i have no excuses but i had a vet internship and also
YURI ON ICE

enjoy

Sometimes Kagami loves his job, sometimes he hates it. Today is, unfortunately, one of those days.

After he'd busted his knee playing basketball in university, there hadn't been many paths open to him. He remembers that time with no fondness at all - he'd gone through some pretty rough days then, what with the perpetual ache in his knee and the ever-present twinge in his chest whenever he picked up a basketball. He'd even locked himself into his room and stopped eating for a couple of days, until Kuroko had taken an axe and threatened to cave his door in.

So, yeah, he'd been in some pretty dark places back then, but with the help of Kuroko, Kise, and surprisingly, Midorima, he'd managed to pull through somehow. After that, he'd taken a serious look at his future without basketball, and realised that there had been few options available to him. Although he was taking a Food Science degree, he really was in it just for the food, not for any potential career, and it had struck him that, well, he hadn't really thought out his future beyond basketball. So in the end Kuroko dragged him to the nearby fire station, signed him up for a course, and told him that was that. He'll always be grateful to Kuroko for all he's done, really, because without him, Kagami would be nothing.

But back to the subject at hand. Firefighting is a good, if exhausting and exasperating and utterly agonising job; it pays the bills, at least, and keeps his bottomless pit of a stomach full, so he can't complain. Besides, the smile on the little girl's face last week when he'd rescued her cat from the tree - for the five-hundredth time already, he's sure - had been enough to erase the ache in his bones.

Yeah, he likes his job, which is more than what most people can say, but it does have its trials sometimes. Kagami can't count on one hand - hell, even two hands - the number of arsonists he's had a part in arresting in Tokyo already. Crazy pyromaniacs, setting fire to abandoned houses just for the hell of it, pouring gasoline on a school shed just for kicks, and the whole thing makes Kagami sick to the core. These are seriously fucked-up people, he thinks, and he can only count his lucky stars that he hasn't had to clean up corpses from a building after the fire's been put out. Not yet, at least; thankfully, all the arson cases he's been involved in recently have been in abandoned areas and condemned buildings no one would ever frequent.

Kagami doesn't think anything will be different this time around, as he buckles up and slides down the fire pole, the intrusive sound of the blaring alarm already a phenomenon he's gotten used to. Either someone's kitchen was set on fire, or some idiot with a cigarette, or even another misguided soul, putting kerosene and lighter together on a worthless pile of bricks and thinking the whole thing will make a fucking fantastic firework show.

How wrong he is.

First things first, there's little chance of it being an accident; that much is confirmed when he buckles up into his seat and feels his radio vibrate. Secondly, it's no abandoned building earmarked by the town council for demolition, it's a fucking preschool. The kids have already been evacuated out, standing or sitting in rows by their teachers and trying not to cry (or whoop in joy as they watch the instrument of their torture burn to the ground. Kagami knows he definitely would, in their place). The firemen who arrived before Kagami have already set up their hoses and fire shields, and he joins in quickly, his hands automatically going through the motions without conscious thought.

"Has everyone been evacuated?" he yells at the shaggy-haired firefighter standing beside him. The other nods his head. "The teachers took a head-count," he calls back. "Everyone's here." Kagami nods his head, satisfied that nothing's amiss, and pulls his cap lower down over his head. A loud shout to his right alerts him to the fact that another fire has blown up behind one of the windows in the room, and he seizes the hose.

"Get some water over here!" he yells, and tugs at the hose. But it's all tangled up, and he wastes a precious few moments untangling it before a gush of water sprays out of its tip. He's directing it at the source of the new fire and wiping his brow when the scream rings out.

There's silence for a few seconds, a bare few moments in which Kagami holds his breath and doesn't dare to move a muscle, then all heads turn to the burning building. The scream had come from there, yes it had, and it had been the scream of a little boy. Kagami realises that he's the one closest to the part of the building from which the scream had come, and so without a second thought, he pulls out his radio and surges forward.

"Engine three," he works to keep his voice even, "there's a kid inside the block, I'm going in for the rescue."

Behind him, he's vaguely aware of the terrified, shaky voices of the teachers doing a recount, the increasingly-loud orders barked at them by the surrounding firefighters, the roar of the fire engines. Kagami only spares a glance for his captain, a sparse, wiry old man with strength in his bones and fire in his blood, who is barking orders into the radio in his hand. He looks flustered, underneath all the fire gear, but still he looks up and catches Kagami's eye as he passes. Kagami repeats the words, and gestures repeatedly towards the building.

"Copy that," his captain says, and Kagami is thankful that he's still calm, because it makes him stop and take a breath.

"Don't be a hero, Kagami," his captain says gruffly, and Kagami nods. He clasps the gas mask to his face, tying the straps together with practised movements, and pushes through the doorway. Another firefighter's behind him, holding the hose and aiming it at the sparks flying around them, the bristling flames engulfing the walls and the ground, but Kagami doesn't pay attention to him, and with a loud crash, he smashes through what's remaining of the door with his axe. A whoosh of hot air greets him, almost blowing the helmet off his head, and he feels his eyebrows start to burn, but he blinks through the smoke and crouches lower.

The scream had come from above, perhaps the second floor, so he hurries to the staircase. A blast of water from the hose extinguishes the flames creeping up onto the rails of the stairs, and he spares a moment to call out a quick thank you to the firefighter behind them. Quickly, although the boards are creaking and the air is stifling, he ascends, feeling his way through the dense clouds of smoke.

When he reaches the top of the stairs, there's a loud crash, and another terrified, shrill scream. Kagami curses and runs toward the source of the sound. He's definite, now; the sound had come from the second floor, a room just at the end of the hallway, and he can see tall, angry flames licking at the doorknob, dancing around the edge of the door, which is starting to fall to the ground. He utters another foul word and smashes through a nearby window to let the smoke escape.

The door finally falls with a heavy bang, and Kagami finally has a clear view of what's going on inside the room; one of the beams of the wooden ceiling has fallen to the ground – it must have been what had caused that thunderous crash – and it's burning like nobody's business, lighting up the floor and giving a ghastly glow to the rest of the room.

Then Kagami sees him. A tiny figure, curled up in the corner of the room, arms held tight around his legs, head buried in his arms. At the sound of the door falling, the boy lets out another terrified squeal, although this time the sound has a plaintive, hopeless edge to it that sends an angry thrill down Kagami's spine. Kagami crouches lower and grabs his extra oxygen mask.

He lurches forward, and although he's already moving as fast as possible, it feels like time has slowed to a crawl. All he can see is that pathetic, tiny body curled up limply in the corner, hopeless and ready for death, and immediately fire rushes through his blood and sparks down his spine. When he finally reaches the boy, after what seems like several centuries later, he clasps the boy close to him and presses the oxygen mask onto his face. A rush of relief goes through him as he feels the child shudder and let out a broken, gasping breath, and his chest starts to heave.

Immediately he heads for the door, holding the boy tightly to him. Another firefighter on the floor above sees him through the hole in the ceiling and communicates the news through his radio, but Kagami blocks out all unnecessary sound and stumbles through the smoky hallway. There's another loud thud as another broken beam falls to the ground, and suddenly the entire floor of the room gives way. Kagami thanks his lucky stars that they'd made it through without much harm, and without plummeting to the ground with the rest of the floorboards.

The rest of the way out goes without incidence, except when he'd had to circumnavigate a burning bookcase which had fallen down and was blocking the way. Thankfully, another firefighter had come through then, wielding the hose and extinguishing any blazes along the way, and he'd quickly made short work of the flaming bookcase. With the help of another firefighter, the three of them had managed to heave the bookcase aside and carry the little boy out.

Kagami stumbles out through the doorway and finally straightens up, his back hurting like a bitch and his chest heaving. He coughs to push the smoke out of his mouth, the fresh air flooding his lungs all of a sudden. With slow movements, he heaves the boy down from his shoulder and sets him gently down on the ground, looking searchingly over her face for any signs of shock. His pupils are heavily-dilated, his mouth pursed into a frantic little knot behind the glass of the gas mask, but other than that he seems perfectly fine.

There aren't any injuries on his body, at least, and for that Kagami's thankful. With a tired sigh, he squats down slowly and looks the boy straight in the eye. He takes the mask off, his fingers gentle and calm, and smiles a soft smile.

"You okay there, champ?" he says quietly. The boy blinks several times, his eyes large and round, and Kagami thinks, maybe, just maybe, he's going to be perfectly alright, that maybe, just maybe, he's actually managed to emerge unscathed from the experience - then he dips his head and starts to shake. Kagami can see the tears beading at the corners of his eyes, can see the way he's biting his lips so ferociously that it's drawn blood, can see the way his hands are clutching tightly into the worn fabric of his pants, and honestly, it makes Kagami's heart break.

"Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay," he says, his voice as soft and soothing as possible. He cautiously places his large hands over the boy's shoulders, feeling the seething warmth from his shirt, remnants of their brush with death. Kagami holds on firm and doesn't let go, holding on to him until the tremors stop wracking the tiny, terrified body.

"It's okay," he repeats, the words flowing soothingly from his lips. "It's okay to cry. All boys cry." It's then that the tears leak out of the corners of the little boy's eyes, and he throws himself wholeheartedly into Kagami's arms. Kagami feels the wetness against his neck, feels the way the boy curls into him in a futile attempt to hide the moment of weakness from his classmates, and he does nothing but grip the boy closer to him.

Slowly, the sobs taper off into little, uncontrollable whimpers, and then into erratic hiccups that jolt the tiny ragdoll body. Kagami rubs his large hands calmly against his back, rubbing in small concentric circles, as the boy rubs at his eyes and slowly returns to himself. It takes a full five more minutes before the boy deems all his tears cried, and pries himself slowly off Kagami.

There are still red circles around his eyes, but Kagami ignores them nonetheless, and praises him for being a such a brave, brave boy. He's picked up by the approaching teacher then, carried in the nervous, crying woman's arms. She bubbles out a few apologies, something about how she'd missed little Kei running off to fetch his backpack in the confusion and it was all her fault, she should have been more careful, she was so, so sorry for the trouble she'd caused, but Kagami waves away her apologies. He knows it's not her fault, that things like these often happen in the midst of the confusion, and no one could possibly blame her.

She bows a couple of times to him, tears still streaming from her eyes, and then hobbles off back to her class. Kagami then realises how itchy his eyes have gotten from the smoke, but he resists the urge to rub at them. He knows it'll only make the itch worse.

The other shaggy-haired firefighter claps him on the back and congratulates him for a job well done. "Good job," he says simply, but the way his green eyes crinkle up into a sleepy, adorable smile says everything. It's then that Kagami realises that the fire's finally been put out, the long towering flames already long extinguished, the black burnished wreckage of the preschool smoking.

It's then that the familiar righteous burn of anger starts to crawl over his skin and work its way through his adrenaline-flooded system, sending his every nerve firing and every hair on his body standing on end. He clenches his fist, remembering the words which had come over his radio when he had first gotten into the engine and felt the device vibrate –

"Code red, this is engine one reporting from the scene. We've got a structure fire at Bright Hearts Preschool, Jiyugaoka, on fire from the first level to the third, uh, hold on... Fuck, it's a possible arson; the fucker left his gasoline cans lying around the scene. The captain's calling the department, they'll be sending the standard people down. Shit, this is fucked up, it's a fucking preschool - "

Normally, Kagami knows, it would be difficult to detect if a case were arson without the arson investigator from the police around, but in this case it's pretty obvious. And he had seen the gasoline trails on the floor where the fire hadn't yet touched the wood; this guy hadn't been subtle about his intentions.

He remembers the frightened eyes of the little boy, who couldn't have been more than five – remembers his shaking hands, the large tears gushing uncontrollably down his cheeks, his tiny feet peeking out from under the lining of his coat, and suddenly, he has to know. He has to know what the department's doing about it, if they have any clues, if the detective in charge of the case has anything yet, if he can possibly go to the boy and say with a straight face that everything's alright. Because it's not like that yet, and Kagami knows he'd never be able to face the boy if he didn't know who the fuck had done such a cruel, malicious thing.

Kagami looks around; the other firefighters are busy cleaning up, inspecting the rubble, and it looks like he has a few minutes to spare, so he stalks towards the squad car parked just beside them on the road, the man standing beside it distinguishable from all the other beat cops by the large shiny red badge on his chest. He's placing samples from the crime scene into unlined metal cans, standard procedure, sealing and labelling them and placing them in large plastic bags to be taken back for analysis. Kagami walks over to him, and starts when he recognises a familiar face.

"It's a clear case of arson, then?" he asks, abruptly, and the other man looks up at him in surprise. Then his brow clears, and he nods. He brushes back the short cropped blonde hair from his brow, and clears his throat.

"Yeah, looks like it," he murmurs, a small smile cutting across his face. "Agent Wakamatsu – but you already know my name, don't you, Kagami? You're that guy who pulled the boy out of the fire, aren't you? Good job on that."

"Thanks," Kagami says; the sight of the former Touou player is not an unwelcome surprise. He shakes his hand with a rough grip, and looks over at the samples. "You think you're gonna find any accelerant on that?"

Wakamatsu waves a hand dismissively. "These are just procedural. I mean, the guy left the gasoline cans at the scene; I don't think there's much doubt in anybody's mind that this was a clear case of arson."

Kagami looks around curiously, suddenly remembering that there's supposed to be a detective partnering with the arson investigator on this. He wrinkles his nose, seeing no man in plainclothes, just some beat cops directing traffic and helping out the firefighters with the cleaning up. Brushing the dust off his hair, he turns back to Wakamatsu.

"Where's the detective? Not here yet?" he asks, and Wakamatsu releases an explosive sigh. His already-frowning brows darken even further into an ominous scowl.

"It's that asshole, he's now some bigshot detective just transferred over from Kyoto. Technically, he doesn't even need to do these kinds of cases, but he was on the way back from some bloody award ceremony, said he'd drop by and 'see how the rookies were doing'." Wakamatsu's face twitches, and it's clear that he's trying to keep his cool, despite very obviously detesting the guy. Kagami laughs in sympathy; he knows what it's like to have arrogant, know-it-all superiors who act like they're all-important.

"He's a jerk, huh?" he says, a half-smile on his lips, although he's a little bit puzzled at the mention of 'that asshole'. He dismisses it as a slip of the tongue, however, quickly looking back and making sure that he's still got some time to spare, before returning to the conversation "Let's not talk about him. Let's talk about the case instead, and what you've found - "

"Yeah, let's not waste more time talking about me, get on with it, Wakamatsu, you know the drill."

They hear the voice the exact moment Kagami feels an unpleasantly-familiar weight on his shoulder. Low, gravelly, impossibly-deep, and Kagami feels the whoosh of hot air past his ear. Instinctively, he shoves the man behind him off his shoulder and turns around, aiming a punch at his face, but Aomine ducks easily with a languid grace that never fails to piss him off.

"What're you doing here?" Kagami snarls, and it's then that he realises that he never took his helmet off, because it clangs onto the floor with a loud crash, the straps snipping at his heels and clacking against the tarmac. Wakamatsu starts to speak, his words angry and vociferous, and interspersed with a multitude of gestures, but Aomine ignores him, and bends to pick up the helmet. Kagami reaches down quickly and snatches it away.

It's a spiteful action, he's perfectly aware of that, but he just can't stand the thought of Aomine helping him with anything, can't stand the thought of Aomine touching any of his things, and also, he's trying to avoid checking out Aomine's perfect ass. He hates himself for being a man and doing the things men do, because somehow, although his mind detests the very sight of Aomine, his body can't help instinctively reacting to the things that, well, a man would react to. Namely, a very shapely, well-formed ass.

Aomine straightens slowly, every movement of his deliberate and calculated, as he tips his head up and his eyes meet Kagami's. There's wicked laughter in his eyes, a snide humour, as if he knows exactly what's running through Kagami's mind, and he finds it absolutely hilarious. He shoves one hand in his pocket and leans back, and it's only then that Kagami realises that he's leaning against one of the flashiest – scratch that, the flashiest – motorcycle he's ever seen. It's sleek and slim, the black paint without a scratch, the frame bright silver and well-polished. There aren't any stickers or décor on it, and Kagami feels the urge to just reach forward and touch his fingers to the smooth surface of the motorcycle.

"I'm the detective in charge of this case," Aomine says, smug satisfaction in every line of his body.

"Fuck no," is Kagami's immediate reaction, and he turns back towards Wakamatsu, but the look of aggrieved resentment on the latter's face confirms his worst fears. He looks at Aomine, then back at Wakamatsu, and then decides to completely ignore the detective. Wiping away the sweat beading on his forehead, he leans on the squad car and looks at the samples laid out on its hood, trying desperately to ignore the heat of Aomine's gaze behind him.

"Seriously?" he hisses at Wakamatsu. "How'd this guy ever become a detective? And what the fuck's up with his motorcycle?"

Wakamatsu's fingers are clenched so hard Kagami can see his knuckles turn white. There's a vein throbbing in his temple, and his mouth is compressed into a tight line, but surprisingly, his voice is steady when he replies.

"Solved some big cases back in Kyoto, got promoted, then demoted for insubordination, ended up here as a detective," Wakamatsu says, his voice grudging as he outlines Aomine's past. He lowers his voice confidentially, with a spiteful glance over Kagami's shoulder where Aomine is still standing. "Wouldn't be surprised if he got demoted back to beat cop for that bloody motorcycle, but he absolutely refuses to use a department car. Thank God I don't have to work with him on a daily basis."

"Hey, Wakamatsu, I heard that," Aomine growls, and Kagami grits his teeth as he feels Aomine's arm sling over his shoulders, again. "Just shut up and give me the brief, won't you."

He's obviously used to giving orders and having them obeyed, and by the way Wakamatsu reluctantly blurts out everything he's found so far, he's probably pretty high up in the police force. Kagami, however, has no qualms about defying authority, and so he calmly extricates Aomine's arm and shuffles away from his side, continuing to listen to Wakamatsu's words without paying the detective any heed.

Halfway through Wakamatsu's speech, Aomine cuts him off with an airy, "Got it, that's enough," and pulls out a cigarette from his pocket. The arson investigator starts spluttering, his face turning red, and Kagami starts wondering if he should get the fire hose, because seriously, both of them need to be hosed down.

"Aren't you going to listen to the rest of it?!" Wakamatsu exclaims angrily, looking extremely close to exploding, and one of the empty metal tins clatters to the floor as he accidentally swipes it off the hood. None of them pay it any heed.

Aomine just shrugs, the arrogant tilt of his shoulders lazy - Kagami can just feel the smugness radiating off him, and it absolutely infuriates him as always - and leans back against the motorcycle. He crosses his arms across his chest, and Kagami tries to look away from the way his biceps bulge and swell against the dark cloth of his uniform. Again, it drives him absolutely nuts, the way Aomine can look so good all the time.

God is never fair, he thinks angrily, because really, Aomine doesn't deserve the body he has, doesn't deserve to look the way he does, all while being a world-class asshole. It really isn't fair. Besides, the way the formal uniform clings to his broad shoulders and accentuates the slimness of his hips isn't doing much to calm down Kagami's traitorous libido.

Men in uniform have always been his kink, but Aomine is definitely not someone he wants in his life, so he tries to blank out Aomine's scent from his senses, drive out the thoughts running through his mind, of Aomine pressing him against the slick, cold metal of the motorcycle, driving those slim hips against his ass, whispering dark, wicked promises into his ears with that rough, beautiful, sinful voice –

Here he snaps himself out of his reverie, realising that - of all things! - he'd just been getting hard. Because of Aomine. And while he doesn't deny that there is a tangible attraction between them, a basic connection that draws them to each other, he's already long realised that Aomine's far too emotionally-constipated to make up a satisfying relationship with him. Kagami admits, all too freely, that his body wouldn't mind fucking Aomine again - just that he's not willing to dive into the mindfuck that is his and Aomine's relationship.

So he leans forward and plucks the cigarette out of Aomine's hand.

"Don't smoke on the job," he grinds out, glaring at Aomine and hoping he gets the message. Aomine just shrugs again, a sardonic smile slicing across his face, and leans back onto the motorcycle again. Honestly, the way he's acting so relaxed is really starting to piss Kagami off even more. Can't he take his job seriously just for one second?

He waves at Wakamatsu, urging him to continue. The arson investigator purses his lips, but continues on with the report, detailing how the fire had had multiple points of origin, starting from both the garden, the main block and the back kitchen. The firefighters had noted the thick black smoke coming from the fire, an unusual sight that usually indicated an accelerant was involved. The occasional explosions that had broken out over the course of the fire had been highly suspicious, as Kagami himself knows; he had been involved in fighting one of the initial outbursts.

Meanwhile, Aomine has been completely ignoring both of them, and has already wandered off to inspect the scene. Kagami watches him angrily, and wonders just how the hell he managed to get promoted, because it's obvious that he doesn't give a damn about listening to his subordinates, or getting the low-down on the case – it seems like he doesn't give a damn about anything at all, in fact.

"How do you put up with him?" he mutters in frustration to Wakamatsu, whose brows are snapped thunderously over his slitted eyes. But the arson investigator is, obviously, already used to the way Aomine works, because he doesn't protest, and just sighs angrily.

"He does his job well," he admits, although he sounds as if he'd rather have his teeth pulled out than say such words again.

"And so the higher-ups let him get away with everything?" Kagami asks, incredulous. Wakamatsu doesn't say anything, but the tight-lipped nod he gives says it all. Kagami grits his teeth again. God, Aomine makes him so angry, but all the same, watching his familiar figure prowl languidly around the crime scene awakens a whole slew of emotions he's utterly unprepared to deal with at the moment. He turns his attention back to Wakamatsu.

"If you find out who the bastard who set this fire is," he murmurs quietly, "contact me at the station." When he sees the other's raised eyebrow, he shrugs, feeling a little self-conscious.

"I just want to know," he says, hoping that's self-explanatory, and Wakamatsu nods understandingly. He shuffles all the samples back into one large bag and tucks it into the back seat of the squad car.

But Kagami should have known that Aomine wouldn't give up so easily. He realises this when he feels the warm weight of a body press against his back, flush against his entire body. God knows Aomine does it on purpose, but Kagami can't kick up a fuss without being a drama queen. And he is, most definitely, nothing like Kise.

"Get off me, you bastard," is all he hisses under his breath as he tries to regain his balance. Goddamnit, was Aomine always this fucking heavy? Kagami hopes the added weight isn't added muscles, but fats. Let him lose that perfect body shape for once.

And now he's being spiteful again. Really, what is it about Aomine that makes him so… so... salty?

"You smell good," Aomine says in return, and promptly proceeds to bury his face in Kagami's neck. Kagami hisses angrily and shakes him off, ignoring the scandalised stare that Wakamatsu directs at him. He should be used to it by now, shouldn't he; after all, Aomine scandalises everyone around him, it's practically the way he rolls. But then Aomine starts dotting tiny, biting kisses down his neck, and Kagami has to stifle a moan - or it might have been a foul curse, he doesn't know.

The thing is, Aomine's mouth on his skin is sending shivers down his spine and tingles across his skin, and he doesn't know what to feel. For one thing, the touches are gentle and distinctly un-Aomine, and Kagami doesn't know if he should enjoy it as best he can, while he can, but then again he doesn't think it's a good thing to encourage Aomine's boldness in any way whatsoever. So he slaps his hand over his shoulder and, thankfully, manages to catch Aomine's nose, sending the other man spluttering backwards in indignation.

Kagami gives him a superb look of self-righteousness and smugness - really, it's a damn masterpiece, it is , and Aomine should be proud, because it's from him that Kagami learned how to perfect that look - and turns back to Wakamatsu, who is watching the entire spectacle with wide eyes.

"So where were we?" Kagami asks, not entirely able to keep the self-satisfaction out of his voice, as he leans back onto the car hood and prepares to put his helmet back on.

"You two look like a married couple," Wakamatsu says, and Kagami chokes a little. He vaguely hears Aomine's sardonic, highly-amused laughter behind him, and dimly alarm bells ring in his head: Oh, how I detest him.

i did a little bit of research for this (and by that I mean binge-watching fireman rescue videos) so i would absolutely welcome feedback from anyone who has experience working with fires? i mean, i know nothing so
on hindsight Aomine seems really rapey and gross but oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ we'll get to find out a little more about him in the next chapter, and i'd really welcome feedback bc it's getting a little harder for me to keep them in character. leave a review if you can! find me on tumblr at kitcatkandy