With every gaining step came a flash of navy blue hair swishing carelessly through the cool morning air - or so it seems. In reality, despite Aomine's ever present "I don't give a flying fuck" vibe, he was harshly tumbling through his own little version of mental hell.
Regardless of all the (many) times he'd been wrong before, there was no way he could possibly be wrong again - or so he tells himself. Kuroko, he dimly reasons, is undoubtably a boyish, flat-chested, girl. A rather hot, boyish, flat-chested, girl, he argues.
All the better reason to do what he was about to do.
Not all that stealthily creeping along the rows of gleaming metal lockers, he came to an awkward halt about a good five feet away from the calmly undressing bluenette. Back still turned, Kuroko surprisingly showed no indications of having noticed Aomine's presence.
Well, goes nothing.
Swiftly moving to grab the unnaturally pale, delicate shoulders of his oblivious teammate, he was met with the innocent gaze of a very confused-looking Kuroko.
"Aomine-kun, what - "
"Take off your boxers."
...
"No, thank you Aomine, but I'd rather not."
"Ugh, just fucking - "
And with that, came an onslaught of borderline-violent activities, much consisting of the two teammates "fighting" for dominance. "Fighting", meaning that in less than 5 minutes, Kuroko had found himself helplessly pinned, panting, and throughly pissed off from beneath the crushing weight of a particularly idiotic dark-skinned beast.
"You know, this could technically be considered sexual harassment."
Growling, Aomine hastily mumbled something along the lines of "I don't give a fuck", before roughly, with a disturbingly animalistic vibe, pulling of Kuroko's light blue boxers.
...
Penis.
Kuroko. Had. A. Penis.
...
"Aomine," the now blushing, wide-eyed boy began, "although I am flattered, I really would appreciate it if you'd stop staring at me and my privates."
...
Shit.