Notes & Disclaimer: And then I wrote this despite the fact that I'm not confident about writing about AoKaga at all. :P
But well, it's for AoKaga Day, so what the hell.
Thanks in advance for reading it! :)
Oh, and of course, KnB belongs to Fujimaki-sensei. May he be blessed forever for that!
As long as we are not awake
"I love you, Bakagami."
The words sounded like a bell, ringing loud inside his head, as he heard them. They hit him in the stomach, somehow. It was a kind of good punch, though. One that made everything twirl, and twist inside of him. That stole his breath. That made him feel as though his belly was full of hyperactive butterflies.
That made his body stiffen under the heavy tanned body on top of him.
That made him open his eyes. Open them wide.
One that led him to find out that the bastard who had mumbled those very words was heavy asleep. That he was drooling, even.
And absolutely unconscious of what he had just confessed.
They had been in that kind of game for weeks. A game of being together, but denying it. A game of avoidance, where they kept themselves from labeling whatever the heck was going on between them.
They weren't the type of guys who talked about things, after all. And it worked for the both of them. Or so they told themselves.
That kind of game consisted of meeting up for one-on-ones that became frequent, and addictive. It included insisting on one-on-ones that would always give way to a round two.
Out of the court.
Most likely, in his bed.
But also, very often, in every corner of his big apartment.
That kind of game included them fucking as though their lives depended on it. Thoroughly, madly. While cursing and arguing and kissing and grinding.
They didn't talk about it. They usually didn't talk about things, no. They barked at one another. They fought about everything – inside and outside the court.
Who's gonna win. Who's gonna top who. Who's gonna come first.
They didn't talk about feelings and stuff.
Not when they were awake, anyhow.
He tried to steady his breath. If he didn't, that asshole might wake up. Maybe he would even ask him why was his heart beating so fast.
Perhaps, he would look right at him and notice his face was as red as it felt hot.
He would tease him.
And fuck, he wouldn't be able to deny. Anything.
They weren't the type of guys who gave a lot of thought to things. He wasn't one to usually think things through. He enjoyed the ace's company, damn, he loved playing him. He liked having sex with him more than he would ever admit to anyone, even to himself. But he didn't give those things much thought, no.
And it worked for him. Or so he had thought.
But now those words muttered during that idiot's sleep were crashing every sense of security he had ever believed he had.
They were making him realize that maybe, just maybe, they should talk about it.
Making him realize that maybe (more likely, definitely), he felt the same way, too.
And it was okay to confess.
As long as they weren't both awake.
"I love you, too, Ahomine."
The words were murmured against the tanned ear, and brushed it along with his shallow breathing.
He didn't notice how the strong body on top of his stiffened.
He had his eyes closed again, so he didn't see how that pair of blue ones stared at him in utter shock.
He didn't witness the smirk that threatened to draw itself on his partner's face, only to fade away before it did.
Because it didn't matter how he had gotten him to utter such a confession, was what Aomine thought as he heard him.
He was also satisfied they were on the same page.