The first time it happens, they are in second period biology, right before lunch. Some of their classmates watch and egg them on, other roll their eyes and walk away. The supply teacher remains at his own table, scrolling through his phone with one hand, occasionally fixing the two of them with mild but meaningless glances.
"Three," Kise says, locking eyes with Aomine.
"Two," Aomine says, resting his elbows on the counter top.
There is one minute to the bell and they are trading spitballs over their lab table.
Aomine fires first- he always does- but Kise retaliates, shot for shot. Sometime when Aomine lets out a grunt after being hit on the tip of his nose and Kise has white little flecks dappling his blond mop of hair, a brunette from one of the desks in front of them walks over to Aomine's side of the table.
Kise fires one last spitball. Aomine makes a big show of swiping it away and then turns sideways to take in the girl. She doesn't even come up to his shoulder and has rather dull-looking brown eyes, but she's curvy in all the places he likes. He grins and says, "Hey."
The girl's gaze flicker to Kise for a second. When her attention returns, she offers Aomine an awkward half-smile but he can't make out the following mumble.
"What?"
The girl is blushing now. "Um, I was wondering if Kise-kun - I mean Kise-sama -"
Aomine has already figured out where this is going. Somewhere he doesn't care for about.
He shows his irritation by letting his shoulders settle in a sigh. "Look," Aomine says, lowering his voice so his exasperation is better illuminated. "My boy, Kise? 's really busy. He knows he sucks at ball and he plans on practicing extra hard cause he's got in it his head he's gonna beat me. I'm not one to shit on dreams, so I'm supposed to be encouraging him by playing with him. He doesn't have any time to spend with you."
She wears a confused expression though most of his explanation but by his last sentence, she clears her throat, whispers, "Oh. Okay." and is hurrying away.
"Aominecchi," Kise calls, almost sing-song. Aomine's attention returns to see the blond has made his way over to his side and is slouching over the table with his head in his hands, elbows on the counter. He whistles, "Finally break your first heart? About time, loser."
"Oi! Say that again, asshole." Aomine wrestles him into a headlock, banging his elbow on the sink's neck-piece in the process. Kise flails but with his arms pinned under Aomine's, there's not much he can do in retaliation except rely on his main weapon, his loud, screechy raccoon voice.
When the bell rings, Aomine claps a hand over Kise's mouth and pulls him through the hallways so they can eat on the roof. Kise quiets down to a content hum.
The second time it happens, Aomine still doesn't really think much about it.
They're in study hall this time, in the library, even though it's a perfectly good day for a game of ball where they would play until they had stitches in their sides and had to put their hands on their knees, and then they would get watermelon flavored popsicles at the convenience store, the kind that are expensive but can be afforded with Kise's rich ass, as they walked back to school.
But no, they're in the library.
Kise has a open book over his head like some sort of lame hat as he plants his face into the wooden table to groan, "This is so boooorrriing, Aominecchi."
"You think you have to tell me that?" He retorts, leaning back in his chair, putting his feet up. "Why are we even still here?"
"Because I have to finish this chapter." Comes another groan.
"Then finish the chapter, you little whiny bitch." Aomine snarks.
"Rude," Kise sighs. But he obeys, staring at his textbook with a frown. At least he's actually trying now, Aomine thinks.
"I'm going to go take a walk." Aomine tells him. "You better be finished when I come back."
He receives incoherent mumbles.
Aomine walks past the history shelves, the fictional section, and almost makes it to the literature sector. But when he feels a tap on his shoulder, he throws a look at his shoulder and sees a doe-eyed female in sleek black hair that cascades over her shoulders that blinks up at him with an expression that makes her seem almost surprised as Aomine is. She shoves a folded piece of paper into his hand, a note that he only takes as a instinctual reaction, and then runs away before either of them say a word.
Aomine barely hesitates before he's unfolding the note, reading,
Dear Kise-kun,
(Oh. She wants him to be the messenger, Aomine figures.)
I don't know if you remember me but I had class with you last year. Ever since you helped me with my English after school, I couldn't stop thinking about you-
But Aomine can stop reading the idiotic note. He folds it back up, noting how the creases look blunt, like she'd read it over and over again to make sure he'd like it.
Aomine looks up, assuring himself he's alone, out of eye-shot from a certain blond - he truly doesn't care if the girl sees, she can just shove it. Then, he tears it up. One stroke, two stroke, then it's little pieces of confetti he's shoving into his pockets.
When he gets back to Kise's table, he yanks a fist of the blond's hair. Kise lets out a shrill protest and then they're being asked to leave by the two stern librarians normally at the front desk.
Kise hisses something about how this is all Aomine's fault. He replies, almost bored, that there was still enough time to head down to the store across the street. Kise snorts, says something about how Aomine never even really listens to him.
They choose ice cream sandwiches today.
Akashi asks them to watch the second-string in a practice match to help identify potential candidates for their first-string next year. Aomine and Kise resort to excusing themselves between groans of, "Ah, my stomach hurts!", "Really? Mine feels fine- Ow! Why would you do that, you ass- I mean, Akashicchi, I gotta go to the washroom."
In the change room, they pull out their phones and strike up a heated match on NBA All Stars.
Aomine wins the first game with ease.
"Damn, Aominecchi. Looks like you're actually decent at basketball." Kise sighs, standing up, pulling his arms over his head in a stretch.
A shoe connects with his ass.
Kise yelps.
"Shut up, pretty boy." Aomine sticks a hand out. "Go away and do something useful while I pick out a better lineup for you."
Kise hands over his phone with a grin playing on his lips. For what, Aomine has no clue, but Kise doesn't say anything else before he walks out the changing room and back onto the court.
Aomine debates between a few of his personal favorites versus the team with the most team chemistry and jolts when it suddenly vibrates. Aomine fumbles with it for a second and he must've pressed the stupid green Accept Call button because an irritatingly high-pitched, most definitely feminine voice even more traumatically whiny than Kise's - which is saying something- is blaring through.
"Hey, sweetheart, it's me, Rika from 2-A? My friend gave me your number and so like, I was thinking- if you're not busy after school, let's hang out at the movies. They're playing 'Last First Love' again, and I heard that was one of your favorite's-"
Aomine had officially lost interest at, 'Hey,' Now, he lets out a low, growling rumble of, "Look, I don't know who you are. Don't care. Don't know how you got my number, but delete it. Don't call me again."
There's a part of him that wants to laugh at how the caller has gone absolutely silent, probably with shock, maybe a touch of mortification- though he bites his tongue and waits patiently.
"Oh, I'm- sorry, I must have the wrong number-" She stammers, voice uncertain. There's a bit of rough crackling like she's thrown a hand over the speaker to yell at her friend without letting Aomine hear her.
"Delete it." He repeats, the growl in his voice growing louder.
"Oh okay," Comes the hurried reply. The call clicks off and Aomine hangs up too, finally rewarding himself a well-earned smirk.
Kise struts back in, grinning in reply to Aomine's expression. "Something nice happen? What did I miss?"
"Nothing," Aomine says. He knows the corners of his mouth just keep expanding.
"What, what?" Kise persists, looking rather interested, like he thinks Aomine has gossip. "Did you finally get a girl to say yes to your ugly face?
Aomine ushers him out of the changing room with a couple of bossy shoves. When Akashi looks at them through narrowed eyes, Aomine readies himself, but Akashi nods and says they should try to get in some practice today.
They play just a little longer after official practice ends, because Aomine still can't quite work his mouth into the shape for, No.
Though he does manage, "Hurry up, loser, give me the ball."
Smiling comes even easier.
As the days get longer, time spent on the court does too. Eventually, they start using the sun as a clock, playing long past school hours, under a sky that bleeds from blue to orange. Sometimes, if they've had practice beforehand and they're tired or Aomine is just in a mood or Kise says he has a lot of homework, they'll pick up their belongings scattered across the pavement and trudge over to Aomine's house.
After they kick off their shoes, Kise tends to leave his stuff right atop Aomine's, but he's still the host, so, "Kise, stop talking back, no, I don't care."
He flops onto the couch, burying his head in the armrest, taking in the leather scent, trying to ignore his own.
"Aominecchi, move over." A whine gets him to look up. Kise exhales. "I'm more tired than you are, remember?"
Aomine squints. He's almost sure Kise is trying to play him- dumb, prideful blond would never say shit like that- but lying down on his stomach is uncomfortable anyways. He sits upright. The leather is cool against his exposed calves, but the place where his shoulder brushes Kise's is warm.
Tingles, even.
"What do you want to do?" He asks, reaching forwards, grabbing the TV remote from the messy coffee table. "We could stream a movie. I heard..." He pauses, urging his brain on. "Last First Love was a half-decent movie."
A dribble of silence that follows but there's only so much heat his ears can take before he has to lower his eyes and talk to the ground. "What?"
"Last First Love? " Kise asks. In Aomine's peripheral vision, he sees the blond inching closer, then he feels the weighted set of a jaw on his shoulder. Can feel it gently pressured as Kise moves his mouth, "Aominecchi, I- I have no idea where you heard that-"
"Somewhere," Aomine grumbles. "Who cares. Are we watching it or not?"
Kise has already snatched the remote, flipping through Aomine's streaming program with a gleeful expression. "Was that a rhetorical question?"
"Was yours?" Aomine retorts.
Kise flips him off, but there's a playful glint in his eyes. "Shush. it's my favorite movie."
"I know that," Aomine defends himself, and before he realizes it, he has followed up with, "Why d'you think I chose it?"
There's a tiny pause where Aomine notes his hands are oddly damp. He would think Kise hadn't heard him but the blond begins to hum to the soft orchestral music drifting into the room, letting them know the movie has started. The spot where Kise's loose t-shirt clings onto his feels like it burns but Aomine doesn't relieve it.
Three minutes into the movie when they watch an undeniably pretty foreigner with hair even yellower than Kise's and eyes the color of seawater storming out her apartment, Kise casually says, "You know, I took my first girlfriend to this movie."
Aomine picks at the dirt under his nails, keeping his eyes on the screen.
The actress gets into the elevator, selects her floor, humming along to some trashy elevator music Aomine doesn't recognize. Kise says, "You know, I haven't gotten confessed to all week long. It's a miracle."
Aomine makes an noncommittal sound in his throat.
"Though, y'know, I was kinda waiting..." Kise's speech has interjected confusing little pauses. "Hoping... this one person... would man up..."
"Man up?" Aomine blurts out. His gaze finally snaps towards Kise. "Man up?"
There's a whole lot of odd, fluttery movement in his stomach now, because what- what does that even mean?
Is it a figure of speech? Or does Kise... like... a guy?
The stupid frantic thing in Aomine's stomach starts wiggling, and in his head, everything finally clicks in.
Kise... has a guy, has someone he likes. Someone he probably wants to hold hands with as they walk to the theater together. Someone he probably wants to text all the time, even when he's in class and he's supposed to be studying. Someone he probably wants to wrap his arms around and nudge, and brush up against, all the damn time-
"Yeah." Kise frowns, biting a lip, knitting his eyebrows. "Though maybe he wasn't being cowardly, maybe he was just being stupid. Because, y'know, he can be stupid... all the time."
Where before, Aomine had had a fit of... whatever that emotion had been, he now fuels up on concentrated irritation. "That's rich, coming from you." He scoffs. Part of him urges him to shut up before he digs himself into a hole, the other part of him knows he has already done that.
"What does that mean?"
"I don't know," Aomine tosses his head, looking away from the other. Man, the piece of lint on his left sock feels more welcoming at this point. "What do you want it to mean?"
Ow.
Aomine's head whips around, giving Kise the full wrath of his glare. "You shit."
Kise shrugs, unconcerned. Apparently, he doesn't remember attacking first is basically asking Aomine to beat his dumb ass. But then Kise opens his mouth, then Kise is saying,"Aominecchi, have you ever wondered whether you were dense?"
"Hahh?" He says, articulate as ever. His heart is reacting acting oddly, beating faster. Maybe, yes, probably, why does he even care? "What are you going on about, baka?"
Kise groans, low and annoyed, and for a second, Aomine figures he's going to get punched for some act of offense he doesn't remember doing. The next thing he knows, Kise's lips are burning up his.
Fuck, Aomine thinks, before not thinking anymore.
He vaguely remembers twisting his tongue against Kise's and slender fingers threading through his hair with the right mix of care and passion. Then Kise stops leaning in, takes the hand on the couch in between them back and stares.
Aomine stares right back. The first time he tries to voice the mess of thoughts into coherent words, he fails remarkably. The second time, he gives a hoarse murmur, "What- what was that?"
"...damn, you're stupid, " Kise says after a moment, exasperation in voice and in facial expression- though the latter of the two allows itself a touch of fondness, before he looks away. And when he swipes a hand over the strands of yellow Aomine had tousled, fingering them like they told him, made him believe- this was really happening, he grumbles, "Just date me already."
Aomine never really could say no.