In which love triangles are never good, but especially when dealing with two very different redheads.

XXX

If Kuroko ever had a story to tell, he'd probably start off with his second year of middle school, right before Teikou's second consecutive championship. That was the year that love bloomed—

And the year it was ripped achingly from his hands.

In all honesty, he hadn't been expecting much. The guy he liked—and yes, he said guy, that wasn't a typo—was someone who, for lack of a better term, was completely beyond his reach. He was handsome, he was kind, he was smart, he was athletic, he was perfect in every way possible—

And, it seemed, he was completely and utterly straight.

That's the hard thing about falling in love, especially in Kuroko's case—not only did he have to worry about rejection, but he had to worry about disgust, hatred, even a ruined friendship. He had to worry, not only about the guy telling his friends he was disgusting, but telling his teachers, his parents, and his classmates about him, which would cause him to be ostracized, completely deleted.

His lack of presence would morph into actual morbid shadows.

And yet, God had a cruel sense of humor, and his timing was even crueler still.

It had been after dark. He knew that, even as he stayed behind an extra hour, two, in the gym, practicing his heart out—but he couldn't really bring himself to mind. These nights were so strange, so magical, that sometimes he forgot that everyone else had left—well, almost everyone. Not like he'd admit it to anyone, but there was another reason why he stayed here, so late at night.

"Kuroko—are you still practicing?"

The ball rebounded off the hoop, clattering to the floor. The echo carried for a few seconds, impossibly loud in the large gym. "A-Akashi-kun."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw bright red—startling, and yet, strangely beautiful. Bright red, like blood . . . He shook his head, turning to face the one person whose entire existence counteracted Kuroko's own. That pale ivory skin, that calculating gaze, that athleticism that Kuroko couldn't even dream of obtaining . . . All of it, every bit of it, was him. A beautiful, unscripted soul—

He saw Akashi smile softly, the sight nearly breathtaking, before he stepped forward, subconsciously drawn by his charm. "Akashi-kun, why are you here so late?"

The question seemed to startle him, if only slightly, for he wavered a few moments before replying. " . . . I wanted to see how your training was going."

Kuroko's heart thumped painfully against his chest.

"It's . . . it's fine." He glanced into Akashi's eyes, growing bolder. "I'm doing well."

"Oh?" The tone was conversational, but to Kuroko, he could almost feel the disappointment rolling off his tongue. "Then shall we test that theory?"

"Test it?"

"Of course." Akashi looked affronted that he was being questioned. "By one-on-one."

Kuroko felt himself pale, but he was secretly glad that his voice didn't waver. "I'd love to, Akashi-kun, but I should really be getting home."

For a moment, Kuroko saw something . . . well, unusual happen to his captain. For a moment, he saw two eyes, one his true red, but the other flashed . . .

A virulent gold.

Kuroko shook his head, focusing harder, and breathing out a sigh of relief when he realized they were the same. Had his eyes been playing tricks on him? Ah, but Akashi had appeared to have two different colored eyes for just a split second—

"Kuroko? Are you okay?"

Suddenly snapped out of his thoughts, Kuroko reeled back, the words quickly registering. "I'm fine, Akashi-kun. Just a little tired."

Akashi didn't look like he believed him, but he sighed, letting the issue drop. "It's these late nights. They'll kill you, Kuroko."

Kuroko pouted, wanting to tell Akashi he knew perfectly well what his capabilities were, but decided, instead, to say, "I would love to play one-on-one with Akashi-kun."

Akashi smiled again, this time his eyes shining warmly. Kuroko's heart thumped again, and again, and he suddenly felt very, very hot.

"Ah, uh—let's get started then." Kuroko grabbed a nearby basketball, and threw it to Akashi. "You can start first, Akashi-kun."

"That's very generous of you, Kuroko." Akashi slowly started to dribble, his fingers flexing against the ball, everything in slow motion. Well, at least to Kuroko. He just couldn't get over how cool or amazing his captain was, or how pure his skin was, or how lean and muscular he was, and—oh God, those lips—

The ball swooshed right through the net before connecting with the ground.

Akashi glanced back at the still frozen Kuroko, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "As I said before, generous."

"Akashi-kun is mean."

"Oh?" There was a twinkle of mirth in his eyes. "And how is that?"

"I was lost in thought, and you . . ." Kuroko blushed, averting his eyes. "Never mind. Can we . . . can we try again?"

This time, Akashi did smirk, though the warmth didn't stray from his eyes. "Always. But this will be the last one, okay?"

Kuroko nodded, and they started again, this time with both participants in the game. Akashi faked to the right, then dribbled to the left, spinning around Kuroko in a slower version of a move Aomine had recently been developing. But Kuroko, being used to his light's actions, stepped to the side and reached out, hand almost intercepting the ball—almost. He was only centimeters away when Akashi, having prepared for this, stepped back and spun around Kuroko again, bringing the ball up to his chest for a basket. He would've made it, too, had not one thing happened.

Namely, Kuroko's own clumsiness.

He wasn't exactly sure what he was thinking, but as Akashi prepared to shoot the shot that would end it all, Kuroko felt all his inhibitions simply . . . melt away. He didn't stand back and think of the outcomes, nor did he freeze from the redhead's sheer strength. Rather, he raced forward, fingertips splayed out, hand almost touching the ball—

There was a clatter, and a bang, and the next thing Kuroko knew was he was glancing down at Akashi, the basketball bouncing helplessly beside them. Akashi glanced up at him with wide eyes, though Kuroko was sure he was just as surprised, perhaps even more so. This . . . was this a joke? Did God hate him? Was he mocking him, and his futile love, the one that would never bear any fruit?

But as he was staring down at Akashi, all those questions seemed entirely irrelevant, and completely unimportant. He was sitting on top of Akashi. On Top. Of Akashi. The thought was dizzying and left him breathless, and he could feel himself become slightly aroused at the sight of those rosy cheeks, that tussled hair, those bright red eyes that seemed to peer into his very soul—

Akashi was the first to speak. "Kuroko—"

But he never got the chance. Before Akashi even knew what was happening, Kuroko leaned down and kissed him.

He was kissing Akashi.

To Kuroko, their lips seemed to mold together almost like a broken plate, and Kuroko, feeling emblazoned, gently touched his tongue to Akashi's lips—

The reaction was immediate, and instantaneous.

Before Kuroko could even register what was happening, Akashi pushed him up, rubbing at his mouth vigorously, looking as perturbed as Kuroko had even seen him.

"You—what are—you . . . you just . . ." It was an amusing sight, Kuroko thought, seeing Akashi so flustered, especially when he'd been the cause of it. But one look at his eyes, and Kuroko's mirth was quickly dispelled. That warmth from before? Gone. Those friendly eyes, the one's of his captain, his friend? All but evaporated. All that was left were eyes full of confusion, uncertainty, and—here Kuroko gulped, finally reading the last emotion—disgust.

Akashi was disgusted with him.

Kuroko, taking a shaky breath, stood up, looking at Akashi with more courage than he felt. "I like you, Akashi-kun." Always blunt and to the point. There was no need for anything else.

"L-like . . . ?" Akashi stepped back, glancing at Kuroko uncertainly. "H-how do you . . . You like me?" The last words were soft, softer than a child's, though his gaze seemed to harden. It was much harsher than anything Kuroko had seen before. "You like me?"

"Yes." It was incredibly difficult keeping the emotions off his face, but he managed. "I like you."

"Ah! No—don't say anymore. Y-you . . . I'm sorry, Kuroko." And with that, Akashi darted off, leaving Kuroko alone in the dimly lit gymnasium.

And deeply alone with his heart, that seemed to break into pieces.

XXX

Hey there! So I decided, while I was finishing my Free! Crossover, that I'd do some KnB one to three shots based on requests, AUs, and my own personal indecencies. This is the first part of at least two, and the prompt is italicized at the top. Might change frequently, so be prepared!

And these will all be AkaKuro. Whether it's Kuroko on top, bottom, current Akashi, past Akashi . . . it doesn't matter. If you send me a request, I'll try to see what I can do with it :D It can be like the prompt at top, or it can be a little more specific. And I'll try to do them in order! But yeah, requests as of right now are . . .

OPEN.

Also, as a note: This takes place before Akashi changes into the Akashi we all know and love. Hence him being a little more innocent and him calling Kuroko, Kuroko. So yeah. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you feel so inclined, drop a line or a fav and let me know how I did!

:D