- A
It had occurred to Daiki Aomine that he was getting old.
Often, his mother, a dark-skinned woman, native of Barbados, would tell him:
"You should go out, meet a woman. You're an honest man, Daiki."
He hadn't given it much thought at first, but nowadays, as he sat on his veranda in the fair weather of the Keys' afternoons', he words would tumble into his mind. He heaved a sigh, stood up and placed his hands in his pockets; he decided to busy himself with more work to get his mind back on track.
- K
Kise Ryouta was not dressed appropriately for the venue he had found himself in; the wall clock of the five-star resort read twelve a.m., and the hotel security was now approaching quickly. He did his best to move with some sort of control when he spotted the suited men in the reflection of the glass wall affront him. Swinging his legs over the expensive leather of the sofa, he pushed hard as his feet hit the floor, flashed a smile at the elderly desk receptionist and broke free into the Florida sun. He allowed himself a quick glance over his shoulder, but, to his dismay, the pursuit had not ended just yet,
"Homeless aren't allowed here, idiot! This isn't a damn open lobby resort!"
Homeless?
The eighteen year old hesitated for just a moment before taking off again. Kise wasn't the most athletic, but he was far from being mediocre with physique and fitness. He broke into a full blown sprint across the street, no longer worried about who was behind him, and with a destination in mind he steadied to a jog when he felt safe.
"Ya' look…"
Kise grinned,
"Ya' look like a piece'a ratshit my brother would'a spit up."
His facial expression twisted into a grimace, "That's disgusting Diesel."
"I know," Diesel spat a mouthful of sunflower seeds into the plastic bag at his feet, "whatcha lookin' like to me. Ratshit."
Kise knitted his brows together as he approached the hanging mirror of the parlor; he did look terrible- especially compared to his typical appearance.
His jeans were old and tattered; they could've been described as light-washed denim had there not been whiskey stains and vomit that most likely (or so he hoped) was from the day before. Lobster and shrimp, he reminded himself, a meal paid for by a middle-aged woman, desperate for a thrill. He tore his eyes away from the ridiculous hole in the pants, right above the knee, his shirt wasn't that bad, just stains and spills over old grey fabric (grey- but it looked brown). Kise's hair was knotted, he had decided to grow it out just last year, but with the life he was leading he wondered if just maybe short hair was better. His, typically, shiny and white-yellow tresses, were matted, a rustic gold color, and uneven at the sides. His skin was mottled with sticky patches and powders, dirt stains and bruises, and in the harsh fluorescent light of the shop, his tan skin only made him seem filthier.
This was bad, he decided. But, he didn't look like ratshit.
"I'm going to wash up."
"Yeah, g'on n' get yer mangy behind in the tub."
"Kise," it was Adeline who chided in behind Diesel's sarcasm, "the towels and rags are underneath the bed."
"Thanks, Addy."
- A
Aomine was pissed.
What had been recommended to him as a "top-notch" facility looked like a sad excuse for an excessively decorated restaurant in the ghetto that he grew up in. He was here now, however, and hoped the staff made up for the buildings poor façade and shitty appeal.
Inside was clean and bright; Aomine could see directly to the back wall, he noticed that the building was a lot larger on the inside than it looked on the outside. The walls were painted black, except the long back wall that was completely brick, and had all sorts of graffiti on them, at a closer look he noticed that around the art people had signed their names that had also come here. Everywhere was neat and organized; area's for every person getting work done were evenly separated and divided by long and heavy hanging curtains.
"Mr. Aomine!"
He turned his head to the side, looking down a little ways to make eye contact,
"Hi! Thanks so much for picking us to do your tattoo work," Adeline was shorter than him, she felt mildly intimidated by his monotone facial expression, "I'm Adeline Ramos; we spoke on the phone to set up your appointment."
"Hey," Aomine began, offering her a cordial smile, "You've got a nice set-up here."
"Thanks," she cooed, gesturing at the entrance then, "The outside needs a lot of work."
"It does." Aomine agreed,
"Alright, so today, we're doing the linework for your tattoo, and I've decided to have Kise be the one to ink you. He's friendly- overly social, if anything," She began walking away and Aomine follows shortly behind, "Feel free to tell him to shut up if you need to."
Adeline Ramos putters away about need or necessities, she leads him up a set of thin metal stairs and into an open room with six narrow, bed-like seats.
"You're getting a full back and its heavy on detail, so you'll be up here today."
Aomine nods, letting his gaze fall onto the view of the city, the entire wall ahead of them is glass, it reminds Aomine of a large HD-TV, "How long do you think it'll take?"
"Entirely…" she picks up a clip board, the top paper has the sketch of the tattoo she and Aomine had talked their way to, "For just the linework today, it might take about six hours, so you'll be done around two- but, entirely, and with the way Kise is a perfectionist, maybe seven weeks."
"Damn,"
"Yup. You aren't getting heavy color or anything, so it's actually a lot less than it could be. But go ahead and take off your shirt, Kise will come as soon as he's done cleaning up." Adeline sets the clipboard down and walks away, grabbing a hand full of her auburn hair as she makes her way down the stairs.
- K
"Kise!" He's drying his hair with a towel when Adeline comes barreling into the staff restroom,
"Daiki Aomine is here!"
"Ah shit, dude, is that the basketball player from FSU?"
Kise smiled nervously, "Yeah that's him,"
"He doesn't like to talk much, you know. Are you going to try and socialize with him?"
"Duh. That's my job." Kise threw Reagan a glare; the red-head was always asking stupid questions.
"Okay, that's beyond the point right now. Kise get over here so I can blow dry your hair, I want you look presentable." Adeline snapped,
"Why? He'll probably forget I exist every time he leaves anyway."
"Save the inner monologue about how you think he's stuck up for the bathroom mirror; right now I'm thinking about money, and I'll be damned if you make me lose it."
"Are you kidding me Addy, he paid only like three-hundred more than the normal price."
"Kise, Aomine is a basketball prodigy, in the near future when he's in the NBA, we could be sponsoring him- or even his whole team."
Oh.
Adeline pushed him down, plugging in her blow dryer, "This is a person you should talk to, whether or not he wants to."
The blonde felt extra light as he approached the second floor of the tattoo parlor, Daiki Aomine would probably be waiting, impatiently. He understood that judging someone before meeting them in the flesh was wrong but Kise had seen the way he acted, and, as an avid basketball fan watched Aomine's progress.
Skipping practice.
Ignoring his coaches.
Not communicating with the team.
Adversely, Aomine made FSU's basketball team; his movements were like boiling water upon skin, so when the Seminoles walked onto the court his presence was immediately recognized. He had uncanny shooting ability and accuracy; sinking three pointers two to three feet from behind the three point line, anywhere on the court. He intimidated those twice the size of him, even challenging centers to one-on-one in the middle of paint. Aomine was antisocial, however, and often kept communication to a bare minimal if he was not close to the other person, because of this his post-game interviews seemed tenacious and cocky, more so than he seemed to actually be.
Kise slowed, finding himself stuck in the middle of the staircase, his heart was fluttering, and he needed to be calm in order to do his work- precisely and professionally.
This is meeting a professional, he thought, this is meeting a person I wanted to be.
- A
Aomine had fallen asleep the second he had laid down; he hadn't expected that the chair would be so comfortable, what he thought was leather sank around his body and fitted against him perfectly. But it was no sooner that he fell asleep that he was awoken. He had expected Adeline, bending over him with light brown hair curled at the ends, and large brown eyes, but instead it was a frail looking guy with delicate features. He seemed to be the same height as Daiki, with light hair pulled back into a sloppy ponytail and tan skin,
"Hey, Aomine," Kise was unsure about calling the college student by his first name; not even his coaches called him Daiki, "I'm Kise Ryouta, we'll be communicating quite a bit these next few weeks."
Aomine squinted up at him, sunlight was bouncing off the white walls of the room, to Aomine Kise was engulfed in a heavenly glow,
"Yo," he paused, "thanks for this."
"Anytime! I'm really excited to be able to work with you,"
Aomine nodded, he was still tired and laid his head back down, he could hear Kise shuffling about in the back, "So, what are you getting this tattoo for?"
"I liked the design," Aomine answered, simply, he was falling asleep again,
"I like it too, Adeline did a great job with this one,"
"I've seen your work too… its good."
Aomine flinched; Kise's hands were on his back, smoothing cream all over his skin. The basketball player tucked his head into his inner elbow,
"Thanks! Its so…"
So... what?
- K
Today was stupid.
Today, he woke up slightly hung over and confused before being chased out of a hotel room.
Today, a renown, and extremely talented basketball player in the SEC, fell asleep while he was getting his tattoo.
Kise sighed; he was near tears.
Today, when Daiki Aomine comes into the parlor he would make sure that he would be asking for Kise's number.
- A
Aomine wasn't sure if he'd call the slight irritation on his back pain, or an itch. Either way, he was becoming increasingly agitated,
"Aomine!"
Aomine looked up, that blonde kid seemed to have an endless amount of energy,
"Hey man."
"You can go on ahead upstairs, don't lay down though! Just take off your shirt!"
"Aight,"
Heaving a sigh the Seminole* headed through the tattoo parlor and up the stairs, by the time he had tossed his shirt onto the floor Kise was bouncing up the stairs,
"Aomine turn around for me,"
The Barbadian remained still.
Did he look this… good, yesterday?
Kise's hair tumbled a few inches past his shoulders; sun kissed, blonde locks flowing down with a wavy texture, held back by a thin headband. His eyelashes casted a shadow across his soft check bones, his teeth glistened, and his lean shoulders held his head and neck high, pristine in the sunlight of the white room. He wore a pair of thick grey sweatpants that hung dangerously off his hips and a striped tank top, he was barefoot, and his bony feet were padded, unscarred with long toes.
"Aomine?" he said, tilting his head to the side and blinking,
"Yeah, sorry," Aomine turned his back to the artist,
"It's fine!" Kise voice was overflowing with emotion; Aomine wondered it was possible to agitate someone so gleeful,
"Okay, today I'll be putting down the rest of the linework… You said you only have about three hours today, so I'm hoping I can get the middle part at least started."
"Yeah, sounds right."
"Are you meeting someone?" The blonde pressed lightly,
"No, have to go to practice."
"Oh," Kise was quiet for a moment, "well you know- practice is something you should go to all the time,"
"Mind your business." Aomine spoke with his face shoved into the leather of the chair; he clipped Kise's comment,
"Ah, sorry."
Kise hadn't uttered a word the rest of their time together; Aomine hadn't meant to intimidate him and fell asleep with his teeth in his lower lip. When the tattoo artist began finishing up, wrapping plastic wrap around Aomine's waist, he offered the basketball player a smile.
"Kise," Aomine began, entranced by the way the other's hair tumbled down his left shoulder, "sorry."
"It's okay, I say too much sometimes." Kise grinned, "And on that note, you should be going to practice."
Aomine snorted, "If you take me to lunch tomorrow I'll go every practice."
"We don't have anything scheduled tomorrow,"
"I know that."
Kise looked surprised, a rosy blush spread across his face, "Okay, well… Let me have your number and I'll give you mine."
Aomine handed him his phone, encased in a heavy armoring, "Put 'tat' next to your name."
"Alright."
The exchange was short and awkward; Aomine found himself staring at Kise again, much to his concern, and tore his eyes away when he handed him back his phone,
"I'll see you tomorrow then?"
"Mhmm," Aomine began putting his shirt back on, "Call me when you get close to campus."
"O-okay!"
He began his exit towards the stairs, staring at his reflection in the wall mirror- and could have sworn he saw Kise jumping around in the background while swinging his neck around like some sort of demented giraffe. He left the shop, skipped practice, and met up with Kuroko and Murasakibara. The image of Kise's hips and lips remained implanted in his memories the rest of the day, his slender limbs and his long eyelashes and-
Shit.
Shit, shit, shit.
R.O.M.A.N.C.E. Let's take it slow; leave a review so I know how everyone feels about this story and so I can check out your stuff too.