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Sometimes, Kagami loses himself. His pupils dilate, he forgets what he's doing, forgets to breathe and lets his mind wander subconsciously.
It never has to be a special occasion. It never is. Such hazy moments come to him at the most haphazard times, in which he unknowingly loses himself in loyal concentration. It is much unlike the Zone, however, because this concentration is not one of uptight hunger, thirst and fierce desire, but one of gentle contentment and peace, when every fibre of his being is wholly at ease and his five senses have slipped quietly from his control.
In other words, he loses himself, and he never realises it, not until someone intrudes into his daze.
In other words, while he may not realise this yet, Kagami's cause is to fall in love, and his effect is to lose himself.
One of those times are now. 6.25 p.m. in the evening, and the sun is just beginning to meld into the horizon. They've been in this position on the sofa for hours, since noon, watching cheesy soap operas, throwing in the occasional cuddle. On a more independent and subconscious level, they sometimes steal glances of each other. They don't do much, just soaking in each other's presence.
Of course, those weren't a very productive few hours, but despite Kagami's penchant for adrenaline-inducing excitement and inability to hold his feet still, he doesn't mind taking a lazy, relaxed day off once in a while, a rarity in their busy daily schedules.
Anything, in fact, if it's with him.
He brings to mind the day they met, his sudden challenge, and unexpected proposal of dedication. What seemed like the prospect of a win-win situation appealed to Kagami without much thinking, and thus, he thought, why not?
Tossed away were apprehensions that came with trusting a complete stranger, naive as the idea may seem, and thus Kagami threw open the window to his soul with reckless abandon and took everything in, hail, snow, or thunderstorm.
What he didn't see coming, though, was the way he couldn't put a finger to things. Why the blue-haired creature never made facial expressions, which, he came to realise in time, was wholly a misconception on his part.
And subsequently, how the blue-haired boy produces angelic smiles so subtle and fleeting yet so fetching, it makes him shiver, never to take his eyes off. It dismisses all of zero presence and invisibility into oblivion.
And why and how and when did he even realise that if the blue-haired heartthrob ever does so much as to shed a tear, the mere sight of it is more than sufficient to send arrows shooting relentlessly into Kagami's heart, and he hates to admit it, he really does, but it aches and aches and threatens to shatter into smithereens.
And he hates to admit it, he really does, but he is afraid of the imminent addiction that is to come, because as painful as it feels, he knows fully well that he can get drunk on and subsequently drown in a certain brand of heartache.
Of course he swears, in earnest but inwardly, to ensure that his blue-haired angel never cries again. To be his light to his shadow.
Never had he intended to take that promise lightly.
And to this day, he still has trouble putting a finger to things. Why his hair is nearly translucent when exposed to light, why his few but prominent freckles look so oddly adorable on him, how he sometimes gets triple eyelids right after he wakes up, how breathtakingly kind-hearted he can get, especially to animals.
Why he gets more beautiful the more he looks at him, and how he simply worms his way into his heart inch-by-inch before he can even begin to notice it.
And he falls in love, more and more, every single day.
And of course he doesn't come to realise that he is staring, when his light-haired lover looks out of the window at the gold of the horizon during the sunset, and he, in turn, cannot help but look into another pair of windows, the ones which lead Kagami into Kuroko's very soul, the blue of an afternoon sky speckled generously with a champagne yellow and Kuroko blinks, eyelashes like curtains sweeping over the orbs in attention, as if a tease, every small movement of his circular and radial muscles sending ripples all the way across the aqueous glaze of those eyes into Kagami's, leading straight into his very core.
A voice shatters his daze, gentle, warm, yet familiarly deadpan.
"It's rude to stare, Kagami-kun."
All of his senses come rushing back to him as he comprehends with his newfound conscious what he had unknowingly done just a moment ago. A strange substance called emotion gushes into every one of his veins and arteries to tell him that he absolutely loved the sight as he released an unknowingly held breath.
And he doesn't even have time to apologise, he doesn't even have time to realise that somehow, something, someone had just taken his breath away, before he feels a presence ghosting over his lips, so strong that he can never think of overshadowing it. Kuroko is leaning in towards him, and it takes a few moments for Kagami to realise that he, too, is unconsciously moving forward. They are painfully aware of each other at this point in time, and much like unlike poles of two magnets, they can't pull away at this juncture.
With no room left for excuses, however, they find that it is not that they can't pull away, the simple fact is that they don't want to pull away.
Kuroko was the first to place his lips on Kagami's. That very sensation sends a tingle into every single one of Kagami's sixty trillion cells and it is like a chemical reaction as Kagami is suddenly aflame, pushing Kuroko into the couch, one hand a possessive grasp around his lover's throbbing wrist and the other eagerly pushing down on his shoulder, capturing him as he takes his lips by storm.
As he pries open those slightly chapped lips with his tongue, over-inquisitive in the heat of the moment, a small gasp is incited from Kuroko, and Kagami finds that the interior of his mouth is so warm and so soft, and the need to make him his gushes out like the carmine of fluid lava from a volcano that remained dormant for centuries too long, smashing and engulfing the very crater of his self-control.
Kuroko fuels the fire by using both hands to pull him down with the force equivalent to that of an Ignite Pass, as proof of Kuroko's feelings being mutual, and as eager to engulf. Kagami's heart jumps a little, but he can never be happier to accede to Kuroko's demands.
At this moment in time Kagami doesn't have to will his actions any further - he goes on instinct, and the way they melt into each other is not aggressively violent to the point of injury, despite the given potential of it being so which comes free of charge, with the way they see each other and feel for each other. The way Kagami takes the lead is just enough to tell Kuroko the extent of his emotions for him without hurting him, and Kuroko responds in the exact same way.
This being their initial experience, they're still learning to read and travel the maps that are each other, of course, but their intuition leads them right the first time.
There are no overly emotive words exchanged, only red and blue, perfectly blending, basking, shimmering and soaking in each other, perfect complements of no other kind.
In the distance of the horizon, glowing vermillion melds with the bluish-greyish darkness of the sea, like light and shadow - they don't exist apart from each other. Even if for a moment, the product of their fusion overpowers all else, the most breathtaking sight that can ever be.
When they awaken, it is already close to 9 p.m., and Kuroko's arms are held snugly around Kagami's torso as he fits his head perfectly on top of his right shoulder, pale nose a mere three centimetres from his neck, while Kagami's arms extend to surround Kuroko's waist. It's not awkward or uncomfortable or anything, really, despite the retrospect of their recent fervour towards each other.
In fact, if they even stop to think about it, all the pieces fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, and so do they.