Part I
Kagami groaned and covered his head with his pillow, trying to block out the low, repetitive, annoying sound thrumming through the thin walls of the hotel. It was an unmistakable noise, clearly amplified because there was no way in hell it was supposed to be that loud, and while Kagami had to admit to himself it sounded like the producer of the sound was pretty skilled, who in their right mind played guitar in a hotel at two in the morning? Grumbling to himself, he crossed his fingers, hoping the person next door would get their dumb ass thrown out for causing a disturbance, but considering the one-man concert or whatever had been going on for almost thirty minutes uninterrupted, he didn't think the likelihood of that happening was increasing any.
He rolled over, wondering halfheartedly if it would be possible to ignore it and sleep. He was tired; his limbs felt heavy as lead from going all out in the ruthless, grueling game the day before, and his head was already pounding a protest to the persistent strumming filtering through the wall. He had another game in less than two days, which was why he was checked into this crappy hotel in the first place; he needed his rest, and his inconsiderate (though admittedly talented) neighbour seemed to be trying their hardest to keep him from it.
At last, the fraying thread of Kagami's patience snapped, and with a grit-out litany of curses he rolled off the bed, not even taking the time to throw on a shirt. Almost tripping over his own bag as he stumbled in the darkness to the door of the hotel room, he pushed past it and marched right over to the one adjacent to his.
Pounding on the door, he raised his voice in an irritated shout, "Hey, asshole! Shut the hell up or I'm calling the front desk to complain!"
The racket finally, finally ceased, and Kagami breathed a sigh of relief, but then he heard the click of a lock and the door his fist was still resting against swung open, causing him to stagger forward and all but collapse into the person's room. When he straightened, he was met with a pair of hooded dark eyes set into an equally dark face, shadowed by short fringes of darker hair, the glossy blue color of the sheen on a raven's wing. The man was tall; a tiny bit taller than Kagami, even, wearing grey sweats and a loose tank top that did nothing to conceal long, firmly muscled arms, leading down to large hands; one of which held the door open while the other gripped the neck of the jet black guitar leaning idly against his leg.
White teeth showed starkly against that dusky face as the person grinned, those narrow, arrogant eyes roving unnervingly, and not just over Kagami's face, "Come again?" The voice that issued from his throat was smooth and dark, lilting with amusement and cocky rebellion.
Kagami swallowed, a little put off his stride by this stranger that hadn't stopped staring at him for a second since the door was opened, "I uh…" clearing his throat to cover for the response that wasn't as articulate as he would have liked, he made a harsh gesture in the direction of the instrument at the man's side, "You're being way too loud, some of us are trying to sleep." The explanation for his interruption seemed feeble to him now, strangely...it might have been the ringing silence that had followed the previous overabundance of noise, or it might have been the crooked grin that never left the stranger's lips, the ever-moving twilight blue eyes that Kagami swore were trying to devour him whole; he could feel that stare all the way in his marrow.
"Really?" that husky voice dropped an octave, and the man's hand slid down on the neck of his guitar, caressing the silver strings with an audible squeak, drawing Kagami's attention to the thin cables leading away from it, plugged into the amp across the room,"Well, that is a problem, isn't it?"
Kagami couldn't figure out why he seemed so pleased about the whole situation, why that strange, knowing smile never wavered, and he kept sizing Kagami up like he was something to eat. He kind of wished he'd taken the extra two seconds to throw a shirt on before stomping over here, though; those penetrating eyes were making him a little self-conscious, and he could feel embarrassed heat gradually rising to his face.
"Um...well…" he stammered, floundering and scratching his cheek as he tried to remember what point exactly he was trying to make, "C-cut it out, will you?" he finally managed, frustration and annoyance making it into the demand. He saw the man's thin blue eyebrows draw together slightly, but pressed on, "What kind of maniac plays guitar loud enough to shake the walls in the dead of night, in a public place like -"
"Bass." The dark stranger interrupted shortly; his smile had disappeared.
"Huh?" Kagami said blankly, caught completely off-guard.
The man held up the instrument in his hand slightly, frown still in place, "It's a bass guitar, stupid. Anyone with half a brain could tell the difference."
Ruffled, unsure why the note of superiority in this volatile weirdo's voice got under his skin so much, Kagami crossed his arms over his bare chest, "Bass, guitar, ukulele; I don't care what the damn thing is, I just care that it's giving me a headache. So stop it, and let me sleep."
Backing carelessly away from the door, the man shrugged and sank into a chair next to the amplifier leaning against the wall, bringing the bass into his lap, "Would you like a lullaby?" he snickered, fingers teasing a short, brooding melody from the strings, completely disregarding Kagami's affronted look.
"Hey! I said cut that out!"
Ignoring him, the person leaned back slightly, eyes flitting closed, fingers flying and filling the room with a symphony of sound; melancholy yet radiant, mournful yet carefree, reverberating off the walls in ghostly, groaning echoes.
Storming into the room and up to the man lounging in the chair, Kagami raised a hand to...what? Push him out of it? Slap him? Take the instrument from his hands? He lowered it to his side when he realized he didn't know his own intent, and had to shout to make himself heard over the bass's wailing.
"If you don't stop, I'll….I'll kick your ass!"
The bluenette snorted with amusement, and, anger rising like a dark cloud at his insolence, Kagami leaned over and unplugged the cord from the amplifier, taking a step back when the man bared his teeth at him threateningly, not expecting the sudden and drastic drop in volume that almost sounded like total silence in comparison to the ruckus before.
"Bastard -!" the person began, rocking forward as if about to lunge out of his chair, but then he broke off, seeming to regain his composure, still glaring at Kagami with heated, dagger-like eyes.
"I should take this with me," Kagami muttered, indicating the cable in his hand, "Preserve the peace and quiet."
"You wouldn't fucking dare. That's mine." The man's voice was a deadly hiss, and he tried to jerk the cord out of Kagami's hand, only succeeding in pulling him closer to the chair.
He looked like a whole different person when he was angry, Kagami found himself musing, and he felt a tiny surge of satisfaction knowing he was causing him at least a piece of the inconvenience and frustration he'd been causing Kagami for the last half-hour.
The man's furious expression wavered the barest bit as Kagami stared him down, and he thought he caught a glimpse of worry in those blazing dark eyes, for about a split-second, as if he was wondering if Kagami really would just rob him of his equipment to prevent him from continuing with his previous activities.
"Give it back," He lunged for the cord again, but Kagami held it just out of reach, intrigued by that little shift, that little crack in his confidence; despite his arguments with himself that this was stupid, and he should just leave and try to get at least a few hours of sleep...maybe give this guy a punch in the face in parting and see if that let him know Kagami was serious. Part of him was curious about this vehement, multifaceted, noisy stranger.
"Give it back!" the man repeated, more insistently.
"What's your name?" Kagami countered calmly; the question surprising him as much as it surprised his current company.
"Oh, now we're doing introductions?" the bluenette sneered, "After you just about knocked down my fucking door, barged in, and threatened to nab my stuff?" He crossed his arms just over the bridge of the guitar in his lap, huffing a breath, "Aomine Daiki. Now, kindly neighbour, what's yours?"
Ignoring the sarcasm, wondering why he didn't just threaten the rude bastard with some obscene punishment if he made another peep and leave, Kagami sighed resignedly, "Kagami Taiga. I'd say pleasure to meet you, but I think my eardrums are not so charmed."
Dropping his gaze to his lap, cool as a cucumber once again, the person called Aomine strummed his fingers over the bass's strings, lining up his other hand with the fretless neck and coaxing out a low chord, though much quieter and tinnier without the amp magnifying it.
"So, Kagami Taiga, what's with the stick up your ass?" he asked nonchalantly, only the devilish smirk betraying his intent to taunt, "Not a music lover, I take it?"
"I don't have a stick up my ass," Kagami growled, "I think most people would be pissed off, being kept up this late by such obnoxious noise. Liking or not liking music has nothing to do with it."
"Tch, 'obnoxious', I'd call it 'expressive'," Aomine argued, bringing his fingertips down on the strings again, a higher chord spilling out of them at his prompting.
"Expressive my ass, you were keeping the whole hotel up! Why the hell would any sane person blast that racket for anyone to hear at two-thirty in the morning?"
Aomine shrugged, "People get bored. People get lonely. And sometimes, you just gotta raise some hell and see who you piss off along the way."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Kagami thought about it a moment, "You were trying to get attention?"
Aomine's fingers continued to toy with the guitar in his lap, his cunning smile persisting, "Your attention," he said breezily.
Kagami opened his mouth to retort, but then closed it, surprise and then confusion taking him by turns. After a few seconds, he admitted to himself that he was at a loss.
"You're speechless," Aomine smirked, the words accompanied by a trio of deep, smooth notes; deeper and smoother than his voice, "Is it so unbelievable that you might have caught a few eyes, coming here?" Said eyes scanned over Kagami again, appraising silently, to the tuneless, scattered sounds he fondled from those four thin, vibrating strings.
"So, what?" Kagami managed when he finally got his mouth working again, "You wanted my attention -" Which was a weird enough notion in itself; he wanted to ask what on Earth for, "- so you thought you'd just melt my ears off until my only choices were to tell you to shut the fuck up or go prematurely deaf?"
"Mm, not quite," Aomine said lazily, shooting Kagami a look he didn't understand, through piercing, half-lidded eyes, "I guess you could say you inspired me."
Kagami wondered if it was possible to choke on air, "I-inspired?" he sputtered indignantly, propping his hands on his hips, "How so?" Politer than 'What the fuck is that supposed to mean?' but he thought he got that point across.
Aomine seemed very glad he'd asked, and a leer crept across his mouth, "Well," he enunciated slowly, letting the word roll off his tongue almost like a purr, "I saw your game, today."
Kagami blinked, "M-my basketball game?" he stammered. It was just one surprise after another with this guy. He hadn't taken the crass, somewhat odd stranger noodling with a bass guitar in the middle of the night for a basketball fan.
Aomine's lip curled, "No, your T-ball game, of course your basketball game."
"You like basketball?" Once the inane question left his mouth, he felt like the idiot he was (regrettably) often accused of being, and was startled when Aomine laughed out loud in response. It was sudden and loud, harsh and yet strangely, delightfully melodious. He laughed with his whole body, but he was not hysterical; he just put his whole self into his amusement, and it was every bit as dark, rude, sinful, and taunting as he was.
This guy was something else.
"Hell yeah," the dark man finally answered, "Kind of been a love/hate relationship lately, but yeah."
"Do you play?"
Aomine's tone changed slightly when he replied, no longer sounding so amused, "Yeah. A bit."
"Professionally?" Kagami prodded.
"Not anymore."
"You retired?"
"I quit."
Kagami's eyebrows furrowed, "You can't quit on a contract."
Aomine shrugged noncommittally, "Piece of paper, when it comes down to it."
That was either the stupidest or the ballsiest statement Kagami had ever heard.
"Why did you quit?" he asked, not realizing that, in his piquing interest, he'd come even closer to the chair where the other man sprawled...until he found a long, lean finger poking him in the face.
"I think that's my business," Aomine muttered, calmly, but with a dangerous edge that told Kagami not to pry further, "Anyway, back to the muse reaching me and me subsequently stalking you."
Did he have to phrase it like that? "You followed me to the hotel?"
"Sort of. Needed a place to stay the night myself, and by a happy coincidence we ended up in the same area. Once I saw you in the same building, though, I specifically requested I be placed in a room next to you."
"So I could hear the little songbird pouring out his heart and soul?"
Aomine's nose - and whole face - scrunched up in distaste, "Ew, don't say it like that."
"Then don't serenade me at ass-thirty at night!" Kagami exploded, "If you wanted to...what, play one-on-one, or get an autograph, or whatever the hell you're after, you could've -"
The sleek, wolfish look returned to Aomine's face, as if it had never left, and, distractedly, his fingers jumped nimbly along the guitar strings again, bringing out an inquisitive little melody, "One-on-one? Maybe. Autograph? Shove it up your ass." His expression brightened a little, a smirk edging the corner of his mouth, "And, speaking of...the reason I followed you here…"
He didn't need to add that last bit; Kagami had already started to feel trepidation when he started speaking. And he didn't think he was going to like where this was going, but still he stayed where he was, physical exhaustion and the cord he still held loosely in his hand forgotten. Maybe it turned out this Aomine person had yet more faces he hadn't shown, and, against his better judgment, Kagami was intrigued. The man might have been unbearably arrogant, rude, rebellious, and loud, but he was also talented, interesting, and a fan of basketball...a former professional player like himself. Kagami supposed he'd earned the chance to turn this night that had started with insomnia, aggravation, and a burgeoning migraine around.
TBC
((What am I doing...why am I leaving this in more than one part, I've got enough stories in progress as it is. It's official...I'm incapable of writing a one-shot, I get way too carried away. Yeah….I don't even know what's happening anymore, I just liked the idea of Aomine playing bass, and this happened.
Procrastinating continuing my other stories, and squandering my summer freedom…ought to lead to a lot of pointless experiments like this. Not sure if I like how it's shaping up, but feedback would be appreciated nonetheless.
-Shinsun))