Chapter 1

They were in unspoken agreement that they would both keep their mouths shut. It was an embarrassing enough subject just between the two of them, without the hassle and chore of spreading it around, and besides, it wasn't as if they were dating or anything. They just...sometimes went out to dinner together, because it was cheaper that way, or played a friendly (or not-so-friendly) game of basketball. And sometimes, just sometimes, Kagami would wind up on his back or his hands and knees on their bed with Aomine buried balls-deep inside him. No big deal.

How and why exactly they'd started screwing was a little unclear. When Kagami had left high school behind, he'd firmly thought that he wouldn't be seeing Aomine again any time soon, but lo and behold, he'd only had to walk a few steps into his new dorm room, a box of his belongings in hand, to run straight into an infuriatingly familiar, smirking tan face, attached to a long, limber body already sprawled out on the only bed in the room.

At first, he'd thrown a fit over having his idiot high school rival as a roommate; of all the infernal, evil curses to be saddled with, he thought he must have done something to seriously piss off the fates to earn this brutal of a punishment. Scowling, he had stubbornly set up his bedding on the floor, refusing to share a bed with the asshole, but one miserable night spent tossing and turning and one grueling day of college with heavy eyelids and an aching back was enough to easily cure him of that resolution, and afterwards he'd ruefully claimed the side by the window, hoping Aomine wouldn't push him out of it in his sleep. Of course the bastard hogged the blankets, talked in his sleep, snored like a jackhammer, and drooled, but eventually Kagami was deadened to all of that, and didn't even grumble to himself resentfully as he drifted to sleep anymore.

He still thought the whole arrangement was complete and total bullshit, and he should ask to switch roommates with someone else in the dorm, but he'd missed his chance, and he supposed it could have been worse. At least they already knew each other so they didn't have to endure tedious and awkward introductions, and at least they shared a common interest that would hopefully keep the chances of them murdering each other rather low. Of course, they still butted heads, over things as stupid as Aomine leaving his underwear hanging on the back of the only chair they owned ("the laundry basket is two steps away, you lazy piece of shit!"), or Kagami using Aomine's toothbrush and forgetting to rinse it off ("it was too dark to tell them apart!"). For the most part, though, they got along fine, when they weren't snapping at each others' heels and poking each other in the face, and on the basketball court, as always, they were splendidly in synch.

Somewhere along the line, hormones and rivalry had, perhaps inevitably, blurred into tension and attraction, and in a dizzying turn of events Kagami found himself being the giver and recipient of many a handjob, and much more, from the very person he'd sworn on his basketball shoes to oppose and despise for the rest of his natural-born life. It was almost scary how easily it had happened, though; how neither of them had questioned it until they were both sweating and panting and covered in each others' seed.

Arguments had become a daily - sometimes hourly - routine between the two of them. This time, it was over Aomine bouncing a basketball against the wall annoyingly while Kagami was trying and failing to study for an upcoming and much-dreaded test.

"Would you fucking stop that?" he snapped without turning around, focusing on the pencil he had pressed so hard to the page it was leaving indentations; he had read the last line at least seven times, the words bypassing his brain without comprehension, registering as straight gibberish.

For a moment, the hollow, repetitive thudding of the ball fell silent….and then started right back up again, undaunted. Kagami whirled around in his seat, a vein pulsing in his forehead, "Oi, Aho! I said cut that out!"

"But I'm booored," Aomine complained, shoving the ball against the plaster again, where Kagami could see a shallow dent was starting to form.

Standing up so fast he knocked over the chair, he stormed over to the idiot and snatched the culprit for the damage (and his burgeoning headache) out of his hands, "Look what you're doing, dumbass! We can't afford to have that fixed!"

"Hey, give that back." Aomine protested, sitting up and holding out his hands in a demanding gesture for the ball clenched in Kagami's own.

"Why, so you can keep making a racket and get both of us thrown out? Hell no." As usual, he remained the only voice of reason aboard this sinking ship.

Aomine's immature pout disappeared and his eyes glittered sinfully, "I'll show you a racket."

His intent sailed right over Kagami's head, but he didn't doubt for a moment that he wouldn't like whatever the moron had in mind, regardless; Aomine's knowledge of how to piss him off was extensive, and only growing longer and more detailed by the day.

"What are you on about this time?" he scowled, propping the offending basketball against his hip.

"Nothing," Aomine replied instantly, a slow smirk stretching his mouth.

Kagami heaved a long-suffering sigh and tossed the basketball into the laundry basket across the room, easily making the shot, "This is why you're a moron."

"Not as moronic as others I could name," came the immediate, careless retort.

"Asshole."

"Guilty," Aomine shrugged, looking not in the least so.

"Why do I put up with you, you're such a pain in the ass," Kagami muttered, turning and setting the chair back on its legs, preparing to get back to work.

"Because I'm an irresistibly charming basketball and sex god?" Aomine suggested smoothly.

Kagami sputtered indignantly and whipped back around, staring at his grinning, lounging roommate as if he'd sprouted a second head. His arrogance and occasional narcissism blew him away sometimes, and he wondered for the hundredth time how on Earth the egotistical idiot kept both feet on the ground with his head so full of hot air.

"...It's official, I've lost my fucking mind," he decided after a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose in defeat. Giving up on trying to cram for the test, he sat down heavily beside Aomine, not moving his hand from his face.

"Aw, don't take it too hard, Bakagami," Aomine teased, voice sober and deadpan, poking his cheek, "You can't lose what you don't have."

"Bastard!" Kagami snarled, tackling him and intending to punch him right in his stupid face for yet another tasteless insult at his expense, but he didn't get that far.

Aomine leaned up to meet him with a leer and grabbed a fistful of his hair, bringing their lips crashing together. It was sudden, it was rough, and it left no room for questions or protests. And after a split-second's paralyzing shock, the burn of Kagami's anger melted away in the face of something much hotter, much more demanding, something that had him grinding his mouth against Aomine's, pressing for control of the unexpected, almost violent kiss. He refused to give in and submit to him, and his only other choice was to fight back.

So fight he did; wrestling with unyielding, but surprisingly smooth lips, tangling his fingers in the sheets on either side of Aomine's head, pinning him down with one knee pressed into the firm abdomen beneath him. Boldly, he pried Aomine's lips open with his own, plunging between them with his tongue, managing hot bursts of breath through his nose as he changed the angle of their melding mouths. Aomine's fingers tightened in the hair at the nape of his neck, his other hand clamping down on his shoulder, preventing him from moving away, and he was surprised to find, upon fleetingly searching himself, that he didn't feel an urge to escape. No, he was feeling much rawer, baser urges at the moment. He was definitely going to kick Aomine's ass when he came to his senses, but right now….well, right now he was actually considering doing something else to it.

Aomine didn't give him that chance, however, surging up with his entire body and flipping their positions with tremendous strength, catching Kagami off guard as he slammed him down on the mattress, lips grappling with his own around a muffled growl, or what might have been a moan in disguise. He wedged one long, powerful thigh between Kagami's knees, effectively separating them, one hand skimming down his chest before sliding under his shirt, heated fingers brushing against the sensitive skin bringing out a shiver from Kagami. He didn't just lie there either, digging his fingers into Aomine's shoulder blades, kicking him in the hip sharply when that wandering hand traveled lower, squeezing the aching flesh straining the front of his pants. Undeterred, Aomine fiercely rubbed his semi-hard erection, fucking his mouth with his tongue, imitating something much more primitive.

If Kagami had been capable of coherent thought at some point during this transgression, he definitely wasn't anymore; he couldn't think or ask, he could only feel. He couldn't stop the sounds of carnal pleasure that were jerked from him with every stroke of Aomine's large, warm hand on his cock, nor the trembling that wracked his body beneath the large, scorching one of his rival.

He felt Aomine's own rock-hard erection insistently prodding his stomach, and a detached prickle of unease swept over him at the formidable size of the thing. Basic survival instinct, wondering how he was going to handle that rigid, throbbing monster. This wouldn't be his first time sleeping with another person, or even sleeping with another man - and he definitely knew that Aomine intended to sleep with him by now - but it would be his first time on the receiving end, which seemed non-negotiable at this point...and he felt a brief flash of sympathy for his past partners, taking it like freaking champs.

Finally, Aomine broke the heated kiss, and Kagami registered a surge of purely physical satisfaction to see he was gulping harsh, unsteady breaths, tan cheeks flushed with color, stormy blue eyes glazed with pleasure. Absently, he reached up and snagged a hand in his dark hair, sifting through it lightly before giving it a sharp tug.

"God," Aomine gasped, head tilting back, rutting his hips against Kagami's belly in what Kagami was pretty sure was an involuntary response. One of his hands splayed on Kagami's chest, bracing his weight, and the other that had been stimulating his arousal a moment ago hovering in a momentary spell of hesitation, "Kagami, shit, let me...let me fuck you. ...Please," he added as an afterthought, his gaze locked compellingly on Kagami's own.

"Do it." Kagami commanded, voice a little strained and rusted, amid breathless pants, his chest heaving against Aomine's searing fingers.

The hand wavering at Aomine's side came up to his own mouth, and two of his fingers slipped between his lips. He slicked them liberally, while Kagami watched with burning, impatient eyes, and his free hand traveled to lower Kagami's sweats on his hips, the fabric catching on the jutting erection tenting it for a moment before allowing it to spring free. Dropping his hand low, Aomine brushed his wet fingertips teasingly along the cleft of Kagami's ass, before pressing in and lightly circling his quivering entrance, his slightly parted lips splitting around a smug leer.

"Shut up," Kagami panted irritably, if a little tremulously, seizing the back of his neck and bringing him down to crush their mouths together. Aomine complied, but Kagami could still feel him grinning against his lips, as he slowly slid one finger into him. Breath hitching, Kagami arched halfway off the mattress at the sting of discomfort, and Aomine gave him a moment to adjust, twisting and probing with the finger carefully before another joined it, the unbroken kiss losing some of its intensity as he concentrated. The fingers inside Kagami scissored and curled, and then he felt them scrape against something that sent a burst of stars flaring up behind his eyes, yanking a ragged moan from his throat.

Apparently satisfied, Aomine withdrew them, and Kagami heard a rustle of fabric and the muted hiss of a zipper before he felt something much thicker and harder nudging against him. He let his rival's mouth go, his own lips swollen from the pressure, his face and neck feeling unnaturally hot, and as Aomine moved his hips forward, pushing inside him, he hissed a breath between his teeth, and they just stayed that way for a moment, huffing the sizzling air between them. Then Kagami jerked, lifting his hips and his weeping, neglected cock up in a silent demand for friction. Aomine gave it to him, grinding down, thrusting deep into him and bringing out a low, approving growl. He started choppy, slow, but it wasn't long before he picked up speed, ramming into Kagami with a wild abandon, grunting intermittent sounds of pleasure, mingling with Kagami's moans and gasps and occasionally whimpers.

They rocked, rutted, ground against each other, harder and faster, the mattress creaking beneath them as hands clawed for purchase and sweating skin slapped together. Kagami's fingers clenched in Aomine's shirt, and the breath was punched out of him with the next crest, as impending release tightened and coiled in his stomach. Aomine was close as well, his already unsteady rhythm falling away to feral, almost violent thrusts; neither of them could last long. One of Aomine's hands fumbled between them and wrapped around Kagami's erection, pumping it with each driving movement of his hips, and abruptly Kagami tensed, shuddering and groaning as he came, spilling over Aomine's hand and his own shirt. Aomine slammed his hips forward twice more, and then went rigid as well, gritting out an indistinct curse as his cock twitched and pulsed, releasing jets of slick warmth into Kagami.

Rolling off of him after a moment, Aomine collapsed on his back, gasping for breath, and Kagami shifted uncomfortably, making a face as sticky liquid dribbled down his inner thighs.

"Nasty," he muttered, his voice sounding hoarse even to his own ears, sitting up and glaring down at his flushed, grinning roommate, remembering his earlier resolution to beat him up for this.

"This" being…? "...Did you plan this?" he asked skeptically, forked eyebrows drawing together slightly in a frown.

Aomine chuckled, without opening his eyes, and folded his arms under his head, "Maybe, a little."

Kagami scoffed, "What do you mean 'maybe'? How do you 'maybe' arrange to fuck somebody?" Realizing what he'd just said, he felt heat crawl up his face, and dropped his gaze, flustered even if he was still wearing the evidence of what they'd just done.

"Well, I already knew I wanted to get in your pants," Kagami's head shot up at that, and he wrinkled his nose at the thought of all the subtle insinuations and lusty gazes he might have missed over the last few weeks, "It was just a matter of how, and it was just when you leaned so close that I thought I'd give it a try."

"And what if I'd punched you in the face instead of kissing you back?"

Aomine seemed to consider this, eyes flitting open, and then hunched his shoulders in a shrug, "But you didn't, did you?" he sneered, "You couldn't fucking wait to get it on with me."

Kagami opened his mouth to deliver a stinging retort, but then just snapped it closed, hoping his face wasn't turning as red as it felt like it was. He'd already known Aomine was pansexual; perfectly happy to fuck anything that stood still long enough and had the right parts to do it, but he also had rather picky taste if his partner didn't happen to have melon-sized breasts. That he'd apparently been so eager to sleep with Kagami said a lot, and a tentative part of him wondered if he'd be up for doing it again sometime.

Not that they should start dating or anything; he didn't think they would manage to get along for five minutes without throttling each other. But that fevered romp had certainly loosened Kagami up; he felt relaxed and sated, and full...and he was willing to hazard a bet that - as soon as he got a good night's sleep - he would have a much better time focusing on studying for that test next week. ...So he supposed the bottom line was, he wouldn't mind doing it again.

Just as a stress-reliever.

No big deal.

TBC

((So many story ideas, so little time… Hopefully this one will get more interesting as it progresses; I've got all kinds of juicy stuff planned, plus I never get tired of these two bickering little shits getting in each others' faces. I suppose it was kind of inevitable that I ended up starting an mpreg fic at the end of summer; I just hope this one doesn't turn into the 54-chapter, plot-hole-ridden monster the last one did.

Review, please, review the crap out of me, it means more than you know.

-Shinsun))