Chapter 11: Fall for You

Summary: In which Akashi plays a one-on-one against Furihata.

Furihata has no idea what he is doing with his life.

He has gone to bed telling himself repetitively that he will not – absolutely will not – let himself be swept away by Akashi Seijuuro. No matter how mature Akashi may be for his age, Furihata is still the adult here and he should not be encouraging any kind of romantic relationship between them. Even if Akashi makes his blood rush hot and his chest beat hard like no one else before. Even if he may never feel this intense, deep ache longing for anyone else like this again. It doesn't matter. Some things are inappropriate, and there are rules, and that is that.

…or so Furihata tells himself.

Yet here he is, standing on an outdoor court about to play basketball with the one and only Akashi Seijuuro. One-on-one. On a weekend.

This is… definitely a date. Furihata thinks. And I'm a complete failure for letting it happen.

But what can Furihata do when Akashi calls him up in the morning telling him he's waiting outside of his door, and then holds up a basketball and smiles at him in that subtle, gentle, heart-melting way that Furihata swears is peeled right out of a shoujo manga.

Plus, it's only polite when Akashi's already at his place. And Akashi's only in Tokyo for the weekend anyways. And it's just a basketball game, what's the harm? Plus, Furihata's always wondered what it would be like to play against Akashi, who's the captain of the Generation of Miracles and, let's be real, that's an opportunity any basketball player would jump at, and- and all of this has nothing to do with how Furihata felt his heart properly fall out of his chest when he saw Akashi's smile, not at all-

-Apart from the fact that even as a child Akashi never smiled much, so those rare moments had always been precious to Furihata. Akashi's few and far between smiles back then made Furihata want to spoil him to anything and everything he wanted.

Even ten years later, not much has changed in that regard.

"Are you ready, Kouki?" Akashi says, casually bouncing the ball at his side. Even watching him like this, Furihata can tell that Akashi's control of the ball is exceptional.

"Ah- y-yup."

"First to five per game?" Akashi holds up five fingers.

Furihata nods, and in an attempt to not look completely terrified, he adds, "D-don't hold back on me."

Akashi's lips quirk, "I won't."

As soon as Akashi's hand comes down, his stance changes. His eyes sharpen, narrowing down and focusing as he drops his knees and almost- transform. Even the air around him prickles with a thickened aura of intimidation. Chills run down the back of Furihata's neck and arms as he watches Akashi dribble towards him, and it suddenly becomes clear to Furihata that he has never, in his entire history of playing, faced an opponent of this caliber.

If the aces he went up against before in the inter-High and the university games were beasts, then Akashi is beyond that, beyond monstrous, almost like-

-a god.

Furihata thinks in awe as he watches Akashi perform a perfectly graceful lay-up; meanwhile, Furihata is down on his butt on the floor where he has landed after Akashi ankle-broke him. For the third time.

"5-0 to me," Akashi says, as the ball whooshes through the hoop without grazing the rim. He offers Furihata his hand, "Another round?"

Furihata takes it to get up and tries not to stare down at his palm afterwards like some star struck fanatic who just got a chance to shake hands with their lifelong idol. "S-sure."

Akashi's play isn't feral like most ace basketball players; it's actually quite the opposite. He's elegant in his movements, high-level techniques absolutely textbook-perfect without a single drop of energy wasted. He's fast, too. As if he can always tell what Furihata is going to do even before Furihata does it. It had been incredible to watch Akashi play on the court before, but playing against him, up close like this, is something else completely.

Furihata can't even get himself to feel frustrated or down about how he hasn't gotten even a single shot in who-knows how many games. Half the time Furihata is too distracted being amazed at Akashi's skills.

Not that Furihata isn't trying, because he is. Furihata is sweating bullets, the tips of his hair dripping, the back of his t-shirt damp and sticking to his skin. He's out of breath like he hadn't been in a long time, and he's pretty sure he's overheating but his blood is thrumming with excitement and even when his lungs are screaming at him and his knees feel like they're about to give Furihata still wants to play.

"O-one more round!"

"Are you sure?" Akashi, for his part, is only panting just lightly, an attractive sheen of sweat on his skin. "Do you want to have a break first?"

"One more, then rest."

Furihata finds himself grinning uncontrollably. It doesn't even matter that he's losing by a mile. It's been far too long since Furihata had felt this alive.

But there is a limit to his body; especially when Furihata's too busy watching Akashi and not really concentrating on what he's doing. That's when Furihata trips – over a pebble, his shoelaces, his own leg, something – and Akashi, going in for a drive and unsuspecting of this unintended, non-ankle-break fall, collides fully into him.

"Uwah-!"

They crash into the ground, Furihata landing on his back followed closely by Akashi falling right on top of him.

"Whoa- A-Akashi-kun, are you okay?" Furihata pushes up on his elbows to peer at the younger.

Akashi's face is completely blank, apart from his eyes that are slightly widened.

"Akashi-kun…?" Oh god, what have I done? Furihata panics. He's not even blinking! Oh crap, crap, crap, is he in shock or something? Or- or a concussion? Fuck, I broke Akashi Seijuuro, what do I dooo-

"I'm—fine." Akashi speaks, finally.

"Oh thank goodness," Furihata lets out a massive sigh of relief, "You scared me there."

"I was just-" Akashi begins, pushing himself up onto his palms and turning his head to look around himself with an almost bewildered expression. "-intrigued."

"I-intrigued?" That's new. Definitely not a reaction Furihata would personally have in this situation. "Why?"

"I think," Akashi blinks, perplexed, "…I forgot what it felt like to fall over."

Furihata stares at him. Akashi stares back.

"Pfft-"

Then Furihata bursts out laughing, because that is exactly something that Akashi and only Akashi would say. And it's so cute that someone so emperor-like can be so baffled by something like this that it's funny. Not to mention, the look on Akashi's face—

Furihata pauses then, and almost chokes on his laugh because Akashi is laughing too. Not just a scoff or a chuckle, either, but properly laughing; light and open, his red eyes curved into two semilunar slits.

And, god, if it isn't the most beautiful thing Furihata has ever seen.

They dissolve in a fit of giggles together, all the while Furihata's heart pounds out of his chest. He tries to convince himself that it's from the adrenaline of the game, but one look at Akashi's face and he knows he cannot deny the rush of pure affection he feels for this boy. And there it is, that ache. A familiar one, now, and Furihata doesn't have a clue how to make it go away. Isn't even sure if he wants it to.

Their laughter dies down and all of a sudden it becomes very apparent to Furihata that Akashi is practically lying on top of him; their legs entangled; their faces barely inches apart.

Akashi seems to have realized this as well, for his expression has become serious as he locks eyes with Furihata.

' –You will be mine, Kouki.'

The words ring in his head, and Furihata suddenly finds it difficult to breathe. Memories from yesterday's kiss are still too vivid in his mind; the taste of Akashi's lips still lingering on the tip of his tongue.

Akashi moves closer, and Furihata twitches, his pulse quickening.

"You look like you want to run from me," Akashi murmurs, "And yet you don't look away from my eyes."

I can't. Furihata wants to say. Akashi's eyes are like black holes to him – once he's sucked in, there's no escape, no coming back out.

Akashi's face closes in even more, and Furihata's breath hitches. His chest is tight with anticipation, his palms sweaty, his lips dry. Part-nervously and part-subconsciously, Furihata licks his lips to wet them.

Crimson eyes flicker down to his mouth in a split second, and when it flits back up to Furihata's eyes, Akashi's red orbs are dark with desire.

Furihata sucks in a breath, realizing his mistake. Because that flick of his tongue can be interpreted as nothing short of an invitation, and Furihata is freaking out because this is so far from what he planned not to do with Akashi, and he knew coming out here with him today was a bad idea, damn it.

He stammers, trying to explain himself, "Ano, j-just now, that wasn't- I-"

"I know, Kouki." Akashi gazes at him evenly. "I'm not going to kiss you."

Furihata freezes, stunned.

And it isn't quite hurt that he feels but more like someone had punctured his heart and it's deflating like a balloon. There's relief in there somewhere, but it's hard to notice when it's swallowed up in all the other confusing, crushing emotions Furihata doesn't want to acknowledge. Disappointment. Embarassment. Rejection.

I always knew he's too good for me.

Yeah, that one definitely stings.

Akashi must have seen the look on his face because he gently amends, "It's not because I don't want to."

Furihata blinks rapidly at him, emotions thrown right back on the rollercoaster once again.

"I promised I won't touch Kouki until you agree to be mine, and I intend to keep to that promise. I'm only doing this for you, because you need me to. You're persistent to your values, and I respect that. However, if it were up to me…" Akashi's thumb trails along Furihata's cheekbone, and he murmurs softly, "I'd kiss you all the time. Every single day."

Furihata flushes all the way to his ears.

"I'm not very patient," Akashi says, almost petulantly, before he pinches Furihata's cheek, "So hurry up and become mine already, Kouki."

Shit, that's cute. So cute. He's- Sei-kun's perfect. Furihata thinks, heart swelling at the nostalgic feeling of Akashi's finger pads at his cheeks.

Furihata is struck with an impulsive, intense, almost violent urge to ruffle Akashi's hair and feel those soft strands of red through his fingers. He reaches out reflexively, before he catches himself and his hand abruptly freezes mid-air.

What am I doing…? Furihata curls his hand back, hoping Akashi hasn't noticed. But before he can fully retract his arm, Akashi grabs his wrist.

"You're bleeding." Akashi frowns.

"Eh?" Furihata blinks, peering down at his arm – and surely enough, his elbow is dripping with blood. "Ah! I must've scraped it when we fell over."

Akashi looks very displeased, immediately getting up on his feet. "This is my responsibility."

"I-it's no big deal, really- wait, Akashi-kun, where are you going?"

"Wait here," Akashi orders, then when Furihata tries to get up, he sharply commands, "No, don't move. I will be back in a minute. Stay."

"But it's- just a scrape…?" Furihata says, but Akashi has already walked off, leaving Furihata sitting on the floor trying not to feel like a dog that's just been told to 'stay' by its master. It probably says a lot about Furihata that he's actually listened and is staying right where he's told. But can anyone really blame him when Akashi's using that tone of voice?

In exactly one minute, Akashi returns, mobile phone in one hand. When he sees Furihata waiting for him in the exact same position he left him in, he raises an eyebrow, half surprised and half amused. "You really did 'stay', huh."

Furihata's cheeks grow hot, "Y-you were the one who told me to-!"

If Akashi weren't so concerned about Furihata's elbow he probably would have chuckled. For now, his lips only quirk as he extends his free hand to Furihata's, "Alright. Let's go, Kouki."

Furihata takes his hand and gets up, "Um, where are we going?"

"To get your injury treated." Akashi says, face serious.

'Injury' he says. But it's literally just a scrape? Furihata really doesn't think this is that big of a deal, but Akashi seems to think so and Furihata doesn't feel like he could argue with Akashi normally, let alone when he looks this determined. So he decides to say nothing about it, even as they leave the basketball court and are walking down the street.

They walk past two blocks before Furihata realizes, with a skip of his heartbeat, that Akashi is still holding his hand.

Furihata decides not to say anything about that, either.

Out of all the Generation of Miracles, Aomine Daiki is the one that Akashi finds most difficult to handle. He's the ace as much as he is the Problem Child; definitely not Akashi's first choice to go to in Tokyo when there are plenty others he could visit – like Midorima, or Kuroko, or Momoi. It just so happens that Aomine conveniently lives the closest to the basketball court Akashi took Furihata to, and Akashi doesn't want to waste a single minute where Furihata's concerned.

It makes so much sense, really, because of course Aomine grew up next to a street basketball court.

Helpful, when Akashi wants access to a first aid kit as soon as possible. Less helpful, however, is the way Aomine keeps staring at Furihata and ogling him up and down until the poor man is positively stuttering and stammering over every other word. Evidently, Furihata doesn't deal well with intimidating people who stare. Akashi finds it adorable, but only strictly limited to when it's Akashi who's making him squirm. Does that make him a sadist? Maybe a little.

"Dude." Aomine says to Akashi, eyes wide, when Furihata excuses himself to the bathroom to wash the dirt off his arms.

"Yes, Daiki?" Akashi almost sighs.

"This guy?" Aomine looks flabbergasted, "When Takao said you're hitting on someone, I thought-" Honestly, Aomine's first thought when he heard was 'holy shit, I feel sorry for the poor thing' but he omits that part, "-I didn't think it'd be- well, a guy for one. Man, since when did you even swing that way?"

"For as long as you and Ryouta have been romping like rabbits, probably." Akashi says, calmly taking a sip of tea. He's managed to learn more than a few things from his recent conversations with Takao Kazunari – because, wow, Shintarou's boyfriend sure can talk – this little piece of golden information included.

The boobs-obsessed Aomine Daiki. Who would've thought?

The way Aomine's jaw drops is very satisfying.

"What the fuck- I'm not- Kise isn't-"

"Oi, Aominecchi! You've run out of conditioner again, I told you it was running out last time, you know I don't like to wash my hair without- ooh, hello Akashicchi! What are you doing here?" Almost on queue, Kise Ryouta in the flesh appears around the corridor wearing nothing but a dark blue towel tied loosely around his waist, hair still damp and body still shining with water droplets, looking like he just stepped straight out of a magazine shoot.

The multiple deep bruises that peppered his neck and chest don't escape Akashi's notice, either.

"Hello, Ryouta," Akashi side-glances at Aomine with one eyebrow raised, "I didn't expect to see you here."

Aomine groans, burying his face in his hands. "God damn it, Kisee."

"Huh? What did I do?" Kise tilts his head innocently. Unfortunately, the motion only serves to reveal more purple blotches and bite marks on the nape of his pale skin.

Akashi raises another eyebrow at Aomine.

"Fuck- just-" Aomine throws a pillow at Kise, "Put some fucking clothes on."

What is it with blondes and being naked in inappropriate places? Kagami's American mentor is one, and now Kise. Even if they're both smoking hot and have bodies that Aomine would be more than happy to have his hands and teeth all over, this is Japan, and the point still stands.

Kise catches the pillow with ease, stretching his long arms and humming uncaringly, "Aominecchi's so grumpy today, hm?"

Aomine is going to strangle him. Later. Possibly whilst pounding him vigorously into the bed and leaving a much larger bruise on that pale neck.

At this point, Furihata returns to the living room, "Um, sorry to be a bother, but I can't seem to find any-" He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of half-naked Kise standing in the doorway in all his sparkly supermodel glory. Furihata swallows, "-t-towels."

Holy cow, it's Kise Ryouta.

One does not go through life having an interest in both men and basketball without having at least a vague idea who Kise Ryouta is.

Kise, noticing the newcomer's star struck expression, smoothly slips into top-model mode and leans against the doorframe with his perfectly toned arm. He smiles, eyelashes fluttering, pheromones practically oozing out of his (hardly visible) pores, "Oh, hello there. I'm Kise Ryouta. You must be here with Akashicchi?"

Furihata is too stunned to even respond.

Aomine appears behind Kise to give him a whack to the back of his head just as Akashi strides over to retrieve the currently malfunctioning Furihata.

"Stop posing, we all know you're hot already," Aomine scowls, scuffing the top of Kise's head again for good measure.

"Oww," Kise pouts, "Don't know what you're talking about, Aominecchi, I'm totally not posing."

"Yeah, right."

"Kouki, how is your elbow?" Akashi has better things to be concerned about than his overbearing ex-teammates.

"Ah-" Furihata shakes out of his stupor when Akashi touches his side, "It's fine, really. It's not deep or anything."

He lifts his arm to show Akashi, who inspects it closely. True, the cut isn't deep, but the scrape stretches long from Furihata's olecranon until halfway to his wrist. Akashi nods, "We don't have to bandage it, but I'd like to disinfect it."

"Okay," Furihata agrees easily.

That- surprises Akashi. Considering how stubborn Furihata has been about everything else, he'd expected a fight on this too. Having Furihata compliant and docile and willing – like when he curiously let Akashi hold his hand all the way to Aomine's apartment – is… nice. It pleases Akashi more than he thought it would, and his hands curl and uncurl at his sides, wanting to pull Furihata close and bury his nose into that nest of soft brown hair.

"Akashicchi, aren't you going to introduce us?" Kise says, hand swatting away Aomine who is poking childishly at his bruises. Aomine tries to bite at Kise's fingers instead, to which Kise gives his shoulder a slap. "Oi. No biting."

"Not until you get properly dressed and are in an acceptably presentable state, Ryouta," Akashi chides, then turns on Aomine, "And you, Daiki, are being inappropriate. Restrain yourself while you have guests, at the very least."

Aomine rolls his eyes, "Whatever, Mom."

Akashi narrows his gaze.

"Ahh, suddenly it's freezing out here! Come on, Aominecchi, find me some clothes I can borrow," Kise quickly swings his arm around Aomine to usher him out of the room before Akashi can murder him with his eyes.

"Hah? But you know where all my stuff-"

"Shh! Aominecchi!" Kise hisses, elbowing his side. Gosh, Aomine is dumb sometimes.

The two disappear up the stairs, but their noises can still be heard – thrashing and thumping and Kise squealing as Aomine presumably snatches his towel away from him, leaving him butt-naked. More thudding of heavy footsteps follows; Aomine's raucous laughter and Kise's infectious giggling ringing in the air. Furihata can't help but snicker – Kise and Aomine may look like they can pass for being the same age as Furihata but they're definitely still young at heart.

Akashi sighs, shaking his head as they move to the sofa, "I apologize on behalf of my ex-teammates."

"Oh, not at all," Furihata smiles, an amused twinkle in his brown eyes, "They call you mom?"

"Apparently Daiki thinks I am overbearing and 'naggy' when I instruct him to do things," Akashi resignedly explains as he opens the first aid kit, "All for his own benefit, I might add. My whole team should be grateful. Give me your hand."

"That's kind of cute," Furihata says as he places his hand on Akashi's palm – and is embarrassed when he realizes, once again, how dog-like that action is. He clears his throat, trying to cover up, "Is- was there a team 'dad'?"

At this, Akashi's lips quirk. "Shintarou."

"Hehhhh. That's- well, it makes sense, but I think Midorima-kun seems even more like a 'mothering' type than Akashi-kun, though. Hmm," Furihata considers this seriously. "Maybe it's a height thing? Because Midorima-kun is a lot tal- ow, ow, ow-! A-Akashi-kun that stings!"

Furihata yelps and jumps when Akashi suddenly dabs a swab of alcohol mercilessly over his elbow.

"Hold still, Kouki," Akashi scolds.

Furihata is pretty sure Akashi isn't pouting – because that's ridiculous, of course Akashi doesn't pout – but there's no better term to describe the grumpy look on the younger's face. It may have been funnier if Akashi isn't drowning his wounds in concentrated alcohol that burns like acid.

"Ow-" Furihata whines, hissing when Akashi moves the cotton swab over a flap of skin. "C-can we stop now?"

"Not yet. I want to make sure there aren't any contaminants left in there."

"But it looks clean…"

"I'm positive you're aware that microorganisms can't be seen with the naked eye, so no, 'looking clean' isn't satisfactory. I'm taking all precautions."

"But-" Furihata jolts again when the alcohol seeps into the deepest part of the scrape. "-!" Unintentionally, tiny drops of tears form at the corner of his eyes, "—Akashi-kun, it hurts."

Akashi pauses at Furihata's small voice. His red orbs finally look up from Furihata's elbow to his face, and at the sight of Furihata's glistening tears, Akashi stills his hand.

"Akashi-kun...?" Furihata peers up at him with big, round brown eyes.

Like a puppy. He's just like a puppy.

Akashi sighs heavily, putting down the cotton pad, "You don't play fair, Kouki."

"H-huh?"

Akashi promptly stands up and shuts away the first aid kit, all the while very deliberately not looking at Furihata. Because he can't look at Furihata when Furihata's looking at him like that. Like he's pleading him, and Akashi cannot handle it.

It's strange. Furihata, no matter which way you look at him, is plain. There is nothing that is remarkable about him – no extraordinary features, average from height to weight, from head to toe. He's actually a little on the scrawny side, except for a slight hint of muscles from the occasional basketball game here and there. The only thing that sets him apart from the common Japanese man is his hair and eyes that are naturally light-set to the colour of heavily creamed lattes. But even then, his irises are too small, making his eyes look wider apart than they actually are.

And yet, Akashi Seijuuro – Prince of Rakuzan, Emperor of the court, sole heir to the Akashi clan – struggles to look into those wild eyes and not want to grab Furihata by the collar and kiss the life out of him; to hold him so close against his chest that he's almost folded into him; to worship Furihata until he can do nothing else but moan Akashi's name.

'Sei-kun…'

Akashi grits his teeth, pinching between his eyebrows and closing his eyes to will the image of a flushed and panting and messy Furihata beneath him away.

Furihata stands, reaching out to him, "Akashi-kun, are you-"

"Don't." Akashi snaps, the word coming out sharper than he intended. He immediately regrets it when Furihata jerks away from him, hand shrinking as though burned.

"I- I'm sorry," Furihata isn't even looking at him, eyes downcast to the floor, hands tucked close to his side.

Damn it. Akashi cards his fingers through his own hair. He takes a step towards Furihata, "Kouki, that wasn't-"

"Akashicchi, I'm dooone! Now can you introduce me to your- oh." Kise, who has been bounding enthusiastically down the stairs, stops in his tracks mid-skip when he notices the tension in the room. "Er… should I come back later?"

"Yes, Ryouta," Akashi speaks through his teeth.

The rate at which Kise backs away is quite impressive, "Oookay, I'll just get back to Aominecchi and let him know-"

"A-ano!" Furihata suddenly speaks up, catching both of their attentions. "T-that's- Kise-kun, it's alright. You don't have to go. I was just about to leave anyways."

Akashi frowns.

"Uhh, are you sure?" Kise cautiously glances at Akashi. "You're totally welcome to stay. I mean, it's Aominecchi's place, but I'm sure he doesn't mind." Akashicchi's way too scary for him to say anything about it, either way.

"Yes, I'm sure, t-thank you. And please tell Aomine-kun I said thank you as well," Furihata is already putting on his shoes.

Akashi is next to him in a second. His voice is low when he speaks, "You're leaving?"

"Ah, y-yes. It's- getting late, and tomorrow's school day and I need to get up early, and- and there's a new topic coming up so I should go prepare for the lesson, so, um…" Furihata doesn't know why he's making so many excuses. He focuses instead on tying his shoelaces, finding them easier to think about than Akashi's shadow looming over him.

"I'm coming with you." Akashi decides, slipping on his shoes as well.

"E-eh?" Furihata gulps, still not looking up to face Akashi, "But- your friends-"

"Daiki and Ryouta will be just fine. I'll walk you home."

"But, um, that's really not necessary-"

"Kouki," Akashi brushes the back of his hand against Furihata's, "I want to walk you home."

Furihata rolls in his lips.

It would be better if he says no. Furihata knows this. The more time he spends with Akashi, the deeper he plunges, and the harder it is to turn back. Furihata knows he shouldn't have even come out with Akashi in the first place, knows how hard and fast he's falling, knows how dangerous it is the way his eyes already follow Akashi across the room. He knows. Which is why he shouldn't, definitely, unquestionably should not-

Akashi's thumb brushes along the inner indent of Furihata's palm, his voice a gentle whisper, "If you'll allow me."

"…o-okay."

Weak! Too weak!

Furihata is an idiot; with little to no self-control when it comes to Akashi, apparently.

"Did you see that, Aominecchi?"

As soon as the door shuts, Kise turns to Aomine who may or may not have been spying on Akashi and Furihata behind the stairs the whole time. Kise points at the front door with wide-blown golden eyes, "Oh my god, Aominecchi, did you see?"

"Yeah, yeah, I saw," Aomine yawns, coming up to Kise to loop an arm around his waist. "Man, Akashi's so whipped. The guy's so normal-looking, too. Weird."

"Rude, Aominecchi. Also, isn't it the other way around?" Kise tilts his head, giggling when Aomine nuzzles his face into the hollow of his collarbone. "That tickles."

Aomine smirks and pinches Kise's thigh, "How is it the other way 'round? Didn't you see the way Akashi asked him for permission? Freaking Akashi. Asking for permission to walk some dumb guy home. Psh, come on."

Kise playfully smacks his hand away, "But sensei-guy literally gave in like that – snap! – when Akashicchi barely touched him, no? Seems like he'd do anything for Akashicchi, from what I've seen."

"He's not gonna be sticking it in Akashi, that's for sure," Aomine snorts. "Hey, how long do you think it'll take until they fuck?"

"Aominecchi!" Kise gasps, scandalized.

"Don't act like you haven't thought about it," Aomine shrugs.

"Hmph," It might be true but it's not like Kise's going to admit it. Keeping up appearances and all. "Didn't Midorimacchi say Akashicchi's gonna hold back until sensei-san gives him the 'okay' though? Like, no kissing or anything."

"What- really?" Aomine raises his brows, "Fuck, that's rough. That's- what the hell, I never thought I'd say this, but, damn, I feel sorry for Akashi."

Kise teasingly pokes Aomine in the abs. "Of course you'd say that."

Aomine only grins, catching his hand, "As if you don't love it."

Kise rolls his eyes, "Whatever makes you sleep at night, Aominecchi."

It might be true but it's not like Kise's going to admit it. Keeping up appearances and all.

Akashi hasn't said a word since they left Aomine's apartment.

Which would normally be fine; Furihata usually even likes how they can settle in silences together without feeling the awkward need to strike conversation. Comfortable silences are good – great, actually, and rare to find with people, too. But this – this silence where Akashi is right next to him, walking right in step with him, but doesn't even look once in his direction – this silence is haunting.

Furihata doesn't even know what he's done wrong. He must've done something. Knowing him, the possibilities for error are endless. Did he do something that could've offended Akashi? Or, even worse, upset him? Or maybe Akashi has finally figured it out that this isn't worth it after all; that Furihata isn't worth the time or the effort and that there are so many more obviously better choices out there for him to choose from so why should he even bother with Furihata who's so- so Furihata.

Clumsy. Inelegant. Ordinary at best, and rather dull, if he's to be completely honest with himself. It doesn't make sense- has never made sense to Furihata why Akashi would be even the slightest bit interested in him.

Just when Furihata is sinking deep into his own self-deprecation, Akashi stops walking.

"Oh-" Furihata is so lost in thought it actually takes him seven steps before he notices the absence of Akashi beside him. He turns, "Akashi-kun…?"

"Are you angry at me, Kouki?" Akashi says seriously, staring at him with incredibly intense eyes.

"H-huh?" Furihata points at himself and almost squeaks, "Me?"

Akashi only stares at him, searching his face.

"But-" But I thought you were the one who's mad. Furihata looks at a loss, "Why would I- what makes you think that?"

"You haven't said a word to me since we started walking."

"Eh?" That's it? That's all it is? Did he psyche himself out for nothing? "Akashi-kun hasn't said anything either, though."

"And just now you were in such a hurry to leave," -me. The words 'leave me' hang on Akashi's lips but he shuts it down; there's a wound that's never healed properly.

"T-That's because I was imposing on your friends and I don't even know them."

"But I-" Akashi frowns, red eyebrows knotting just like he used to do as a child, "I scraped your arm."

"I tripped! That's my own fault – happens too often, really," Furihata shakes his head, "Actually, I'm the one who made you fall over, Akashi-kun. And you- well, I'm assuming you never do that."

"No, I don't." Akashi agrees, and then remembers, "Not ever since the last time you picked me up when I scratched my knee."

"I picked- huh? But that was like- you were like three!" Furihata gawks.

"Seven, actually."

"I know! I was just, um, hyperbolizing," Wow, that is definitely not a word that has been in Furihata's dictionary until Akashi and his extensive vocabulary has been reintroduced into his life.

Akashi nods, "That was the first time you picked me up."

"You didn't like being picked up," Furihata has to smile, remembering how Akashi had squawked like a little parrot – indignant and embarrassed and so very very adorable.

"Not when I haven't consented to it. I was perfectly fine when you carried me back from the fireworks festival."

"But that time you were asleep."

"Ah," Akashi's lips curl. "Was I now?"

"You were- wait, what- are you saying you weren't?" Furihata turns to look at him, and the sly smirk on Akashi's face gives it all away. "You're telling me you were awake the whole time and yet you still made me carry you all the way home?"

"I was sleepy," Akashi says, nonchalantly.

Furihata feels a weird delayed sense of being cheated, "It's more like Akashi-kun just likes being able to trick me."

Akashi tuts, "What a terrible thing to accuse a child of."

"Oh no, Akashi-kun, you don't get to play that card," Furihata huffs, "You were like eight then, too! You were quite heavy, you know!"

"How rude, Kouki." Akashi says, but he is smiling.

"Not as rude as tricking someone into carrying you all the way home!" Furihata almost-yells. He's not angry, though – more amused, really, that it's only now, ten years later that he's finding out about yet another of little Akashi's machinations.

Akashi turns to him with raised brows, "If you wish I can carry you home right now to make it up to you."

"How is that- I don't want- it doesn't work that way!" Furihata is laughing now.

Akashi looks at him fondly. Before he realizes it, he's reaching out to Furihata, to touch those soft cheeks he remembers so well-

"Ah, my place is just around this-" Furihata turns just in time to see Akashi's hand, suspended in mid-air. He swallows, words dying in his throat.

Akashi curls his fingers, changing to pointing at the direction they're heading instead, "Around this corner?"

"Y-yeah," Furihata's voice is only slightly shaky.

They reach Furihata's apartment then, and Akashi walks Furihata right to the front door.

"Ano- thank you for walking me home, Akashi-kun," Furihata dips into a tiny bow, "You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to," Akashi says, before adding in a quieter voice, "I thought I had angered you or upset you when you said you were leaving and I- really dislike feeling that way."

"I-" Furihata swallows, "Well, I wasn't angry or anything, so it's all good."

Akashi smirks, "Even though I did fool you into carrying me all those years ago?"

Furihata chuckles, shaking his head. In moments like these, Akashi reminds him exactly why Furihata was so taken by the little redheaded child with those too-big red eyes in the first place. Akashi is charming. Just being with him makes Furihata's chest feel warm and fluffy inside. In a sudden rush of pure honesty, Furihata murmurs, "I'm never angry with you, Akashi-kun. I don't think I can be."

Akashi stares at him.

Oh, no. That's too much. I've said too much… Furihata bites his lower lip.

Akashi's eyes are soft; his pupils dilated. As though mesmerized, his hand reaches out towards Furihata once more—

Furihata subconsciously holds his breath.

-but, once again, Akashi stops right before his fingers could make contact with Furihata's skin, hand retracting back reluctantly.

A gush of wind blows past them and Furihata shivers, unsure whether it's more of an external or internal chill that he feels.

"You should go inside," Akashi says, voice tight.

"R-right," Furihata fumbles with the keys for a second before he manages to open the door. He swings it half-open, before he turns back to look at Akashi, hand still on the doorknob. "How- how are you getting home?"

"I'm returning to Rakuzan for the week so my driver will take me to the train station," Akashi is looking at him very intently.

"Rakuzan… that's Kyoto isn't it?" Furihata already knows Rakuzan is in Kyoto, so he doesn't know why he's asking Akashi, but he just- doesn't want to go inside. Not just yet.

"Yes, that's correct," Akashi says, red orbs still on Furihata almost unblinkingly.

They linger like that, Furihata hanging on his half-open door and Akashi not leaving him either, all the while unable to look away from each other's eyes. Lingering, lingering.

Something feels like it's about to break, but neither of them are moving.

It would be so easy to invite him in. Furihata thinks, hand tightening on the doorknob. Even easier to pull him in for a kiss.

He stomps those thoughts down fast, sealing them away in the back of his mind. Furihata clears his throat, "P-Please travel back safely, Akashi-kun."

Akashi nods stiffly, "I'll call you, Kouki."

Please do. I'd like that. Very much. Furihata only nods back quickly, not trusting himself to speak. He waves weakly at Akashi, then, and it is with great effort that he finally turns away, steps inside his flat, and shuts the door behind him.

As soon as the door's lock clicks into place, Furihata immediately sinks to the floor.

That was- close.

He exhales heavily, hugging his knees close to his chest, his fingers twitching in yearning, his burning face buried in-between his knees, feeling breathless and hollow and achingly hard for Akashi's touch.

A/N: Rating just got bumped up to M, but don't get too excited guys, the slow burn continues – even though it is burning a teeny bit faster now (the M rating is more because of the AoKi than the AkaFuri at this point, woops. I blame Aomine entirely).

As always, thank you for all the support for this fic! Do let me know your thoughts about this chapter – all your comments make my day :D I know some of you were worried I was gonna drop this fic but rest assured I will write this until the end. My average update rate is from 1-to-3-months-ish which I know is painfully slow, but I want to produce the best work possible, so please bear with me. xx