Written for cimberelly (because she's been sick and AoKise makes everything better) and the 30 Day Cheesy Trope Challenge - Day 2 - Idol/Fan


Aomine Daiki had a secret.

It was an embarrassing secret, which was why the only person who knew was Satsuki, because hiding anything from her was literally impossible. To be clear, it wasn't like he'd told her – it was just that he assumed that she knew, because she always knew everything about him - but she had the good grace not to say anything about the unusual collection.

There was a set of magazines and photobooks that were hidden in his room which Daiki had no intention of letting anyone know that he owned.

The collection was not complete – he was missing a few older appearances from the idol's early work – but it was fairly close.

He'd never intended to become a fan of Kise Ryouta's, but somehow it had happened. He'd happened upon him when he'd bought a magazine for a completely different idol's appearance in it, and when he'd first come across him, he'd stared for at least five minutes before he realised he was:

a) staring at a boy

b) he probably the prettiest boy he'd ever seen

and

c) he wanted to see more of this boy.

He was pretty mortified, even as he sat at his computer and started searching online for Kise Ryouta's appearances. It wasn't long until he came across fansites and forums, even though from what he could gather Kise Ryouta hadn't been modelling for very much time at all. According to fans, though, he was very athletic, and had joined, excelled in, and then left, several clubs. There was no consensus about which clubs he had and had not yet tried, but Daiki was fairly sure he hadn't tried basketball after he'd finished his searching.

He'd also discovered that Kise Ryouta was the same age as he was (it seemed so impossible, somehow), and that they even attended the same school.

He wasn't sure how he'd never heard of him before, but all of a sudden, when he was at school the next day, Kise Ryouta was the only thing he heard about. Girls giggled about him, whispered as he walked by; and even when he wasn't all made and dressed up, Kise Ryouta was undeniably a beautiful boy.

But there was something confusing about him to Daiki, as he watched Kise Ryouta walk past the first string gymnasium. He was popular and gorgeous and athletic, so why did he look so bored?

Kise Ryouta took the same path through the school to leave every afternoon, past the baseball field and the first string's gymnasium, and usually always around the same time. Daiki always watched, taking a moment from playing under the pretence that he needed to take a drink from his water bottle. It was the closest he ever let himself get to him; somehow he felt awkward, overly conscious of the fact that Kise Ryouta was the kind of idol whose fans were girls and he... very much wasn't.

But he should have known that he'd run out of self-control. He had a ball nestled in his arm as he drank and watched Kise Ryouta walk past, one afternoon, and before he even had a chance to think about what a bad idea it was, he was already crooking his arm to throw it at him, his aim utterly and inevitably perfect.

Kise Ryouta was much less perfect than the images Daiki collected of him; he was louder and dumber and more annoying than Daiki had imagined him. But his athleticism was the real deal, and he was stupid pretty, and even though they were team mates and friends, Daiki still shamefully collected Kise's work.

Even when basketball began to suck, and even after the Teikou team fractured and fell apart, Daiki continued to add Kise's new work to his collection, though the continued maintenance of it was tinged with a painful sadness that he preferred to ignore.


(Aomine Daiki was sixteen years old the first time he got off to the image of his friend and ex-teammate, with his head full of fierce golden eyes and the insane, impossible recreations of skill and movement and reflex and talent burnt into the back of his eyes –

And the only thing he could think after he'd cleaned up was I really should have been expecting this)


The thing about secrets that become as large as Daiki's collection of Kise Ryouta's works is that eventually they get uncovered.

There weren't exactly a lot of places to hide his collection of Kise. The basketball magazines featuring Kise could be passed off pretty easily – he had the corresponding ones for all his ex-teammates, and they all sat together on the shelf with his other basketball magazines. His other large collection, his Horikita Mai books, lived under his bed.

Inevitably, the Kise collection ended up in the cupboard where his basketball shoes lived, although it was hidden inside a few shoeboxes for Jordans that he'd had to chuck because they'd seen so much use that they'd fallen apart. That was fine, except that in the year or two that passed between their friendship in junior high and their renewed friendship in high school, Daiki forgot that you should never leave Kise alone anywhere because:

a) Kise gets bored easily

and

b) Kise is fundamentally nosy as fuck.

And so it was that after they spent an afternoon playing basketball, and Daiki managed to claim the first shower, he returned to his bedroom to find Kise going through the hidden contents of the shoeboxes which no longer housed Jordans.

He was frozen in the doorframe, staring at Kise as he flicked through the magazines and books. This... was beyond mortifying. Daiki had never experienced the kind of moment where you want the ground to swallow you whole before.

It was not a feeling that he particularly wanted to experience again, though whether he would have the opportunity to or not depended on if he managed to spontaneously combust or not. It certainly felt like he was about to burst into flames, with how hot his face felt.

Kise was pretty much the single person he had never wanted to find out.

For pretty much the first time in his life, he couldn't meet Kise's eye when he looked up at the door. He couldn't look at him at all. He waited to hear Kise say something, waited to hear him make some kind of teasing remark about Daiki being a fan – and he obviously was, because Daiki knew that a number of the items in there couldn't be found anymore, and his collection was pretty painstakingly up kept, and big, and old.

(Because he didn't look at Kise, he didn't see the way Kise's ears and cheeks were pink, or the way that Kise was as equally speechless as he was.)

The silence dragged.

"Say something," Daiki muttered. "Say whatever it is you want to say already."

He heard Kise take a breath, and he braced himself for the inevitable teasing.

"...You're missing a few things. Not many though."

Daiki was startled enough that he forgot himself and looked at Kise. Kise, who was looking away from him and into the damn closet that he shouldn't have been peeking inside in the first place.

Somehow, the lack of teasing made it worse. He groaned and walked into his room, careful not to step on any of the magazines or pictures that Kise had spread out over his floor and collapsed face down on his bed.

"You've followed my career for a while," Kise said, and his voice was surprisingly quiet.

"Yeah."

The pause was deafening, and then—

"I knew you threw that ball at me!"

The strangled noise that escaped Daiki's throat was unfortunate. "That's what you got from this?"

Kise laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. "Well, it bothered me, you know? I was always like, how did the basketball hit me? But it didn't make sense for Aominecchi to have thrown it at my head, even if you did know who I was."

Daiki groaned. "I want to die."

He heard Kise stand up and walk over and then there was a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm really surprised, though. Aominecchi never seemed like the type." He paused, and Daiki peeked at him. There was a gentle smile on Kise's pink face. "It's okay, you know, Aominecchi. I'm not mad."

"Of course you're not," Daiki muttered. "You live for this shit."

Kise hummed. "I'm going to shower now, Aominecchi."

He sat up and frowned. "At least put them all back you snoop!"

The only answer he received was Kise's giggles as he slipped out of Daiki's room.

"...shit."


Daiki had almost expected things to change between them when Kise discovered his collection, but the only thing that seemed to change was that he felt even more self-conscious about the maintenance of it, knowing that Kise knew that he would be buying the things he appeared in. But not once did Kise send a teasing message, or a reminder about an appearance in something – it almost made Daiki feel paranoid, because Kise was usually pretty insufferable and he should have been running on Aominecchi-is-one-of-my-fanboys material for months.

But almost as if he'd never found the collection at all, Kise didn't mention it, and Daiki was still far too embarrassed to bring it up.

So it sort of awkwardly sat between them, and whenever they met up, they both kind of ignored it.

That was, until one afternoon when Kise begged an afternoon of basketball out of him. Honestly, Daiki had been avoiding playing one-on-one with Kise for a while, because it was just so much effort, playing basketball and pretending that he didn't have a huge collection of Kise's modelling work in his room that Kise knew about and also pretending he didn't have a super massive thing for Kise.

It tired him out just thinking about it.

But Kise was nothing if not the most persistent, annoying (endearing, magnetic) person Daiki had ever met, not to mention stubborn and spoiled and used to getting his way, so Daiki ended up at the basketball court, and...

Kise was bouncing and looking way too happy just to be playing basketball with him.

This was it. Kise was about to give him hell, and Daiki was going to have to sit through it and contemplate a murder-suicide.

(He wondered if he would be able to convince Kagami to hide him in America. They weren't really that good friends, but maybe he could convince him to do it for Tetsu's sake...)

"I got something nice for you~" Kise sang, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "But you'll have to win it off me!"

"Might as well give it to me now, then," Daiki said, "since you're not going to beat me."

Kise pouted. "Rude, Aominecchi. I'm definitely going to win today!"

He snorted, and spun his ball on his fingertip. "Yeah, yeah."

So, Kise was actually pretty good to play against these days, with that copy of his; the fact was that while Aomine won more than he lost, he did still lose sometimes – but he always ended the day having won more rounds than Kise, so he was still considered the winner.

It was annoying that this meant that he'd have to wait until the end of the day to get the thing that Kise had gotten for him, but since he wasn't entirely sure what it was, and that he would want it, anyway, it didn't bother him too much, though it stuck in the back of his brain.

As the sky began to turn orange, he grinned at Kise, who had lost their final game, and was breathing heavily, his legs shaking, sweat dripping from his hair. He was sweaty and tired too, but he was still in a better state than Kise, and he'd won more than Kise, and he felt good.

"Okay," Kise groaned. "Let's go back and shower."

Daiki shrugged. He doubted Kise had forgotten about his prize, since he'd been so excited. But he'd waited all day, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to wait any longer.

"What about my prize, pretty boy?" he asked, slinging an arm over Kise's shoulders.

"After I shower," Kise whined. "I feel gross, please let me shower Aominecchi."

"Fine, fine," Daiki laughed, "but I'm not going to forget, if that's what you're hoping for."

Kise insisted on being the first to shower this time; unfortunately, Daiki's mother was home, and he couldn't just forcibly shove Kise away from the bathroom to get at it first.

"Is Kise-kun going to stay for dinner, Daiki?" she asked as he settled on the couch to wait for Kise to finish in the bathroom.

"Don't know," he mumbled, toying with his basketball. "Maybe."

She hummed. "I'll cook for him too, then. I can always count on you to eat the leftovers if he doesn't stay."

For once, Kise didn't take three hours in the bathroom – this was why Daiki showered first - and came to fetch him. "Bathroom's free, Aominecchi."

"Mmm." He pulled himself upright and sighed as his mother asked if Kise was staying for dinner.

"I wouldn't want to impose," he heard Kise answer as he walked out.

Kise was sitting on his bed flicking through the basketball magazine which had featured Seirin after their Winter Cup win when he finished showering. He looked up and smiled before digging into his bag.

"So, you know, Aominecchi, I noticed you were missing a few things, so I tried to track some down for you."

At first, Daiki wasn't entirely sure what Kise was referring to, but then it hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Oh my god." He wasn't sure if he was feeling embarrassed or excited – it was a weird and very unsettling sensation. "Kise..."

"I mean, it wasn't really that hard, there's always spares somewhere at the agency even for the older things and I mean, there's the things that I have which were retired from my portfolio for newer and better things, so it's not like I went super out of my way or anything, but I just—"

"Kise."

He hadn't thought that just saying his name would make him shut up because it never had in the past; Daiki hadn't even yelled it this time, but still Kise stopped speaking, his cheeks and ears pink as he slid the things free from his bag, and wordlessly offered them to Daiki.

Daiki felt nervous as he took the proffered things gently from Kise's hands, and as he got closer, he realised Kise smelled different, and raised an eyebrow at him.

"You smell..."

"Ah." Somehow, Kise went pinker. "W-well, I forgot mine..."

Oh.

What was he supposed to do? Kise was driving him crazy, Kise smelled like his soap, had given him something precious and he was pink and embarrassed, so it made perfect sense to Daiki to put the pictures on his bedside table and take Kise's face between his hands and kiss him senseless.

Kise made a startled noise, and Daiki almost had the stomach-dropping horror moment of oh shit I totally fucked up didn't I and started to back away, but then there was a hard grip on his neck pulling him back and down on top of him and instead of terror flooding his body with ice there was something altogether more hot running through his veins.

God, kissing Kise was so much better in reality than in his head. He was warm under his body and hands, and even though he was under him, Kise was just as demanding as always, digging one of his hands into his back and then fisting in his shirt while the other kept it's hard grasp on Daiki's neck, making him unable to back out even if he wanted to, and Kise's tongue was flicking and rubbing against his and his teeth were biting his lip and fuck.

He broke from the kiss only because Kise let go of his neck, and because he needed to breathe. Kise was flushed but he looked happy, and not at all upset by their impromptu kisses.

"I'm glad," he said quietly. "I wasn't sure."

"Idiot," Daiki muttered, letting himself drop onto Kise's chest. He felt Kise's breath be pushed out of him by his landing, but didn't get back up.

"Can I take this as Aominecchi's confession? Or will I have to do it?"

"Fuck off, Kise."

"I guess it's up to me then. Aominecchi, I—mmf!"

He really didn't think his heart could take any more today. Fortunately, he had just discovered a very enjoyable way of making Kise shut the fuck up.