The things we bury in bullsh*t:
The moment the ball left Kise's hand he already knew he'd blown it.
Sure enough, the ball sailed across the court, hit the rim with an unsatisfying clang, before bouncing off and hitting the tarmac of the court. Kise watched the ball roll until it hit the fence and stopped. It looked like it was moping. The blonde could empathize. He'd done nothing but mope for days.
It was bad enough that he now carried the weight of his entire team's failure in the interhigh on his shoulders, but the fact that his mind seemed to be filled with nothing but images of a smug looking Aomine really pissed him the hell off. He couldn't think of what he could have done to deserve this. (Though if he asked, Kasamatsu would probably have plenty of suggestions for him on that front.)
Reluctantly he plodded over to the ball and picked it up. It seemed about twice as heavy as it had been moments before. Everything was heavy. It felt like he was slogging through mud.
Too damn slow he thought as he began to dribble the ball You've always been too damn slow to keep up with him.
The look Aomine had given him during their last standoff was burned into his mind. He'd given everything he had to stand up against that look, put everything into making the perfect copy. But it hadn't been enough. He was right. The only one who could beat Aomine was Aomine himself…
The ball slipped from his hands, but he didn't notice. His throat was burning, and no matter how many times he swallowed the sensation wouldn't go away. Even with the support of the entire team you couldn't take him you miserable bastard he thought You let them all down. They were counting on you and you just…failed.
There was a sharp pain in his face, and he realized it was because his teeth had broken through his lip. "I hate this!" he screamed, the bottled rage exploding out of him with a sudden yet furious intensity.
His words echoed through the court, seeming to mock him. Even his anger sounded weak to his ears. But before the last reverberations of it had ended there was a new voice.
"If playing solo really bothers you that much I suppose it wouldn't kill me to be your partner for a few minutes."
No. No way. Kise blinked as he swiveled around. He couldn't believe it, because life couldn't be so cruel as to throw the grinning bastard back into his face so soon. But the universe didn't seem to care what he thought about the matter, because the next moment Aomine was waltzing through the court entrance with that typical swagger of confidence of his.
"Your playing's on par with that of a three legged donkey dying of prostate cancer," the dark haired boy mused with a knowing glint in his eye "I wonder what's got you so bothered up to affect you so."
"You," Kise blurted, the shock at the other boy's appearance allowing such a revealing response to leave his lips. It took him only a moment to realize his mistake but at that point it was already too late. Aomine was already grinning like a shark, "Is that so?"
Kise wanted to douse himself in alcohol, light himself on fire, and then promptly launch himself off the tallest building in japan. Alas, this dying wish would go unfulfilled due to his tragic lack of both alcohol and high altitudes at that moment. He would be forced to (Kise took a huge breath) deal with it. Life, the blonde decided, was a cruel, cruel mistress.
"Please let this just be a nightmare," he whispered as the dark haired boy drew closer until he stopped right in front of him. While Kise felt like an overblown tire, Aomine appeared to ooze confidence from every pore. Lazily, the boy reached out, seized a good amount of Kise's butt flesh, and pinched.
"What the hell?" Kise shrieked, leaping back and slapping a hand over the sudden sharp pain. Aomine chuckled, "Not a nightmare then…"
"You ass!" Kise growled, staring daggers at the boy. Unfazed, Aomine merely bent down and scooped the ball into his hands, "You just going to stand around lookin' pretty, or are you going to play me?"
Kise's mouth, though open, said nothing. Aomine grinned, "That's what I thought."
Kise snapped his teeth together and growled, "Fuck you Aominnechi."
Aomine let the ball bounce once, twice, three times before he glanced up and speared Kise with the power of his eyes, "Actually, as I recall from the last game we played together it was I that thoroughly fucked you."
That was it. Kise had reached his breaking point the moment Aomine had showed his smug face, but now he was so far past that it was laughable. And because of that he couldn't have stopped his next movement had he been given all the money and medals in the world. Kise's body slammed into Aomine's at the approximate velocity of holy-crapping-fuck-there's-gonna-be-some-broken-ribs-fo'-sure. Needless to say they both went down like a sack of coconuts in 10 times earth's gravity. But only a moment after they hit the grimy asphalt, Aomine was rolling atop of the blonde. Kise tried to assert his control over the situation, but Aomine put an end to that by straddling his body and slamming his wrists into the ground. "From the look of your reaction I'd say you remember pretty well too," Aomine grunted, still managing to smile despite their struggling.
Kise wanted to hit him. He wanted to hit him so badly it made his teeth ache. For more than two years he had trailed desperately behind the man on top of him. Not once had he ever gotten the upper hand, not even as a fluke. Basketball had been the first sport to light a fire in him and it was all because of this boy with the burning eyes. But as good as it was at banishing his boredom and inciting him with passion, those eyes were even better at instilling in him the blind fury he no longer had the strength to handle. To be on par with Aomine…that's all he'd wanted for so long. Every time he'd eaten or slept or breathed in the past few years had been for Aomine and the chance to stand with him as an equal on the court. But he hadn't managed it. Because despite his best efforts, Aomine shone as brightly as the sun and Kise felt like he was only a dim planet circling it-unable to come too close without burning up into a pile of space ash. And yet he found himself drawn too strongly toward that burning brightness. He knew it would destroy him, would burn him beyond recognition, and still he drew closer. It felt like every moment of these past few years had led him here, hurdling him closer and closer to the flaring inferno that was Aomine. And now, looking up at the boy on top of him he realized at once both how stupid and powerless that made him.
Aomine's head dropped so that his forehead cracked down on the blonde's. His grin was still there, if anything it had grown even wider, but Kise didn't see it. He couldn't see anything but the burning coals of his eyes.
No, he couldn't hit him, not with the way his hands and hips were pinned down. So he did the only other thing he could possibly do in that moment—he shot up, lunging forward with the upper half of his body, snagged Aomine's lips between his, and kissed him.
For just a moment the grips on Kise's wrists loosened, and the blonde felt an overpowering surge of rightness flood his stomach. Aomine's lips, slack as they were in surprise, were unbearably soft. So soft that Kise thought he would break from it. So this was it his mind thought, trailing uselessly behind the much larger feeling rushing through him all this time it was this.
But that epiphany lasted all of 0.2 microseconds because the next moment the grips on his wrists became iron bars, and his mouth was attacked with a ferocity he could only ever have associated with the Aomine he'd spent so long watching.
The rough concrete beneath Kise scratched at his skin, opening up tears in the flesh, but he didn't feel it. He could only feel that heat, burning like flaming metal against his skin in every place Aomine touched. "Fuck," Aomine snarled, wrenching kise's head back by his hair and scraping his teeth against the boy's lips and jaw, "If I'd known you wanted this I would've done this fucking centuries ago!"
His breath huffed against Kise's heated skin, causing his toes to curl and his hips to buck up beneath the taller boy's. "Aominechi," he groaned, hunting for the other boy's lips feverishly, but they were nowhere to be found, possibly because they were currently engaged in doing obscene things to his ear. Kise felt a slice of hot wet tongue in his ear canal, causing him to shudder with the kind of violence that would have thrown off a weaker man. As it was, the movement only seemed to enflame the ace player to greater heights as expressed by the hand that thrust itself, quite indelicately, into the space between Kise's legs. The breath left the blonde in a strangled hiss as the majority of his neurons short circuited at the sensation, but before he could stage a total cerebral collapse, Aomine glued his mouth back down on the blonde's and kissed him like he was trying to suck out and dominate his soul. Kise groaned, the sound originating from somewhere deep in his chest as his mouth fell open beneath the onslaught. Aomine, being the flagrant opportunist that he was, wasted no time in deepening the kiss beyond the realms of mere mortals. It became apparent to the drowning blonde that even a kiss between a pair of generation of miracles members was a crushing force to be reckoned with. Not that he was in the position to complain. In fact, he wasn't in the position to do much of anything other than squirm and groan as Aomine's hands converged on him seemingly from everywhere. One hand yanked up his jersey to expose goose fleshed skin, while the other seized tight hold of Kise's rear, gaining the hold necessary to properly grind down on Kise's hips with the type of friction that would as soon kill him as make him orgasm.
"Ao-mi-ne" Kise gasped, hands scrabbling to knot themselves in the burning boy's hair. All he knew was that if even a single inch of his flesh was not pressed against Aomine's body immediately he would die. Aomine seemed to sense this, because he began to tear suddenly at the other boys clothes with a fervor Kise had only ever seen matched on the court.
"Wait," Kise hissed, as Aomine yanked at the boy's waistband, "You can't—not out here!"
"Watch me!" Aomine snarled, sinking his teeth into Kise's neck, causing the blonde's back to arch him up into the boy on top of him. Kise's breath left him in ragged rasps as he felt any semblance of decency crumble around him. He knew he had to stop the dark haired boy. They were in an outdoor park open to the public, and even though there was no one here now in the late hour, someone could easily walk by at any moment. He had to gain control. He had to. But the mental reserve for such a gesture was beyond him. He couldn't have pushed Aomine away for any reason the world held. He was a drug, and Kise was the addict. But despite that knowledge, the blonde made one more half-assed attempt.
"We shouldn't…we really—"
"I don't give a rat fuck about propriety you gorgeous little shit," Aomine spat, raising himself briefly in order to yank Kise's boxers to his knees, "I—fuck, you're gorgeous."
Kise colored brilliantly as Aomine's burning gaze washed over him. The way he looked at him…it was as though he were being devoured from the inside out. There was nothing for several moments besides their ragged breathing and Aomine's intense stare, but then the taller boy's eyes squeezed close before shuddering with near violence. "Kise…" he groaned, and for the first time in the history of competitive basketball Aomine sounded broken—like the need inside of him was far too great to hold without splitting apart. And that scared Kise. He hadn't thought there was anything in the world that Aomine couldn't handle with his signature smile and attitude. But right now that smirk was nowhere to be seen, and if Kise's lust clogged mind was to be believed, it hadn't been on the boy's face for quite a while now.
Kise's breath hitched in his throat as the palm of Aomine's hand, hot, dry, and rough with calluses closed around his shaft for the first time. Even had he imagined it, and he had never allowed himself such a thing, he doubted he could have pictured this—this mind melting pleasure that was twisting his brain into slop and making sweat trail down his thighs. But then Aomine's hand moved, and that was far too much. Kise threw his head back, cracking it against the asphalt, as he let out a whimper that would have mortified him had he been any less crazed than he was now. But it didn't matter. The only thing that made any sense at all were the hands that were touching him and the need to keep those hands touching him.
"Please!" Kise didn't even know what he was asking, but he was begging for it, "Please, god just- please!"
"Don't worry," Aomine growled, unbuckling his own belt as he continued to work Kise with his hand, "Even a bullet to the head wouldn't stop me now."
Kise whined sharply as aomine pushed his hips back down atop his own. But now there was something different—there were no clothes between them where they touched. Aomine hissed like someone had jammed a 1000 volt live wire up his ass, and Kise mirrored the sound with equal fervor.
His nails dug deeply into Aomine's neck and back as the taller boy began to grind atop them, their twin erections, slick with sweat and their own desire, setting off sparks of aching hedonistic pleasure as they slipped past each other, trapped as they were against the other's stomach.
Kise's mind was spinning too fast and his breath was out of control—too fast and shallow to be effective. Everything was beginning to blur as a heat like something solid built to incredible levels in the pit of his abdomen. It would explode soon. He could feel it, and he sure as hell wasn't ready for it.
"Aominechi!" He cried, fingers raking over the other boy's shoulders, needing to hold him tighter than anything his human body could handle, "I—I"
"I know," Aomine huffed collapsing atop the blonde even as his hips continued to move, "I'm close too. I'm so damn close and we've only just…shit." He grabbed Kise's chin and forcibly kissed him, pushing Kise's head back to the limits of his neck as he molested his mouth just as the tremors began to start.
With a startled cry, the tight bundle of heat in Kise's abdomen exploded and then he was coming, and the blood was roaring in his ears with a pounding that would deafen him, and everything was burning and collapsing and in the middle of all of it was Aomine—Aomine who was stiffening and then crying out and as Kise felt the boy pulse against his stomach his brain shorted out and then there was nothing but the sensations that would be the end of everything.
It was only after the waves of pleasure dwindled down to occasional spurts that Kise's thoughts returned to him. It was then that he remembered that he was lying bonelessly across the cement court in the middle of the great outdoors. But he couldn't care. He couldn't even begin to muster up the energy to care for such a trivial matter when he caught hold of the words that were actually leaving Aomine's mouth.
But the string of words was actually just one word repeated over and over again, like a mantra. "Ryouta," Aomine breathed, the soft warmth of it pillowed across Kise's neck, "Ryouta, my Ryouta."
There shouldn't have been any more room left for shock, but there was, but Kise didn't allow that to stop him from wrapping the dark haired boy tight enough to cut off circulation to those wonderfully talented limbs of his.
There were so many things Kise wanted to say to the boy—things about their past and their present. Things about basketball and things that had nothing to do with the sport. Things that described the bright burning flame in his heart, and the things Aomine's eyes did to that flame, but he had neither the breath nor the words to describe any of those things, so instead he buried his face in the boy's shoulder and finally allowed himself to feel the things he'd wanted all along.