Chapter 5
They're both exhausted from their rather adventurous afternoon of roaming Tokyo. Not to mention that they're sated from the meal they had eaten not that long prior to them reaching Kise's apartment. Aomine is lying on Kise's couch, his hands resting behind his head as he props his feet up on new cushions. And it's quiet. Unbearably quiet, for Kise's taste—though, with Aomine, he doesn't mind so much. Kise is a bit surprised; he would think Aomine would go home by then, considering they spent the whole day together. But Aomine had claimed that he'd rather hang out with Kise for a bit longer than go home to see Kagami's face.
Kise peeks over at the tanned male every so often to make sure that he's still awake, and Aomine shoots him a glance that seems weary and indifferent; as though he doesn't mind that Kise is checking on him. It's a look that makes Kise melt, because Aomine looks so carefree and at ease. Kise will flash him a smile that stretches from cheek to cheek before averting his gaze, and if Aomine could hear, he'd probably ask for his opinion on the color he is planning to paint his walls.
"Why are you painting your walls?" Aomine finally asks verbally as though he can read Kise's mind. Kise looks over his shoulder at the other with a slightly surprised look, because he didn't expect Aomine to be the one to disrupt the prolonged silence that Kise had seemed to grown accustomed to.
It's habitual, for Kise to open his mouth to speak, but his mouth closes just as fast as it opens, and he turns towards Aomine so that he can sign. Because the color is rather dull in here.
"Yeah, but won't you have to paint the walls back before you move out?" Aomine keeps his hands behind his head.
I don't mind… Kise signs. Honey-brown orbs roam over the bare walls, inspecting how vacant and empty his apartment felt without having any hanging pictures or painted color to decorate them.
Aomine sits up with a mysterious look that makes Kise's stomach churn in an odd way. He watches as the other's navy irises examine the walls as well, his expression indecipherable, and his eyes half-lidded. After a while of silent glaring, Aomine's eyes shift back over to Kise, then down to the closed bucket of pain by his feet.
Why blue? Aomine asks.
Kise momentarily looks down at the bucket as well, and then shrugs as he brings his gaze back up. It compliments my hair, he teases with a grin, and a small chuckle slips past his lips.
You're an idiot, Aomine responds with a look that shows he's unamused.
How mean of you, Kise feigns a pout. Aomine's expression remains unwavering, and eventually Kise's playful demeanor dies down, though his smile remains. It's as though the other knew there was more behind his reasoning, the way his blue eyes bore into his skin and ate at his nerves.
I feel like this color will look beautiful when the sunlight hits it, Kise finally admits with a nod of his head.
Both of their eyes automatically trail to the window that he has yet to hang curtains over. Kise contemplates leaving it that way. He enjoys the open feeling of not having the window covered; the way the light attractively peeks through the glass as the sun begins to rise and set. Such as at that moment; the orange light of dusk illuminates the dim room, and reflects attractively off of the other's tanned skin. It's mesmerizing… distracting, and Kise can't help but stare whenever he has the chance.
It matches my hair, Aomine says, and Kise lifts his eyes from Aomine's skin to the cobalt strands of his hair. Just as Kise expects, the sunlight reflects stunningly off of the color…
That's ridiculous, Kise thinks as he swiftly averts his gaze back down to the bucket of paint. He gulps, and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear as he stares down at the sampled color dotted on the lid. It's not like he was thinking about Aomine as he was buying paint… or when he's walking home, or putting his groceries away, or lying in bed…
Ah, he supposes the color does match Aomine's hair in a way. "Sorry," Kise mutters in a shaky tone, his mind too jumbled with self-persuasions to consider the fact that Aomine can't hear him. He begins chewing on his bottom lip, feeling guilty for have spoken aloud. It's been like that, ever since he met Aomine. Every time he'd catch himself vocally stating something, he'd feel bad… as though it's his fault that Aomine can't hear him.
"Why are you apologizing, idiot? I was just playing around. I mean, it does match my hair, but it's just paint," Aomine's voice is low and languid, which causes chills to rush down Kise's spine. "You remind me of an old teammate from high school… saying sorry for the stupidest things…" He leans back on the couch again and returns to his prior position; hands behind his head, and his feet propped up on the cushions.
Kise looks up with doe eyes, and forces a smile that doesn't seem too convincing. At first, he begins to wonder how Aomine had known that he apologized, but he figures the two-syllabled word isn't that hard to decipher through lip reading.
Sometimes—well, most of the time—Kise doesn't understand Aomine. He seems to put on this façade… as though he's irritated and disinterested with everything around him… with Kise. Yet, there are times when Kise thinks, perhaps he does care.
It's confusing…
Kise can't help but wonder if Aomine still thinks of him as some oblivious singer that doesn't know when to shut the hell up, or if their friendship is… mutual. Unrequited relationships is something Kise often strays away from; he knows what he's worth, and he doesn't put time or effort into things if he feels as though he isn't being appreciated. But with Aomine, he just doesn't know if he's being appreciated. And the inexplicableness—the unknown—keeps him around.
Just as Kise is about to manage a response, the sound of his door being opened diverts his attention, and his eyes swiftly snap towards the entrance of his apartment.
"Oi, Kise. Didn't I tell you that you needed to start getting into a habit of locking this thing?" Kasamatsu steps through the entrance with his guitar case slung over his shoulder, and an expression that wore disappointment. "I shouldn't have to remind you every damn time I come over. Seriously, it's frustrating."
"Senpai!" Kise beams, disregarding everything Kasamatsu is saying.
"You seemed surprised to see me." Kasamatsu closes the door behind him.
Kise's contented grin falters into a nervous one, and he slowly averts his gaze to the blue-haired male sprawled out on his couch. Aomine quirks a brow and sits up a bit, a curious glint within his navy hues. The truth is… Kise is surprised to see Kasamatsu; despite them always meeting at the same time every day. Practice just sort of… slipped his mind, which is a first for the blond.
"Hah…" An awkward laugh escapes Kise's lips. "Oh! Senpai, have I introduced you to Aomine?"
Aomine seems to finally notice that Kise is talking to someone else in the room, and he sits up entirely. The two other males make eye contact, and for a moment, Kise feels a bit out of place… as though his presence has been forgotten. It's a bit awkward and oddly intense, the way Kasamatsu and Aomine stare at each other, and it's not until Aomine turns his gaze to Kise that the heavy aura surrounding them alleviates.
"Who's he?" Aomine inquires as though Kasamatsu isn't standing right across from him.
Kasamatsu-senpai. He's my guitarist. He usually comes over around this time to practice, but you can stick around if you want, Kise signs.
"Nah," Aomine grimaces, then pushes himself up from the couch. "Don't wanna intrude on anything… I'll just leave." There seems to be hostility behind the tone of his voice, and it causes Kise to furrow his brows and press his lips together.
There it is again, the indifference… the façade he puts on that drives Kise insane.
"Aominecchi," Kise calls after him, though his words are rendered useless with Aomine's back turned to him.
"Nice to meet you, Aomine-san," Kasamatsu says; only to have Aomine brush past him in a rather brusque manner and make his way out the door.
With an offended look, Kasamatsu brings his gaze to Kise, and although he stands there speechless, there's something about the look in his sharp blue eyes that asks 'what was that about'? Kise can't manage an explanation for Aomine's curt behavior, because not even he knows. And for some odd reason, he can't help but feel… bad. It's his fault for not having warned Aomine beforehand that Kasamatsu would be coming over.
Chewing on his bottom lip anxiously, Kise shifts his weight from leg-to-leg as he continues to stare past Kasamatsu and at the door that Aomine had just stormed out of. There's some part of him that wants to chase after Aomine… to tell him he's sorry, and that he'd like to hang out again another day. But he remains still in his spot, as though his feet are rooted to the carpet beneath his feet.
"He's deaf…" Kise says in Aomine's defense in a meek voice, and reaches up to brush his fringe out of his face. "…Let's get started, shall we?"
There's something deep in the pit of Aomine's stomach that twists and turns; something he's never felt before. He walks slowly, his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his pants, and his eyes roaming over the buildings and landscapes of Tokyo. He didn't want to go home. There's something about Kise's place—about Kise—that makes him feel at ease. As though he can completely be himself and not have to worry about anything other than the stupid colors Kise is going to paint the walls of his apartment. But the odd feeling writhing within his gut when he made eye contact with Kise's guitarist drove him away.
He had felt wanted… and realizing that he actually desires such simple-minded things causes him to scoff and shake his head in disappointment. Aomine never knew how much he craved the idea of having another person enjoying or wanting his presence. The way Kise smiles at him, or the way his honey-brown eyes sparkle whenever their talking about the most pointless or silliest things, it made him feel content…
When Kasamatsu arrived, and Kise flashed him that same beaming grin that he flashes Aomine every time they make eye contact, it angered him. Because realizing that he's not the only one that Kise smiles at like that makes him feel…
Ugh.
The unpleasant feeling within his stomach is… jealousy. A stupid emotion, something he rarely feels, and he couldn't help but run from it. Because jealousy meant he was insecure in some way… that he cares about Kise more than he should
Hello, Aomine-kun. How was your day? Kuroko asks as Aomine makes his way into their apartment.
Aomine pauses by the door. It was fine. The scowl on his face contradicts his response.
It was fine… Hell, it was great. It had been a while since he last ventured the city… enjoyed hanging out with someone other than Kuroko and Kagami. He wouldn't mind doing it again, he thinks, though he keeps that much to himself.
I'm tired, though. So I'm going to go lie down, Aomine says.
Kuroko doesn't push the subject any further; instead, he nods his head and averts his icy blue orbs elsewhere as though he is dismissing Aomine. The gesture causes Aomine to scoff, though he's a bit glad that Kuroko doesn't question him any further.
As soon as he makes it to his room, he hurries over to his desk determinedly and sits down. His hands rummage through the papers and art supplies scattered on his desk until he organizes and finds exactly what he wants. For the first time in a while, he feels inspired to draw.
Kise merely watches; his arms crossed and set on the table set in his apartment as he rests his chin atop his intersected wrists. He watches without a word, his lips pressed into a faint straight line, amusement apparent behind the glint within his eyes, as Kasamatsu tunes his guitar. Honey-brown hues study each movement of the other's fingers as he lets them glide over the thin and thick strings of his instrument, his other hand working at adjusting and turning the knobs accordingly. Kise always found such things interesting, the maintenance instruments require. Even something inanimate, such as an instrument, needs to be treated with proper care.
It's funny, Kise thinks. The more he muses, the more he realizes that people are very similar to musical instruments.
Everyone is different; no one's song plays the same. Though, if they all play the right note at the same time, harmonization can be obtained, and music can be made. Music; the equivalent of experience. Those who experience the most will need the most frequent tuning; to have their strings adjusted and keys replaced. Though, not everyone can acquire such maintenance, and eventually their notes will dim entirely, and their song will be lost.
Like Aominecchi...
Kise buries his face deeper into his arms as the thought of the tanned male pops into his mind, and a faint grimace graces his features. The way Kise sees it, Aomine is just out of tune. He needs something… someone to help him play music again; to see that there are people willing to reach out to him… to bring out the best in him.
"Senpai." Kise lifts his head a bit. "If I were an instrument, which one do you think I would be?"
Kasamatsu lifts his gaze from his guitar, seeming a bit confused with the sudden inquiry. "Instrument?" He parrots in question, and then lets a shrug roll off of his shoulders as he processes what exactly is being asked. "Dunno, probably a harmonica."
"A harmonica?" Kise sits up completely, a brow quirked curiously.
"Yeah. Well… when I think of harmonicas, I think of someone that is expressive… can fit in with anyone, anywhere. It's not the classiest instrument, but if played the right way, it works in almost any situation."
The corner of Kise's lips tug upwards into a slight smile. He never thought of a harmonica that way, at least, not until Kasamatsu described it as such. Kasamatsu brings his gaze back down to his guitar, and continues with adjusting the strings. Kise can't help but ponder on what type of instrument Aomine would be, and he finds himself staring intensely at the wall across from him, biting the inside of his cheek. It's hard, trying to think of an instrument that matches the blue-haired male's personality.
"Something on your mind, kid?" Kasamatsu asks after a few minutes of silence.
Kise shakes his head slowly and forces a smile, something he has grown a habit of doing as of late. "No. Are you ready for our performance this weekend?"
From: Kise
Thursday 09:39
Msg: Good morning, Aominecchi! (。)ノ I haven't heard from you in a few days… I was wondering if you were free this weekend?
To: Kise
Thursday 11:03
Msg: idk… why?
From: Kise
Thursday 11:05
Msg: I have a performance on Saturday, and I know you can't hear, but it'd still mean a lot if you could make it!
To: Kise
Thursday 13:03
Msg: nah, i'll be busy.
From: Kise
Thursday 13:04
Msg: Oh… Well, maybe another time! Also, I'm going to start painting my walls. And I was wondering if you could come over. Company will help the time go by faster.
To: Kise
Thursday 13:07
Msg: i suppose… but only if u make me lunch.
It's a twenty minute walk, maybe less, to Kise's place. Not too bad for someone who doesn't have a car, so Aomine didn't mind dragging himself out of the house and down the pavement in the direction of Kise's apartment. He tells himself that he needs the fresh air; he's been pent-up in his room for days, and it will do him some good to get out.
Since when did I care about what will do me good?
Navy orbs shift to the ground moving beneath him, and he watches as the toe of his shoe kicks a few rocks down the sidewalk. He's a bit surprised that Kise would still invite him over after the way he stormed out of his house the last time he had visited.
Staring at his feet seems to pass time, because before he knows it, he's standing outside of the door to Kise's apartment. He knocks, and when Kise doesn't answer as fast as he expects, he grabs the doorknob and pushes the door open himself.
"Kise?" Aomine calls out, and shuts the door behind him before making his way further into the area. Everything seems to be still, as though, if he could hear, the room would be quiet. But if there is one thing he has learned during his time of being deaf, it's that looks can be highly deceiving.
There's newspaper covering the carpet, and Aomine proceeds to take his shoes off before stepping onto the paper. It's not until he rounds the corner that he sees Kise, a paintbrush in his hand, held up to his mouth like a microphone, and he's dancing. It's an odd sight, seeing a person dance without being able to hear the music.
It's not until Kise twirls around that he notices that Aomine is standing behind him, and a bright smile spreads on his lips. He rushes over to the speakers that his phone is connected to, and Aomine assumes that he's turning off whatever music he has playing.
Sorry, Aominecchi. I had my music up a bit too loud. Ah, and thank you for taking off your shoes!Kise explains.
Aomine looks down at his feet, and then brings his gaze to the walls that are still unpainted. Were you planning on using the paint, or dancing in it? He asks with playful intentions.
He can't hear Kise, but he can tell he is laughing, and the realization causes him to smile the slightest bit. Aomine quirks a brow as he watches the other make his way back towards the wall and set his pale hand along the sheetrock. Kise tilts his head as though he's examining the area, and curious as to what he's looking at, Aomine proceeds to tilt his head somewhat as well.
Kise turns around and begins signing. I was thinking, Aominecchi… You like to draw, so maybe you can paint something up here.
You've never seen my drawings, Aomine responds.
So? Kise seems confused with Aomine's response.
So, what if I'm really bad at drawing? Aomine crosses his arms, and narrows his eyes.
Then I'll paint over it. Kise grins teasingly.
Aomine rolls his eyes, and then slowly saunters over to where Kise is standing. Kise seems to be watching him… observing him, but he doesn't mind. He tries to imagine the wall as a canvas, and his mind begins drawing ideas over the area. After a short moments worth of glaring at the blank wall, he brings his gaze over to the blond standing next to him and nods his head. "Okay," he says aloud. "Do you have an extra brush? I'll help you paint."
It's better than sitting around and watching, Aomine thinks. And there's no way Kise will be able to paint everything by himself in just one day, so he can use the help. Kise exits the room, and returns not too long after with another brush in his hand, that same grin plastered on his face. He hands the brush to Aomine with a giddiness that seems to irritate Aomine… How the hell can someone be so happy about something as simple as painting?
Kise squats down and dips his brush into the blue substance provided in the paint tray, and being as oblivious as he is, he doesn't pay much attention as he holds the dipped brush over Aomine's foot and begins dripping paint on his sock. Aomine instantly jerks his foot back with a twisted expression, and then without thinking the idea through, wipes the paint covering the toe of his sock off on Kise's leg. A snicker slips past Aomine's lips as he watches the blond look down at his leg with curiosity, only to see blue smeared on his skin. There's some part of him that's happy that he can't hear Kise, because he can tell by the way his eyebrows pinch together that whatever he's saying is not pleasant.
And as though everything was moving in slow motion, Aomine watches Kise purposely swipe his brush across his tanned legs, leaving a blue streak just under both of his knees. "You asshole," Aomine mutters, and then bends over to dip his brush into the paint. Kise leaps up, his brush extended out as though he's holding a sword, and it looks a bit pathetic.
'Aominecchi. Don't.' Aomine can read the words off of Kise's lips, and it only causes him to grin deviously. The paint soaking the bristles of his brush drip onto the newspaper below his feet as he unhurriedly makes his way over to Kise.
'Aomincecchi… I swear—'
The rest is indecipherable, besides, even if he could hear Kise, there's nothing he could say to change Aomine's mind in the matter.
Before the both of them knew it, they had both lashed their brushes at each other to the best of their abilities. Blue paint is splattered all over their clothes and smeared across their faces. Kise is sprawled out on the ground, his brush resting against his stomach, and a finger pointing up in the air towards the ceiling.
You win, Kise signs. I give up.
Aomine stands next to Kise, and then leans over him with an arrogant smirk. He smears some paint on the tip of his nose before letting the battle come to an end. "We should probably start painting your walls now."
Yeah, that'd be a good idea. Kise scrunches up his nose, and then smiles. Help me up.
It's nerve wrecking, Aomine thinks, because Kise is a male. Yet, he can't help but think of how stunning Kise looks in that moment as he extends a hand out to him, he can't help but think of how soft and well-fitting Kise's fingers are in his own as he takes a hold of his offered hand…
And he can't help but be hesitant of letting Kise's hand go after he stands up.
