Two days after his impromptu date with Kise the host, he was notified of his now official one month long suspension. If he had to be honest, he was relieved. On more than one occasion till he got the news, he had thought of leaving the force or that he would be asked to do so; the idea had been both relieving and burdening but once he knew his actual punishment, he felt some semblance of a true relief.
He would have another chance.
Could he make use of it though? Or was it already too late?
Deep down he knew his character was easily influenced by defeat, perhaps mainly because he knew no defeat in general for so long, thus the bitter taste left him dumbfounded. He did not want to give up nor did he question his abilities but the fact that he lost, and lost so miserably too, a despicable forfeit rather than a proud fall after a fair fight – it simply shocked the enormous pride he had built over the years of excellence and thought to be indestructible.
He would fall into his dooming cycle of brooding if it wasn't for Kise, who for some reason was quite smitten with him. He thought it was perhaps his prowess in bed, but then it seemed to him that Kise never had any issues finding any and all kinds of lovers; whenever he went to the bar, he found the blond encircled by various men or women, not just the patrons but the staff as well doted and wooed him like lovestruck teenagers. Surely the host was getting similarly extravagant attention outside the bar as well. After all, Kise was gorgeous and enticing, there was no denying that, more importantly he knew how to persuade someone, how to draw them to himself, this Aomine knew very well, much intimately.
So somehow, in the next two weeks Aomine found himself dropping by to the bar more often and near the time when Kise's shift ended, they would drink together and make small talk then make their way to the nearest love hotel which they had frequented since that first fateful night.
Kise was right when he had declared that sex was amazing at curing oppressive stress; after every night in the blond's arms, Aomine found his muscles sore and his heart lighter. Then there would be days where he would wake up either to Kise's awful singing in the shower or soft snores near him; they spent those 'morning-after's together, eating or talking or playing basketball, if Kise had some time off. Being one of solitude, Aomine was initially ired with the way Kise was able to drag him around so skilfully, always knowing just what would allure him, but eventually he learnt to let himself be swept along, for it was not as if he truly minded the host's company and any time he spent alone was time spent in agony. Those "it's not really a date"s per Kise's declaration often ended in the love hotel as well and Aomine became insatiable of other's lustful advances though he never admitted it to Kise. Casual sex was nothing new for Aomine but he had never experienced it like this, more than a passing one night stand, it felt like a very stable and mutually satisfying friends with benefits kind of arrangement as a natural comfort established itself securely between them for unfathomable reasons.
It seemed as though the blond's touch was astonishing, healing almost, despite how their romps were rough and scorching, rarely any tender touch slipped in. The painfully eager and lecherously aggressive energy in bed was especially in contrast to how carelessly soft Kise could be during the day or when they were drinking at the bar. Once Aomine even wondered if Kise was capable of any sexual intimacy that was not urgent and forceful.
Then in the third week of his suspension, by a rather tragic twist of fate he discovered how there were actually a myriad ways Kise's touch was healing and how the sensuality the blond offered was not limited to wanton transgressions and aching caresses.
Almost three weeks he had spent without a single thought of Haizaki popping up in his mind, his failure shrouded perfectly and pushed to the very back of his consciousness, worries and concerns had fled silently and his days and nights were filled with more mundane interests and pleasures. Then came that day, that day in the third week of his suspension, a rather sunny morning, he turned to the third page of the newspaper he was reading while having breakfast at home and found the news. It was a single paragraph, something nobody seemed to care, at the very bottom left corner of the page; a child's face, a boy as innocent looking as any other 14 years old would. He was dead. Drug overdose. He was bullied they said. The school he went, the neighbourhood he lived, his family's financial background that allowed him excessive money and absence of true care... It all matched. It was their turf, where they sold the goods to anyone who paid.
"You saved your friend, our friend, I am thankful for that as a friend, but in exchange for how many lives? How many lives will Haizaki Shuugo take before we capture him from this point on?"
He swallowed on nothing and heaviness he knew very well from weeks ago settled in the pit of his stomach once again. He could not eat anything any more, strutted to his bedroom and lay down on the bed for the whole day, doing nothing, saying nothing, trying his best to think and feel nothing; wrapped himself within a cocoon of silent dread.
Near midnight his phone rang and at first he ignored it but after perhaps a dozen rings, he relented, comprehending that whoever was calling was not going to stop without an answer.
"Aominecchi? You're not coming tonight? Don't tell me you missed fooling around with girls and letting me off for a busty babe? I could crossdress you know, I make one hell of a gal."
"Just leave me alone tonight Kise..."
He was surprised at the evident fatigue and agony in his own voice; he had not spoken a single word the whole day, he had not cried, he had not shouted, why was it so hoarse and tired? Was his voice mirroring the recesses of his soul?
A pause, it seemed as though Kise was pondering, then he spoke, a voice devoid of any mischief and instead unabashedly caring, calm and steady,
"You tell me to leave you alone but when you sound like that it is hard to do so."
What could he give as an answer to that? He did not even truly understand the sentiment or rationale behind it. Why did Kise insist so much on him? Despite all the nasty words and open hostility? Was the man a masochist? Or perhaps Kise was falling for him? Would not be the first person he slept with ending up like that though he had never regarded Kise to be the clingy lovestruck type, even when the blond had managed to find a way for a subtle presence in his life in the recent weeks... He sighed and was about to crudely refuse when he heard Kise's voice again, as sweet as ever but suddenly tinged with a profound sadness,
"Let me... I promise you I will make your night better."
"I am not interested in fucking right now."
"I know, I will give you something better."
"I am not coming."
"Then can I come?"
There was no reason to accept it and every reason to reject it, especially considering how Kise coming to his apartment would indicate a whole new level of intimacy. Yet after a pause he lazily muttered his address anyway. Thoughtlessly. Without considering cons or pros at all. Perhaps, a part of his heart wanted company; perhaps, even though he isolated himself whenever he was faced with a predicament, something inside him wished for the presence of another, to be aided subtly, to be chased after... It was shameful to admit and impossible for his massive ego to accept but his mind was too tired to dwell on such feeble matters; he shook off the bits of self-reflection and returned his gaze to the ceiling. Why was it so hard to say 'no' to Kise, anyway?
Then Kise came, less than an hour later. They said nothing at first, Aomine making his way to his room, Kise following, and then they lay down on the bed side by side, silently watching the ceiling as if it was a mesmerising night sky; though the action was exactly the same as what he did the whole day, somehow Aomine felt his chest to not tighten so cruelly, the scent of citrus mingled with alcohol that spread around from Kise's skin and clothes soothed Aomine in enigmatic ways, the silent breathing akin to a holy chant for peace and deliverance... He found himself floating in a placid daze.
Then, some time later, god know how long, for a second Kise stood up and opened the window a little, the sound of calm rain slowly conquered the otherwise hushed room, then when he lay again, his fingers brushed Aomine's arm so slightly... He turned, did not make a single noise, did not utter a single word but watched Aomine lying on the bed seemingly in deep thought but both knew very well at that moment that Aomine was not thinking anything at all. In fact, his incredible focus was to deliberately force himself not to think. It had been so the whole day.
Then another caring brush of fingers, certainly deliberate this time.
Then another.
Then Aomine's gaze wandered over to the body near him.
He was not sure, when did his eyes close or when did his body lean in to his bed partner's? He was not sure, when did Kise start kissing him so chastely or when did Kise start embracing him so softly as if he was easily breakable? He was not sure, when did he strip his clothing or when did he strip Kise out of his? He was not sure, how did it begin?
But it began and then advanced, not through fierce explosions of pain and pleasure like in their previous romps, but with slow and serene waves of want and comfort, soon though the bliss flooded their flesh and hearts, and Aomine learnt just how well Kise could comfort one with his body and soul, and it did not have to be through a consuming fire; a calming rain was needed there and then and he was blessed.
He felt his skin, bones, muscles, his very being – physical and metaphysical – liberated, meticulously and gently set free from the bondage of despair.
When he woke up the next day, the blond was nowhere to be found and for a moment there he even thought that perhaps he had imagined things, perhaps it had been a dream. But the moment he entered the living room, he found Kise, clad barely in his dress shirt from last night fully unbuttoned and a clean pair of boxers that definitely belonged to Aomine. He was humming a soothing tune – no singing and thanks God for that – and brewing coffee.
"I thought you did not like coffee much?"
"Huh? Ah, mornin'. I am still a little sleepy, thought I could use it."
There were two cups on the counter though, Aomine rose an eyebrow, not in mock inquiry but genuine surprise,
"Is that... for me?"
"Well, I stole yours once after all. It is only fair if I paid back."
"I thought you said that the fries I stole from your plate that day during brunch counted as the payback?"
"I guess I am just generous?"
The blond offered the cup, a graceful and almost grateful smile on his face and Aomine could not decipher it, for the love of God, if there was anyone to be grateful in the room, it was himself and the thought and the realisation of this was enough to embarrass him and he did not remember being embarrassed in years... Not that he showed it, kept his cheeks' dark colour intact, not allowing any invasion of any silly blush. He had not been target of such subtle and nonchalant compassion by anyone but Momoi, thus it was an experience that caught him unready but hell, he was not going to expose that bit.
Kise Ryouta was a force of nature, a tempest of unknown emotions and unexpected discoveries that rampaged through his life. Somehow, in the aftermath, he felt tranquil and content than ravaged or ired.
"Mmm..."
"It's good?"
"Obviously. My coffee-maker is brand new. Do you know how expensive it is?"
"Jeez, it wouldn't hurt you to commend me Aominecchi..."
"You literally just push the button."
Kise pouted childishly though the skin near his eyes crinkled slightly, his gaze doubtlessly happy, Aomine simply rolled his eyes in mock exasperation and repeated,
"You. Just. Push. The. Button. That's it. That's all."
"Fine, fine. Your coffee-maker is awesome. And to use it one just has to press a single button. I get it. I concur."
Aomine chuckled and Kise's eyes widened in partial surprise and partial delight which brought Aomine's chuckling to an abrupt stopped, becoming a little puzzled himself,
"What?"
"Nothing... I guess... I better get dressed. I have to leave after the coffee. Too many things to do today!"
"Hmm... Kise, when does your shift finish tonight?"
"Oh, you can never have enough of me, can you?"
Kise's wiggling eyebrows and smug smile annoyed him a little truthfully this time,
"Never mind."
"Aw. Aominecchi, it won't kill you to be a little more expressive of your appreciation of me, you know? You don't have to be so tsundere."
Aomine's eyes widened in obvious vexation, Kise smiled, skilfully moving on to another subject – always so crafty to not push too much,
"Well, anyway – I am unfortunately occupied today and tonight with other affairs. I won't be at the bar either. So you don't have to come."
"I wasn't planning to come."
"Yes, suuure, I know. Oh come on... don't look at me so poisonously Aominecchi! Won't you miss me at all? I'll miss you."
Aomine shook his head in a certain 'no' and took another sip of the coffee.
It tasted good. Better than when he used the coffee-maker himself actually. So yes, perhaps Kise 'pressed the button' better than him, somehow?
When Kise snickered and sauntered towards the bedroom, Aomine watched him in silence from behind and he could swear, he could swear to God, and to Satsuki, and to Tetsu, and to Mai-chan, to all things and people he found sacred, that there was almost a sadness in the blond's usual wicked and superficial smile as he left Aomine alone in the open kitchen.
Perhaps he was sleepier than he thought he was.
