stand kindness on Christmases. He trailed his tongue inside Kuroko’s mouth and lured out a sweet moan, felt his groin ache. Their bodies entwined to each other in Takao’s effort to make himself think anything other than Midorima.
He trailed his hands under Kuroko’s arms and with ease lifted the other up, supported him from his bottom. The slender legs wrapped around his waist, and not once did their kiss break as he stumbled towards the bedroom. He felt lightheaded and his eyes itched from the tears that little by little began to dry on his cheeks. Kuroko kissed him eagerly, worked his fingers through his dark hair and yanked them a little, made him groan in ecstasy. Such things were the ones he needed, and all of him knew that Kuroko was aware of it.
The last steps were hasty, desperate, and blindly Takao managed to slump down on the edge of the bed. He held Kuroko in his lap and parted his lips, let his tongue do a wild French dance with the other. Underneath the thin fabric of Kuroko’s shirt laid warmth and love, and Takao explored the soft skin with his very fingertips. He made the man quiver, brushed over the nipples that perked and got a response of another moan. He grew hungrier and yanked Kuroko’s shirt away, attacked his neck and bit and suckled the sheer skin. The whimpers that escaped Kuroko echoed right in the root of his ear and made his cock twitch. Kuroko nibbled Takao’s earlobe in a way that no one could call aggressive, but Takao loved it just the way it was given to him. He swallowed down a loud moan and grazed over Kuroko’s Adam’s apple with his front teeth.
Takao shifted Kuroko’s pants just enough to reveal his bottom and nudged two of his fingers inside Kuroko’s hot mouth. The expression Kuroko gave him as he sucked his fingers and wet them with his saliva was more erotic than Takao had hoped for, and his abdomen tightened. He trembled and moistened his lips, parted them and looked straight into the blue eyes that always reeled him in. Unable to think about anything else – which he was grateful of –, Takao pressed his chest against Kuroko’s and moved his slick fingers between the round buttocks. He toyed with the puckered entrance, hesitated a second, and pushed his fingers in. There was no resistance.
Kuroko wrapped his arms around Takao’s nape and moved his hips ever so slightly. He leaned in and breathed into Takao’s ear, “Takao-kun…”
Takao shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut, crooked his fingers. The way Kuroko said his name brought back memories he wanted to shove far away. A frown wrinkled his forehead, and when Kuroko moaned his name again, he peeled his chest away from the other’s and looked up at Kuroko. He examined the lips that weren’t as plump as Midorima’s, that called his name in the exact same way his Shin-chan had done, and felt ready to cry. Perhaps Kuroko noticed it as well, as he brushed his thumb right underneath Takao’s eye.
“Takao-kun?”
“Call me by my name,” Takao pleaded for the hundredth time.
A soft smile rose to Kuroko’s lips. He pressed his nose against Takao’s and murmured against his lips, “Kazunari-kun…”
Takao trembled. There was not a single thing sexier Kuroko could have said to him, and it made heat rose to the very surface of his quivering skin. He pushed his fingers deeper inside and examined the warm walls of the tight muscles. Kuroko grinded his crotch against Takao’s and squeezed his eyes shut when Takao pulled his pants low enough for his weeping shaft to get freedom. Takao glanced down at the glistening, swollen glans of Kuroko’s that had turned bright red, swallowed and flicked it. Sweetly Kuroko cried out. Takao’s own cock called for freedom, and he gave it exactly that.
The world seemed to stop. He looked into Kuroko’s eyes again and pulled his fingers away. His shoulders rose heavily to the rhythm of his breaths that were difficult to muster out all of a sudden, and Kuroko seemed to be the same. Takao sucked his bottom lip in hesitation and wrapped his arms around Kuroko’s waist, cringed a little when Kuroko lifted his hips enough to settle the tip of Takao’s cock on his entrance. Their breaths mingled together desperately, in a way they had done countless times, and just as many times it didn’t bring ultimate satisfaction to Takao. However, it was good enough for him, it was something he could settle with ease, thus he stretched his neck and kissed Kuroko in the moment he got himself inside the other body.
He wondered how long it would take for him to get accustomed to doing this to someone rather than being done by someone. A huff escaped him as he held Kuroko tight against his body and moved his hips as best as he could. Takao squeezed his eyes shut and allowed moans to trickle out of his mouth. The tightness around his shaft felt just as exotic as it had on the first time, and he came to the conclusion that he was never going to get used to it. He hummed, when Kuroko smooched his forehead, and squeezed the other’s hips a bit tighter.
The room filled with their mutual grunts and moans of pleasure. Takao pressed his forehead against Kuroko’s shoulder and would have loved to lull in the bliss of doing this with someone he cared about so deeply but found himself unable to. Thoughts crossed his mind, fast and slow, and made the bottom of his abdomen ache in an unpleasant way. His hands trembled. On the darkness that covered his closed eyelids he saw the little girl in her lovely dress, the familiar hue of green in her hair, and was afraid that he would wither. Not wanting to give Kuroko a bad experience after so many of them, Takao shooed the images away and worked his hips higher.
Although he had a beautiful lover that surely tried his best to cope with him and his gimmicks on his lap, Takao found himself thinking about the green eyes that had so feverishly looked at him, the set of lips that had moaned his name in a slightly deeper voice, and the arms that were stronger than the ones holding him right now. He grunted and couldn’t escape anymore. He stopped without a warning and collapsed, pressed his head against Kuroko’s bare chest and cried. His world didn’t spin around anymore, it hadn’t in years, and once again he was face to face with the realization. He trembled and bit his lip, tasted blood in his mouth but didn’t care. Although his cock twitched inside Kuroko, he couldn’t continue despite the pleasure snuggling inside him.
“Let’s break up,” he sobbed. “I’ll always love him, I won’t make you happy, let’s just finally break up…”
No longer could he remember how many times he had started a conversation with the exact same words. As always, Kuroko lifted Takao’s chin and looked him in the eyes with compassion, gently kissed the tear-soaked lips and rubbed the velvet-smooth nape.
“Kazunari-kun,” said Kuroko with a voice that anyone could have mistaken for sweet honey. The smile on his lips was more soothing than anything else. “Do you really want to break up?”
Takao frowned and looked at Kuroko, asked the same question from himself over and over again. He knew the answer without hesitation but still looked down at their laps, examined the trail of pre-cum that dripped down on Kuroko’s length. The fingers that combed through his hair felt good, and he shuddered. Finally he whispered, “I don’t.”
Kuroko wrapped his arms around Takao and pressed his face against his chest, rocked him with care. He kissed Takao’s forehead and said, “I have been with Kazunari-kun for five years, and I will be with Kazunari-kun for five years more if I’m allowed to.”
A sad laughter escaped Takao, and he hugged Kuroko tighter, buried his face to the warm chest. He heard Kuroko’s heartbeat against his ear and melted. Against the other’s skin he murmured, “But you didn’t sign up to be with an emotional wreck.”
“I don’t care.”
They were words that Takao really wanted to believe in.
“I love you, Kazunari-kun.” Kuroko tightened his embrace. “And I will be with Kazunari-kun as long as he wants me by his side… If tomorrow Midorima-kun comes and says he wants you back, I will step down and give you to him. I only want you to be happy.”
Takao felt like the biggest douche in the world. He couldn’t remember anymore how he had managed to lure Kuroko to be in a relationship with him in the first place, but every once in a while – like now – he felt like he was acting very unfair to the other man. Kuroko said he wanted him to be happy, but what about himself? Thick tears itched Takao’s eyes, and he no longer wanted to let go of Kuroko. He rather stayed locked in the same position; it was something he was at least capable of.
“I love you,” Kuroko repeated. Gently he moved his fingers under Takao’s chin and made the man look up at him. He smiled carefully and rubbed the skin over Takao’s jawbone. “What does Kazunari-kun think about me?”
A sting of pain filled Takao’s chest. I love you too. After all these years, he was still unable to say them aloud. He was such a coward.
“I really care about you,” he evaded the words. He moved his hand over Kuroko’s and squeezed tight, closed his eyes when the corners of them were wiped. Ever so slightly he quivered and heaved out a soft sigh. A tiny bit of warmth spread to his chest. He murmured, “You won’t be happy with me like this.”
“I already am.” Kuroko sounded rather impatient. “I’m very happy with you like this. I don’t care if Kazunari-kun loves Midorima-kun for the rest of his life, I’m happy like this.”
What had he ever done to deserve such a person in his life?
With a quiet whimper Kuroko lifted his hips enough to get Takao’s shaft out of him; it had withered after all. Takao licked his salty lips and looked up at Kuroko, felt like a hurt little puppy, and perhaps that was exactly how Kuroko saw him as well. Without a word Kuroko plopped down on the bed and reached his arms towards Takao, muttered a gentle, “Come here,” from the corner of his lips.
Gratefully Takao complied and snuggled against Kuroko’s side, rested his head on the man’s chest that heavily rose to the rhythm of his breaths. Takao closed his eyes and concentrated all his energy in listening the heartbeat of the person who loved him the most. So long he had wished to be happy with just this, so long he had convinced himself that this was all he needed, but it had never been enough. The arms that held him weren’t Midorima’s. The lips that so tenderly kissed his forehead and the fingers that stroked some of his hair behind the ear weren’t Midorima’s. His heart burned.
“We can skip Christmas this year,” Kuroko offered out of the blue.
Takao glanced up and pressed his chin against Kuroko’s chest, thought about it for a moment. A weak yet hopeful smile rose to his lips. “Could we?”
Kuroko nodded.
“I’d love that,” Takao admitted and pressed his cheek back to the naked chest. He hummed. “Mom’s going to be so disappointed that we’re not going there, though…”
“I’m sure she will be fine with it.” Kuroko worked his fingertips on Takao’s forehead and stroked the dark hairline.
“Hopefully.” Takao closed his eyes. His heart didn’t feel so heavy all of a sudden. “I just want to spend all the time with you without any hassle.”
“That sounds wonderful.”
Takao inched a bit closer and pressed his lips to Kuroko’s chin, kissed the spot with all the care he harbored towards the other man. He wished he was able to say I love you in the most conventional way, but although today wasn’t the day, he hoped it was yet to come. The top of his head he nudged underneath Kuroko’s jaw and found himself the most comfortable spot, nuzzled the chest and slipped his eyes closed. He hoped that the next time he would open his eyes, the winter was over and the cherry blossoms in full bloom. Under the spring sakura he would hold Kuroko’s hand and finally let go of the past, and say the words Kuroko had patiently waited all these years.