3rd Q: Bad Habits
Or: In which Kise has a cigarette for breakfast and Aomine disapproves.
A clicking sound, a flame springing to life and dying the second after. Blue smoke rose rose into the air, dancing a slow dance from their place of origin: a lit cigarette caught between long, slender Fingers. The smell, a mixture of menthol and tobacco mixed with the morning staple of black coffee, freshly brewed and invigorating in a yellow mug on the small table at which the smoker was seated in tranquil morning glory. Another drag, another inhale, another exhale – a wave of swirling smoke bursting from rosy lips in a pretty face, joining the steadily growing cloud of previous breaths in the kitchen. The blond man, dressed in a white button-down shirt and grey dress pants, paid the lack of oxygen no mind, absentmindedly staring out the window, mentally already working. Another drag, the cloud grew ever larger. The bitter taste of coffee mingled with the menthol staleness on his tongue and he struggled to remember when he'd last eaten breakfast. Proper breakfast, not a fag and a cuppa to chase away exhaustion and cravings that he had no patience or mind to satisfy. A golden-eyed glance around the flat, the home he shared with the one man who understood his wandering mind. The blue-haired menace had left early, long before he'd gotten up. A morning run, like every day, the model turned basketball pro thought to himself, uttering a melodic chuckle at the paradoxical thought. It was equally impossible to force the overly confident ace to attend team practice as it was to convince him to skip his everyday cardio. Why, no one but he would ever know.
Another inhale, exhale. By now the smoke was so thick in the air that it burned his eyes and yet the blond made no move to crush the butt of the half smoked cigarette into the ashtray and end his guilty moment.
He had no illusions when it came to his ugly addiction or just how utterly destructive it was and yet it had become a constant, a habit that he just couldn't shake. Another drag, another exhale then, he tasted filter, grimacing and flicking the end into the black ashtray, he rose, leaving the smoldering ash to breathe it's last toxic breaths. The last bit of coffee tasted bitter and washed away the even less pleasant taste of charred paper before Kise dumped the mug into the sink to be washed later. A look at the wall clock warned him of his lateness and he ran a hand through his golden strands of silken hair before freezing instantly as a key turned in the door. He spun around, a smile breaking onto his features as a mumbled greeting reached his ear and a tall, tan figure popped into view. The smoke still lingered in the air and it was impossible not to notice the disgust on the younger man's face as he approached his blond lover, beads of sweat coating his arms and forehead like witnesses attesting to his exertion.
"You're a fucking idiot, you know that?"
No loving embrace or smile to answer his own, Kise sighed and rolled his eyes. How many times had they argued over his habit? He'd stopped counting.
"I know. But you love me anyway," he replied, a confident, provocative grin replacing the happy smile.
"Whatever," the runner answered and pulled him into a hug, dropping all pretenses of gentleness in favour of a harsh bite grazing the pierced ear of the model.
"You reek," Kise whined, pushing away the taller, larger male with a semi-disgusted expression on his face that was met with open enmity by his partner.
"No shit. I just ran ten miles. And you don't smell too good yourself, though it might be that cloud of smoke that you insist on cloaking yourself in. I swear to God if the smoking doesn't kill you, I will," Aomine's deep voice sighed before the blue-haired male glanced at the clock and back at the smoker in question. "You'll be late."
"I'm leaving, I'm leaving, no worries. And about the smoking...I'm older than you, I can take care of myself, Aominecchi," the blond replied, reaching for his jacket and keys on the table, earning a sarcastic laugh in reply to his cocky statement.
"Yeah..right," the bluenette snorted before finally shaking his head in defeat and producing a brown paper bag which he thrust into his lover's hands.
"Now get your ass in gear," he murmured, placing a chaste kiss on Kise's forehead and disappearing into the bathroom.
A peek into the bag revealed a blueberry muffin, an apple and a bottle of orange juice. He smiled.
Then he reached for his jacket, pulling it on before leaving the apartment, the breakfast bag in hand. Safely outside, his hand slipped into the breast pocket of the coat to find emptiness where his spare pack of cigarettes should have been. His fingers touched paper and with a mixture of annoyance and surprise he pulled out a post it note with a signature messy scrawl that he knew as well as his own.
Quit or I will kill you before the smoking has a chance to. And eat your damn breakfast you lousy excuse for an adult...
...Love you.
Reaching into his jeans and fishing out a single menthol scented cylinder he sighed.
Just one last cigarette. And then he was quitting, for good this time. Light, inhale, exhale, guilt. And then he ate the muffin, feeling guilty for the way the tobacco and sweetness didn't mix.
A/N: Bad habits die hard. And as always, I love reviews.
