Title: Discipline and Punish
Characters/Pairings: Imayoshi/Aomine
Summary: Aomine needs a firm hand, and that is a fact.
Notes: Adult for smut. From a prompt over at the KnB kink meme on Dreamwidth that was looking for Imayoshi spanking Aomine in punishment for skipping practice. What can I say, it spoke to me. 2902 words. For some reason I neglected to crosspost this, so I'm rectifying that now so that the new thing I'll be posting later on will actually make sense. Apologies if you've seen this one before!
Discipline and Punish
Shouichi liked to think of himself as being a patient sort of fellow, but as it turned out, patience wasn't the sort of thing that lasted forever. And he'd just about reached the end of his.
The root cause of this was stretched out in a shady spot on the roof, the very picture of indolence itself, with a photobook draped over his face. It was, as Shouichi saw, the sort of photobook a gentleman didn't look at in public, but then, he didn't figure that Aomine cared all that much about being a gentleman. Truth was, he wasn't sure there was much at all Aomine did care about.
He regarded the regular rise and fall of Aomine's chest, listening to the faint rasp of his snore, barely loud enough to be audible over the buzz of the cicadas in the trees, and considered his options. Something had to be done, and that was a fact. Genius, miracle, prodigy—none of that mattered if Aomine couldn't be bothered to show up for practice with the rest of the team. He'd hoped that a few well-chosen words might do the trick, but it was starting to be clear that Aomine was something of a desperate case.
Just as well that he tended to be the stubborn sort, himself.
Shouichi leaned over to pluck the photobook off Aomine's face; he glanced at the dainty, barely dressed beauty on the cover as Aomine snorted and woke up. Then he snapped it shut and sent it skimming over the edge of the roof. He had to admit, he was impressed with the distance it got, and just hoped that no one was around to catch it the hard way.
He was also impressed by the way Aomine woke right on up in response to that. "Hey!" Outrage brought him to his feet, mingled with disbelief. "That was my book!"
"So it was," Shouichi agreed, enjoying the spectacle of Aomine's consternation greatly. "I wouldn't have thought it would be so aerodynamic, would you?"
It was just as well that he'd already had the benefit of Wakamatsu's instructive example, because that meant that he wasn't surprised by it when Aomine, clearly distraught and bereft of reason, went to throw a punch at him. Shouichi stepped aside and seized Aomine's wrist, using the momentum of his punch to pull him off his balance and bring him stumbling forward. At the same time, he brought his knee up to meet Aomine's stomach. The breath left Aomine in a whoosh that Shouichi found distinctly satisfying, and he folded up with a gagging cough.
He was quite sure that the only reason it had worked was that Aomine had not been expecting him at all, but that, Shouichi felt, was entirely irrelevant. He pressed his advantage right away, bearing Aomine down to the roof and wrapping his hands around Aomine's wrists post haste, securing them behind his back while Aomine thrashed around and said things that just about made Shouichi's hair curl. "My goodness, didn't your mother ever wash your mouth out with soap for saying those kinds of things?"
Aomine thrashed around some more and said a few more of those things, but the beauty of it was that he couldn't get a whole lot of leverage while Shouichi had his hands pinned at the small of his back. Shouichi hummed to himself and let Aomine get it all out of his system, until Aomine gave up fighting to get free and cursing him and subsided, breathing hard. "What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"You know, it's funny that you should ask me that." He could just about see the scowl on Aomine's face and the angry glitter in his eyes and smiled at him. "As a matter of fact, these days I find that you're what's wrong."
Shouichi awaited the response to that and was largely disappointed by it. Aomine strained against his grip and disclaimed any responsibility. "I haven't done anything! You're the crazy asshole who interrupted my nap and threw my book away."
"And yet it hasn't occurred to you to ask me why I might have done such a thing." He shook his head. "Really, now. That's just sloppy of you."
Aomine leveled a baleful stare on him, insofar as he could do so when he had one cheek pressed against the roof and Shouichi was sitting outside his peripheral vision. Shouichi privately awarded him points for that. "I don't have to ask. You're nuts."
Disappointing, very disappointing indeed. Shouichi sighed. "Thank you for that charming display of facile reasoning." He shook Aomine just a bit. "Now, if you would be so kind as to think for a moment, tell me. What do you suppose you ought to be doing right now?"
"I dunno," Aomine said, sullen. "Why don't you tell me?" He squawked when Shouichi shook him again, this time less gently. "All right, all right! I guess you want me to go to practice."
"You see, I knew you weren't stupid. Now we're beginning to get somewhere." Shouichi transferred his grip on Aomine's wrists to one hand and patted his shoulder, approving. "Now suppose you tell me why it is you're not at practice this afternoon? It's been so long since we've seen your shining face that we're just pining for you."
Aomine grunted. "What's the point? There's no one out there who can beat me."
And so, Shouichi filled in for himself, there was no point in bothering to practice. Aggravating brat; so he was still hoping for someone to beat him, was he? "I have half a mind to turn you over my knee and spank you," he said. In fact, there wasn't any reason he could think of not to do it, because the heavens knew that Aomine had earned it. He set his free hand on Aomine's belt and leaned back, hauling him across his lap bodily while Aomine sputtered. "Of all the self-centeredly stupid things I've ever heard, that's got to be at the top of the list." He swatted Aomine across the ass, nice and solid, and enjoyed the resulting yelp very much indeed. "For one thing, you idiot brat, I've seen the way you play." He smacked Aomine's ass again, punctuating each sentence with his palm. "If you don't keep your training up, you're going to end up hurting yourself. And then where will you be?" He brought his hand down again, and again; Aomine had ceased to yelp and now grunted with each smack. "For another, this is a team sport. I don't care how good you are, you can't play this game all by yourself. You need a team for that, and I don't mind telling you that I'm not sure I want you on my team. Your attitude is downright appalling. If you expect me to put you on the court during games, then you had damn well better show up to practices and learn to work with your teammates. Otherwise I'm going to leave you on the bench." He brought his hand down one more time, solid. "Do I make myself clear?"
Aomine was breathing hard, and his voice was huskier than Shouichi had expected it to be when he said, "Yes, Imayoshi-san."
"And don't think I don't mean it," Shouichi said. Rather, he started to say it, but as he went to shove Aomine off his lap, two things happened. He realized that there was a very specific sort of hardness pressed up against his thigh, and Aomine groaned as Shouichi began to push him away.
Shouichi stilled, surprised, and reevaluated the harsh way Aomine was breathing. He pulled his knee up a bit, pressing his thigh up against Aomine, and was rewarded by the way Aomine hissed between his teeth.
Well, now. Well, well, well.
"This was supposed to be something along the lines of a chastisement," Shouichi remarked, bringing his hand down on the upturned curve of Aomine's ass, brisk. It made Aomine gasp. "You're pretty much the most contrary creature I've ever met, though. I guess it just about figures that you'd like it instead."
"Fuck you," Aomine said. He grunted when Shouichi brought his hand down, hard, and then grabbed a handful of his ass and squeezed. "Fuck...!" He rolled his hips down, rubbing himself up against Shouichi's thigh.
Shouichi pressed him down, holding Aomine tight against his lap and not letting him move, which made him swear again. He squeezed Aomine's ass again, speculative, and grinned when Aomine groaned. "Now this is a fascinating predicament we find ourselves in, don't you think?" He worked his hand against Aomine's ass, kneading it hard, and felt the way Aomine shuddered in response. "Just what do you reckon we ought to do about it?"
Aomine grunted, but that was probably because Shouichi had lifted his hand and brought it down again, quick and sharp. "Imayoshi-san...!"
"I'm starting to wonder what you'd do if I pulled your pants down so I could spank your bare ass," Shouichi mused, kneading his hand against Aomine's ass again. Another of those shudders rocked Aomine, and the sound he made was very nearly a whine. "I'm starting to think you'd enjoy it." He pressed Aomine's hips down when they tried to jerk. "Hell, I'm starting to think you might cream your pants, just thinking about it."
"You are such a bastard," Aomine ground out; he shuddered, groaning, when Shouichi brought his hand down again, hard. "Fuck...!"
"Now, really, is that any way to be talking to your captain?" Shouichi slid his hand down along Aomine's hip, slipping it under him. Getting Aomine's belt and pants undone one-handed wasn't the easiest thing he'd ever done, but hell, it was just about worth it for the sounds Aomine made, the little hitches in his throat and the way he all but whined when Shouichi finally got them undone and dragged his pants and underwear down. His ass was already flushed and hot to the touch when Shouichi stroked his palm over the curve of it; he nearly yelled when Shouichi slapped it, writhing against Shouichi's lap and groaning as Shouichi did it again.
Come to think of it, Shouichi reflected, his pants were getting a little snug, too.
He slapped Aomine's ass again, brisk, and closed his hand on the hot curve of it. Aomine groaned again as he squeezed it, and Shouichi hummed to himself, considering it. "Now, don't get me wrong," he said, working Aomine's ass slowly. "This is a charming picture all around, but I'm thinking." He pulled his hand away from Aomine and smiled at the sound Aomine made then, disappointed, and closed his mouth around his fingers, slicking them. "Way I see it, there's something better we can be doing with this tight little ass of yours."
Aomine shuddered across his lap as Shouichi dipped his fingers between his cheeks and pressed them into him, deliberate and sure. "Fuck," he gasped, hoarse. "Fuck, fuck, Imayoshi-san...!"
Shouichi laughed at him and pressed his fingers deeper, working them hard against the tight grip of Aomine's ass. "That's the general idea of it," he agreed, driving his fingers in and out of Aomine. "Way I'm thinking, you owe me for the trouble you've put me to this afternoon, brat. So I figure I'm gonna just sit back and let you make it up to me." He crooked his fingers, pressing just so, and smiled at the choked-off sound Aomine made then as he pushed back against his fingers. "You reckon that sounds fair?"
Aomine twisted around enough to be able to glare at him, though it lost something with how flushed his face was and the way his eyes glazed over every time Shouichi twisted his fingers. "You wouldn't know fair if it bit you on the ass."
"Maybe not," Shouichi agreed, sliding his fingers free of Aomine and stroking just the tips of them against him. "Yes or no, brat?"
"All right, fine," Aomine rasped.
"I thought you'd see it my way," Shouichi agreed, turning him loose and prodding at him. "Come on, now."
Aomine sat up, moving gingerly as Shouichi shucked his pants and settled back on his elbows. He was definitely flushed, and his cheek bore the red imprint of where it'd been pressed against the roof. He was also impressively hard; Shouichi couldn't help looking him over and appreciating the sight as Aomine pushed his pants down. Aomine was a splendid specimen all around; it was a real pity about his attitude.
But perhaps they could do something about the attitude in time.
Aomine spat in his palm as he knelt across Shouichi's lap, and his grip was just this side of too rough when he wrapped his hand around Shouichi's cock. Shouichi hummed as the sensation ran through him, rolling his hips up against Aomine's hand. "All in your own time, of course," he said as Aomine handled him.
Aomine showed him his teeth, but he also raised himself up then, balancing himself with a hand against Shouichi's shoulder as he lowered himself again, settling himself down on Shouichi's cock by slow degrees. He groaned with it as he did, and Shouichi caught his breath at the fierce heat of Aomine's body as it opened up around him, almost too tight to bear. By the time Aomine had let his weight bear him all the way down, they were both breathing hard and the sweat was sliding down Shouichi's temples. Aomine leaned over him, his fingers tight against Shouichi's shoulders, and for once he wasn't scowling or sneering. His expression was surprisingly open, more like it had been when Shouichi had seen him playing for Teikou, and that was a good sort of look for the brat to have. He was going to have to see what he could do about putting it on Aomine's face more often.
In the meantime, however, there were more pressing things to attend to. Shouichi breathed hard against the sticky summer air and the overwhelming urge to rock his hips up into Aomine, to fuck the tightness of his body, waiting for the moment when Aomine took an unsteady breath and moved first. It was a shallow movement, but the friction of it was enough to make them both groan. Aomine repeated it, lifting himself and rolling his hips back down again, grunting as he did. Shouichi curled his hands into fists, holding himself steady until Aomine was moving freely over him, fucking himself slowly on Shouichi's cock and panting with it. That was a damn fine thing to see, and it wasn't too much trouble to rest on his elbows and enjoy the way Aomine looked over him and the build of pleasure each time Aomine rocked down against him. Shouichi grinned, watching the expressions moving across Aomine's face, concentration and abstracted, intent pleasure, and grinned harder when Aomine realized he was being watched and tried to scowl at him. Then it was time to move, and he did, snapping his hips up into Aomine and enjoying the way Aomine arched and gasped, hoarse with his pleasure. He let Aomine clutch at his shoulders and drove his hips up against him, fast and hard, figuring that neither of them was going to last very long. It didn't even take touching Aomine to bring him off: Shouichi shifted the angle of his thrusts just a bit and that was enough to do it. Aomine cried out, wordless, and came hard, shuddering as his body worked around Shouichi's cock, wringing down even tighter. It was something to see, Aomine all abandoned, enjoying himself openly; Shouichi watched him, rocking up into him with fast, sharp jerks of his hips, and took the naked, soft look of Aomine's expression with him when the pleasure finally pulled him under its edge.
Shouichi let himself slump back against the roof, staring up at the endless blue of the sky and breathing hard in the aftermath of that, aftershocks of pleasure still shivering along his nerves. Aomine slumped over him, too hot and heavy by half, but Shouichi elected not to pay any mind to that, not while his brain was so pleasantly hazy with endorphins. It wasn't until Aomine began to stir that he recollected their circumstances and bid farewell to the afterglow. He had a smile firmly in place by the time Aomine lifted his head, and turned it on him. "I reckon that just about puts us even for this afternoon," he said as Aomine rolled off him and began to clean himself up. "I expect to see you at practice tomorrow, you hear me?"
Somehow he couldn't make himself be surprised when Aomine paused in the act of reaching for his pants. "And if I'm not?"
Shouichi glanced at him and decided that was about one part challenge to one part flirtation. "That's for me to know and you to find out," he replied as he pulled his pants up.
Aomine studied him, snorted, and didn't bother to reply to that. Shouichi smiled at him until he'd done up his clothes and stalked away, and only then did he allow himself to laugh.
He gave it even odds whether Aomine would actually show up to practice or not, but that was fine. He'd got the measure of Aomine now, and now the game could really begin.
end
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