Chapter 9

There are many things Aomine hadn't done before meeting Kise.

First, he had never kissed another male. In fact, it was something he had never even thought about doing. If someone were to question Aomine about his sexuality just the day prior, he would have claimed that he's straight without a second thought. He doesn't fantasize about boys, at least, he hadn't. Now, he's not so sure. Because liking Kise means he's gay, right?

Though, he doesn't see it that way. When he looks at Kise, he doesn't see gender, if anything, that's the least of his concerns; he sees someone that piques his interest… captivates him, and makes him happy.

Second, he had never told someone he liked them. He's dated a few people in the past—dull girls with big racks and an okay face—but he's never said anything as remotely sappy as "I like you," before in his life.

So to think that he's sitting here locking lips with some jubilant blond in the dark… it makes his stomach do these unpleasant flips that causes him to swallow hard and wince like someone's jabbing his side with a needle. Kise pulls away, perfect brows knitted and a concerned look spread on his faultless features, as though he knows Aomine's mind is going haywire with different emotions.

Kise's pale hands are still clutching onto his shirt, and this realization pulls a relieved sigh from his lips, because without his hands, he can't talk. So he hopes that they stay like this, expressing emotions through touching lips instead of words. But just as he thinks his hopes are within reliable reach, Kise tightens his grips on his shirt for a short moment, and then lets go; patting the area as though he's trying to smooth out nonexistent wrinkles with a smile.

Something is on your mind, Kise signs.

Yeah, well, fuck. Aomine averts his gaze, and begins holding his breath as he struggles to find the right words to explain himself. How is he supposed to say, "I like you, but this isn't right"? He wants it to be right… it feels right, but the more he muses on it, the more he realizes that the idea of being in a relationship actually scare the shit out of him. And to think that if they were to walk outside right then, holding hands, and publically expressing their affection, they would be shunned and looked down upon.

But he wants this so bad. So fucking bad, it almost pains him to think that he's even contemplating it.

Don't you think that, as a musician, this is sort of a bad idea? Aomine asks, interested.

You mean us both being men? Kise looks somewhat confused.

Yeah, I mean… People are going to judge you for this, you know. Aomine claims.

Although he can't hear, he knows the silence between them is awkward by the way Kise shifts in his spot; his expression displaying what looks to be regret. Aomine wants to reach out, pull the blond back into his embrace, and mutter something along the lines of, "But that doesn't matter to me," but he keeps his hands and thoughts to himself. Because as much as he doesn't want to admit it, it does matter to him.

You should really think about this kind of stuff before you kiss me, Kise signs; his gaze lowered.

The way Aomine's stomach turns makes him feel as though he's going to throw up, and he has to reposition himself so that his posture doesn't reveal his discomfort. He's never felt so… guilty. Knowing that he put that disheartened expression on Kise's face puts him in such an uneasy state, and he hates the fact that he lets the other get to him so effortlessly.

It's not that he doesn't want to be with Kise, because that's exactly what he wants. He's just so confused and unsure of his emotions… and the thought of coming out as gay to his friends and family terrifies him just as much as the relationship itself.

"Doesn't it bother you?" Aomine asks, and he manages to keep his eyes set on the blond.

There's hesitation with the other's answer, but eventually he responds; No. I mean, I'm a bit new to this… but I really like you. And it just… doesn't matter to me, you know? I was unsure about it all up until the point that you kissed me. That's when I knew that all of that other stuff, like our gender, is irrelevant. Because this is what I want. But… if it bothers you, then maybe it isn't what you want.

Aomine holds his breath as he watches Kise's hand gestures; the words rolling off of the tip of his fingertips. The way Kise grimaces with his last sentence, like he's trying to force a smile, but his true emotions remain at bay, causes the corner of Aomine's lips to tug downwards into a frown.

Hearing Kise say what he feels… admitting it so effortlessly makes him feel somewhat jealous. Because it's a quality he wishes he possessed.

So, does it bother you? Kise asks, hands finally dropping in his lap as to mark the end of his speech.

Aomine remains silent and averts his gaze, because he just isn't sure how to respond. If he truly knew how he felt, then he wouldn't have to think about it, right? The incessant silence consumes him at that moment, and he relishes the fact that he can just sit in peace. He doesn't have to worry about sounds distracting him from his train of thought; or Kise speaking up to rush him for an answer.

Does it bother him?

…Well, no. If anything, it was the opposite when his lips were melting into Kise's. And he wouldn't mind experiencing the light headed feeling and sporadic fluttering of his heart again if that meant he was with Kise. He wouldn't mind a lot of things, if it meant it was with Kise. As sappy and completely out of his character as it seems; he's never met a person that made him feel so alive.

It's not until Kise stands that Aomine snaps out of his own little world and lifts his gaze; immediately noticing his disappointed look. Aomine abruptly reaches out and grasps Kise's wrist as though he's nonverbally begging him not to go. Those honey-brown hues that glimmer under the flickering light of the television snap towards the fingers curling around his wrist, and it's obvious that he's confused and maybe a little irritated with Aomine's wavering emotions.

"I wouldn't kiss you for nothing. I obviously feel something," Aomine says, and his grip on Kise's wrist tightens. "Let's just see how this works out. I'm not the best at this… so…" The words he planned to say get lost somewhere in his jumbled mind, and he hates how incapable he is at expressing his thoughts.

Kise leans down and cups Aomine's face with his freehand, and he's speaking. The only word Aomine can manage to decipher is his own name, and he wishes he could hear what it sounds like when it rolls off of the blond's tongue. He can't help but try to imagine the sound of Kise's voice when he talks… when he sings. It's probably a pleasant sound; one that attracts the ears and holds the attentions of strangers.

Half-lidded eyes watch his lips move carefully, hoping to pick up at least one word, but he ultimately fails. There's this slight smile gracing Kise's lips, and Aomine knows that whatever he's saying can only be expressed through verbal words. And even though he can't hear them, it still causes his mind to go blank and his heart to skip a few beats.

This idiot, is he ever going to stop talking? Doesn't seem like it, Aomine thinks, so he closes the distance between them and claims Kise's lips with his own; the first method he could think of to get Kise to shut up. He can feel each goose bump rise to the surface of his skin, and a shiver rushes down his spine and causes him to quiver the slightest bit. It's like he's falling apart, only to have Kise build him back up with just the slightest touch of his lips. He wonders, if this is what kissing is supposed to feel like; if it's supposed to be so addicting and sharp, like an injection of a drug.

Compared to the way Kise's lips move so effortlessly against his own, Aomine knows that his kissing is mediocre. If it were an orchestra concert, he'd be the one playing off beat, struggling to find which note they're on. Kissing wasn't something he did often, in fact, it was rare. But the few times he did, it didn't last very long. Or at least, it was never as passionate and deep.

How long have they been kissing? Aomine doesn't know; doesn't necessarily care, either. Because it feels so right, and Kise tastes so right, it's almost disappointing when he finally pulls away.

"Damn," Aomine breathes, and he's blinking like he can't believe anything is real.

Kise is still close, and Aomine can feel his warm breath brushing against his skin, and it takes all he has not to lean in for another kiss.

Popsicle? Kise asks, and Aomine nods. So the next thing he knows, they're both sitting on the couch with popsicles in hand, Kise's legs thrown over Aomine's lap. The movie playing on the television is disregarded; instead they're more focused on the way their skin contrasts against each other.

There's this look on the blond's face, like he has something on his mind but he refuses to say it, and it irritates Aomine.

"What?" Aomine's tongue is a bit numb from the frozen treat, so the word comes out in a muffled slur that sounds as though his mouth is full of marshmallows. Kise starts laughing, and this causes his brows to furrow in frustration. He can't hear himself, so he's unaware of how ridiculous he sounds in that moment, but that's not what has him so worked up. Each time Kise laughs is like a slap to his face, because he knows he'll never get to hear what it sounds like.

So he presses the flat end of his popsicle to Kise' cheek; hoping that the abrupt, sticky chill of the frozen treat will divert his laughter.

The perfectly shaped brows of Kise pinch together, and his mouth opens wide and forms an 'O' as though he's letting out a soundless whine. Out of reflex, Kise reaches up to smack the popsicle out of Aomine's hand, and it lands between them on the couch, the blue syrup instantly seeping into the cushion and marking its stain. Aomine can't help but laugh, even though he's totally in the wrong.

Aomine spends the next fifteen minutes attempting to scrub the stain out of the cushion, and Kise sits on the arm of the couch with his arms folded over his chest and an oddly attractive expression that's supposed to display anger. After what seems like endless scrubbing, the stain turns to a light blue that's only visible if you squint and maybe stare hard enough.

"That's the best it's gonna get," Aomine admits, yawning. He lies out on the ground, and places the rag he used to scrub the cushion over his face so that he's accompanied by nothing other than darkness and silence. That doesn't last long, though. Kise's pulling the rag away from his face just a few seconds later, and he's hovering over him with that same angered expression that amuses Aomine in all the ways that it shouldn't.

It's getting late, Kise says like it isn't the most obvious thing in the world.

Kicking me out already? Aomine teases.

The scowl set on Kise's features softens, and the corners of his lips tug downwards into a frown. I didn't mean it like that. It's just that you have to walk home…

I'm just kidding, I know. Aomine sits back up, only to nearly collapse back onto the ground when he realizes just how close his face is to Kise's.

You know, Kise remains still in his position, seeming to pay no mind to their intermingling breaths. I wouldn't mind if you stayed the night. If you'd rather sleep on my couch than walk home in the dark.

The couch… Aomine parrots, and narrows his eyes challengingly.

He can tell that Kise is chuckling by the slight quiver of his shoulders, and the way his frown slowly transitions to a soft smile. You look disappointed.

No… I mean, if you're cool with that? I'll leave first thing in the morning. Aomine leans back slightly as to create some distance between them. His mind is going haywire, and by that point, he's not even sure what he's saying. The only thing he's focused on is those rosy lips he craves to claim again.

Kise gives a half nod as he straightens his posture, his grin faltering. And Aomine starts to think that maybe he wanted to hear a different answer. Maybe they both want the same thing, but they're too stubborn to just go with what their hearts are telling them.

I'll go get you some blankets

And before Kise can finish his sentence, Aomine is grasping his wrist for the second time that day, and pulling him down onto the ground. The force of the pull sends Aomine back onto the ground, and Kise ends up hovering over him with wide eyes that look more pleased than surprised. Kise leans down and begins kissing him slowly, and Aomine can feel the spark of their lips touching reaching the tip of his toes and causing them to curl in satisfaction.


The sun is nearly blinding, even through closed eyelids, as it beams through the open window of the room. Aomine's eyes slowly flutter open to the bright light, and a soft grunt pulls itself from his lips. He tries to sit up, only to realize that there's weight pressing down on his body and keeping his back pinned to the carpeted ground. It takes him a few moments to realize that the weight is just Kise; curling into his side like a puppy.

Kise's mouth is slightly parted and his disheveled hair sticks up in random directions, and Aomine finds himself staring longer than intended. He looks so at peace, as though he had been sleeping on a cloud and not the floor. Aomine shifts just the slightest bit so that he can get a better view of Kise's expression, and this causes the other to stir in his sleep. His appealing lips pucker slightly and his cheeks flush before his lids flutter open to expose the honey-brown orbs resting beneath them.

"Morning," Aomine says; voice gruff from having just woken up.

Kise's smile is brighter than the sun, but a lot easier on the eyes. He lifts his hand, and lazily signs against Aomine's lips, Morning. Not that Aomine can tell that's what he's really saying by the way his fingers move in a languid daze, but it's assumed.

A part of him wants to remain on the ground with Kise in his arms, and the warmth of the sun hitting the exposed areas of his skin. It's refreshing, like just getting out of the shower and jumping into a bed with newly cleaned sheets.

"I should probably get going," Aomine says, because he knows Kise probably has a busy day of band practice and other shit that has to do with his music career. He can feel the sigh that escapes Kise's lips, and it's almost disheartening to know that they can't stay like this forever.

After a few more minutes of relishing in the moment, Kise finally pushes himself away from Aomine and sits up. He runs his slender fingers through the wild strands of his hair in attempt to put them in place, though it ultimately does him no justice. Aomine remains on the ground and watches as the blond attempts to bring himself to reality by stretching his limbs and rubbing his eyes.

So, what does this make us? Kise turns and asks, and the inquiry nearly catches Aomine off guard.

Not wanting to discuss such a matter at an unequal level, Aomine sits up, and he can feel an ache from having laid on the ground all night beginning to throb along his spine. If anything, he'd expect Kise to have an answer, because he's completely lost when it comes to initiating and labeling relationships.

This makes them boyfriends, right? Or something like that.

Let's go out on a date first, Aomine says, and it's the one thing he'd least expect to ever come out of his mouth. It's just, it seems like they're just jumping into it, and Aomine doesn't see a point in rushing. Like a real date. And then we can go from there.

A date? Kise asks, and for once, Aomine can't read the expression on his face.

Yes. We can go to a concert or something. I don't know. I'll take you out. Aomine says, anxious. He runs his hand through his hair and lets out a deep breath in attempt to calm his nerves. He hates this feeling so damn much; the feeling of putting himself on the spot, but he's willing to put up with it for Kise.

There's a short pause in their conversation as Kise seems to muse on the offer, and Aomine is sure he's doing it on purpose to mess with his nerves. I'd love to go on a date with you, he says, and the widest grin spreads on his lips. So, then we'll decide what this is after our first date?

Aomine sighs in relief and nods. He's not sure what had him so anxious, but hearing Kise agree to go on a date with him puts him at ease.

And the way Kise leans forward to press a soft peck to his lips puts him at an even further ease.