written for basketballpoetsociety's #36 Amnesty Round (challenge #24, "rarepairs")


Everyone expected them to end up together, really.

In the most peripheral edges of their minds, unfettered by their all-consuming loves of basketball and not entirely unconscious of the other types of romanticism all around them, Aomine and Momoi were aware of this.

Aomine alternated between snorting and laughing uproariously when some actually tried to bring it up, before disappearing quite pointedly beneath his gravure magazines. Momoi would differ, caught between her own naiveté and the not unreasonableness of their assumptions (if, still rather rude).

But, truth be told: she was there for him all throughout school, and he would be for her thereafter. She would nag at him about the un-trustworthiness of his latest cinch whilst he quite happily punched out any of her more unappreciative beaus.

They don't know about anyone else, but this is them, this is their relationship

and this is the way it always has been.


AN: their brotp-ness is underappreciated, me thinks.