laography | you got a heart that's born with a beat

❝ what's that now,
you forget how to breathe? ❞
I WANNA GET THAT THING RUNNIN'!

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THIS POST HAS POTENTIAL TO BECOME NSFW.

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[ Though he doesn't really have very many memories of his first foray into sleeping curled up around Kenma, Kuroo regardless knows that he's been doing it for his entire life. When they were babies, when they were kids, when they were teenagers, all the way to now. It's been a safe place for the both of them, that gentle curve of bodies together, whether he's pressed along the gentle arch of Kenma's spine or if they're tangled up in one another, limbs an arrangement of knots - almost like that Gordian knot, or whatever it's called, the uncuttable one, because they've been inseparable for as long as either of them can remember.

There was one night where it could have been, where it could have all ended, but he promised a long time ago to always come back to Kenma. It was sappy and dumb and he made a few jokes and references to video games just to make it less so, because even he thought it was a little ridiculous, but he meant it nonetheless. So he comes home, bloody and beaten, but home regardless every time.

He's got scars as evidence of that determination to come home to the only person that has mattered more than anything else in the world, the only person he'll love with his entire being. He can't help but smile wide, now, as Kenma looks at him, and even Kuroo feels that relief.

At their feet, he feels Link moving. Zelda rearranges herself up by their heads, and it's like everything is complete. Hooking his arm around Kenma only makes it better, and he brings one of his big hands up to cradle the back of his skull, where his roots have grown in underneath the sweep of his dyed hair. And then, slowly, he seems to completely deflate and melt into the bed, nuzzling into his hair and breathing him in. Relief and exhaustion, adoration and contentment. ] Hey there, kitten.

you got a heart that's born with a beat

swoops in