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Sakurai gasps, his long eyelashes fluttering as his head lolls on the side, half-lidded eyes drilling holes in Daiki. He gulps, and grips Ryou’s hips harder, as if to ground himself, and to stop himself from floating away, but it’s really hard with Ryou staring at him with these horrible, big eyes of his.
Aomine is not a patient person, but sometimes, even though he would never admit it out loud, he even tries. In his own way. To be more patient. Especially when it comes to sex – it’s not as much of I want to make him feel better but more of a If I wait long enough we can get more than 5 seconds of sex kind of thing. It still does count as trying to be patient, so.
But there’s only so much a person can do, and Aomine’s resolve snaps when Ryou mutters something quiet and vulnerable-sounding – which is a great contrast compared to how he arches his back a bit, grips harder, with fingers pressing into the hard surface of a kitchen table, giving Aomine one more look over his shoulder.
Aomine doesn’t think twice before he groans and withdraws from inside Ryou – he’s been patient, hasn’t he? Letting Ryou to adjust to Aomine’s length in him, and composing his own, messy waves of arousal and emotion. God, he needs to fuck him. He wants to fuck, to just do anything.
Throwing any thought processes away, he sinks in Ryou’s body again, first thrusts being just hard snaps of his hips, and then Ryou is gasping his name, louder and louder, until it becomes “Mr. Aomine-san, sir,” and this is a bit weird, because sure Ryou is always polite, but adding sir to it is a bit weird, isn’t it? “Mr. Aomine-san, sir!” Ryou repeats, but it’s less breathless than it was moments ago, and now it’s a bit inquiring, and sort of scared.
And then, Ryou’s face fades away, and suddenly Aomine is holding and pounding into Ryou’s body, but his face is now all wrinkled and saggy, and the only thing that remains is Ryou’s huge eyes. But there are no eyelashes, just fucking ugly fish-like brown eyes, staring at him intensely.
“Mr. Aomine-san, sir. Mr. Aomine-san sir, sir is sleep in the kitchens again. Sir is miss the breakfast if sir don’t wake up now.”
The annoying voice keeps on talking, and Aomine groans as he opens his eyes and realizes he probably dropped on the kitchen floors again during his kitchen walk/midnight snack adventure. Which means he slept on the floor for a few hours, which would explain why he’s feeling so cold – fucking house elves, probably didn’t want to work the fireplace for him, so now his whole body is freezing.
It’s too horrible – his bones feel rusty, and like they don’t belong to him anymore, kitchen floors are way more uncomfortable than Astronomy Tower, he’s late for breakfast, he had another of these freaking annoying sex dreams about Ryou, of all people, and now he’s standing up, and he’s rock hard, even though last bit of the dream was him fucking something with a face of a house elf on it, and one of said house elves is trying not to look at the famous Aomine Daiki-san, sir, but failing miserably and just staring at him, and everything sucks.
Aomine just walks out of the kitchen without sparing the house elf a second glance. Besides, he’s sure the elf didn’t wake him up out of his kindness, or his concern for Mr. Aomine-san, sir going to miss his daily nutrition dose. Probably the other house elves were too scared to start working so the bravest one had to get rid of Daiki. Whatever.
He doesn’t care, alright, he will just go to the Great Hall and scare some first year Hufflepuff (or anyone who will be intimidated by him) off their portion of food, and everything will be grand. He casts a half-assed Tempus, and stares at it for few seconds too long. He hates how he has to actually focus to read the time. Why can’t it just show numbers instead of the whole clock face? Useless magic.
It’s probably because of this delay that he ends up being stuck between the open kitchen doors and the wall, and when he hears a stream of breathless I’m sorry’s, he can’t find any other way of escape than to just cling to the cold stone wall in the uncomfortable, small space. His lips curve into an unintended smile. He’s pretty sure that gasping Ryou is steadily making his way across the corridor, and probably heading to the kitchens.
Aomine risks a glance from behind the door – he’s right. Breathless Ryou, with his cheeks slightly flushed, is carefully, but definitely successfully fighting his way through the small crowd of second- and third-year students, who are anything but casting him amused or worried looks. This always baffles Aomine – how, even though Ryou is a ball of nervousness and fidgety politeness, one way or another, he can always achieve whatever he set his mind onto in the end. Even if his throat goes dry because of how often he has to repeat his apologies.
Aomine holds in a breath and tries to flatten himself even more against the wall, but even that doesn’t help when Ryou almost jumps inside the kitchens and hits his elbow on the doors, which causes them to swing and painfully dig into Aomine’s stomach.
All of this hurried hiding almost makes Aomine forget about his new sex dream involving Ryou. Almost. It’s slowly becoming his routine, waking up every other day hard and aching for this weird, spooked-out Hufflepuff. Out of all people in the castle, did he honestly had to be a Hufflepuff? His parents are going to be furious. Only, not really – his mom sends him letters every day now, confirming that she will be fine with whoever is able to stand him, which is idiotic, and what does she even mean? He’s a fucking delight, and girls are probably jelly-fighting over him all the time, he’s just not bothered enough to notice. All his girl classmates are fucking flat, so what’s the point.
Stupitsuki often tells him that this is a very fragile time for a sixth-year students, since all the puberty, or some other crap is happening, and that it often involves weird sex dream things. The knowledge of what is happening isn’t helping all that much when it comes to dealing with the problem, though.
He refocuses his attention on the squeaky noises coming from the kitchen – house elves are still welcoming Mr. Sakurai-san, sir, asking him all about how he liked the breakfast.
“Zirky prepared the stew with Mr. Sakurai-san instructions,” one of the house elves is screeching, while others run around frantically, and deducing from the clatter of plates, probably showing Ryou their dishes.
“Ah, I’m sorry, yes, I noticed! The previous ones were really good too, but now there is something else to it, too, isn’t it?” Ryou is saying with, Aomine imagines, that shy smile on his face.
Aomine looks through the small glass window in the doors, and snorts. Zirky is jumping up energetically, when other elves form a small queue in front of Ryou, and present him some plates. One of the smallest house elves that Aomine didn’t see before – not that he pays them that much attention – is clinging to Ryou’s robe’s sleeve.
“Ah, this is excellent! Good job! This is really delicious,” Ryou hums, licking his fingers in order to clean them from the gravy.
Aomine grunts as he feels his dick jump a bit at the sight of Ryou’s little tongue swiping over his fingers. Then, Ryou yelps, and looks over the crowding house elves with shock written all over his face.
“Ah, I’m so sorry! Where are my manners, just licking my fingers like that! I’m sorry!”
He bows, and Aomine rolls his eyes. As expected, all other house elves start fidgeting nervously and bowing back, throwing screechy apologies back at Ryou. Kitchen is now full of bending bodies, and yelps, and I’m sorry’s.
“Zirky know Mr. Sakurai-san is very good behaved!” Zirky cries over other voices. “All house elves is happy when Mr. Sakurai-san visit! Mr. Sakurai-san always bring good recipe so we can cook better!”
Ryou smiles at them, and gives them back the spoon he was offered. Zirky takes it from him with some sort of baffling gravity, and passes it to the next elf in the queue. This looks like some sort of out-of-place ceremonial ritual, with house elves taking the spoon and passing it with serious, loving expressions on their faces. After the utensil is placed in the sink and washed properly, Ryou worries his lip, and casts a shy glance over the crowd of small bodies.
“I came here to tell you that everyone at the breakfast was, as always, very grateful for your amazing cooking.” He smiles when the house elves start running around, clearly pleased, and worries his lip even more, looking outside the window. “And I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I need to ask you for a favor.”
House elves fidget some more, boring their creepy eyes into Ryou. Aomine gulps – he could never stand house elves. They are really weird, and he always asked his mom to keep their own away. There’s just something really weird about them that gives him nightmares, so he’s sort of, kind of, a bit jealous of Ryou’s bravado to willingly interact with the little creeps.
At last, Ryou stops picking at his nails and glancing around nervously, and brings himself to announce that he would like to prepare a meal. What happens next could be only described as the end of the world – the level of noise caused by these words is so overwhelming that Aomine has to squeeze his eyes and press his palms to his ears.
The house elves go mental, that’s for sure – they run around the kitchen, some of them tripping over others’ legs, throwing their arms up, some running back with various cooking utensils, such as chopping boards, pots and pans, some just jumping up and maniacally looking for something in the cupboards, closing them with loud bangs. But no matter what each elf is doing, all of them seem to scream at various pitches about how sorry they are that the food wasn’t good enough, was there not enough of it, is Mr. Sakurai-san, sir angry, they will punish every elf responsible.
The smallest elf starts to wail.
Aomine opens his eyes, and sees Ryou waving his free arm, simultaneously trying to comfort the crying small elf. He can see his scared eyes trying to bring elves’ attention back to him, and he’s trying to say something. Finally, he bends down, and whispers something into wailing elf’s ear, and the elf looks back at him with a shocked expression. Then, the creature seems to gain bigger presence as it straightens up, and with a very serious, I-has-a-mission sort of face, yells at the top of its tiny lungs.
“Mr. Sakurai-san sir is not angry! You listen to Mister Sakurai-san he is talk now!”
All commotion stops at that, and Zirky slowly comes forward, squinting. “Mr. Sakurai-san, sir! How Mr. Sakurai is do that Malka speak? Malka never speak that loud.”
Ryou laughs nervously, rubbing at his nose. “Um, I asked her to help me, I’m sorry,” he confesses with a slight blush. “I don’t like shouting, especially not at such skilled cooks and kind souls as you. I’m sorry, but you are too amazing to be shouted at.”
Zirky’s huge eyes seem to widen even more. Then, all of the house elves throw themselves at Ryou, some of them just bowing and bumping their heads over his knees, some tugging at his clothes as he laughs softly. Fucking weirdo.
“Um, so the reason I asked to cook, I’m sorry, I should’ve explained straight away! All the food was the best, and there was more than enough for everyone attending! But, Aomine-san missed breakfast, and I have some classes with him later, and I just- I thought I will bring him some lunch, since he didn’t come down for breakfast,” Ryou mutters, his ears red as Mai-chan’s latest bikini.
Aomine notices with a small smirk that this is the longest sentence he’s heard Ryou say in one breath, and that it only consisted of one apology.
“I’m sorry,” Ryou adds, and Daiki has to gulp down a dry laugh.
House elves are nodding encouragingly now, pointing in all the different directions, and offering their help. Malka is dragging a bag full of potatoes probably five times bigger than herself. Then, Daiki has to muffle his snarl as he hears the elf who woke him up speak.
“Mr. Aomine-san, sir is often very rude and snore loud. He is come here every night and eat peanut butter with his fingers,” the elf mumbles, and two other elves screech and run to cover his mouth.
Zirky is visibly shaking. “Mr. Sakurai-san, sir! Zirky is sorry, Zirky is punish bad Rika! Rika don’t speak ill of Mr. Aomine-san, sir! Mr. Aomine-san is can come to kitchens, even if elves is scared of him!” Zirky says with a frown.
Ryou just stands there, and because of the angle, Aomine can’t see his face. He can, however, clearly feel his own face heating up. He’s not very popular with most of the teachers, which isn’t anything surprising, considering his horrible manners and laziness. But to know that house elves hate him, too? He’s not a house elf fan, but he always thought they had some kind of silent agreement between them, where they allowed him to sneak into kitchens and he – well, now that he thinks about it, it’s not like he has anything to bring to the table.
He doesn’t hear Ryou’s reply, if there even is any, and he sulkily walks away from his hiding spot. He quickly glances back, but all the commotion moved to the further parts of the kitchen, where he can’t hear, nor see anything from his position. Only after a few seconds, he registers that the smallest elf, Malka, is standing in the doorway, boring her huge, pale eyes into him. She doesn’t seem afraid, maybe even a bit curious, but he just scowls at her. Nasty little buggers, the whole lot of them. He presses his forefinger to his lips, and turns around.
He’s pretty sure she sticks out a tongue at him.
Three classes later, the heavy, hot ball that settled into his stomach after he overheard the treacherous elf is still making him feel sick. It’s not like he’s ashamed of his behavior – especially not because some ugly-ass elf said he’s a rude and scary person. Fuck no. But he can’t explain this weird feeling he’s having. The worst of all? He hasn’t had breakfast, but because of this ridiculous feeling in his stomach, he’s not even hungry. Which never happens.
Satsuki just shrugs at him and advises him to study more, since his uneasiness is probably caused by the impending exams. Of course, freaking Ravenclaws with their solutions consisting of sticking your nose into a book. Why did he even bother asking her.
His next class is in half an hour, and it’s near Astronomy Tower. He knows he could find Ryou, and harass him for his lunch, but somehow even that doesn’t seem fun. His whole face feels hot, and he would just like to go to sleep. Which is why he abandons all ideas about Ryou and his lunch, and he jumps three steps at time to reach the Astronomy Tower and just sleep it all off.
Of course, since he is the least lucky person on the face of earth, he has to fall over someone’s legs as he does his last, long jump from the last steps. He curses profusely, and scowls at the cause of his accident.
“I’m sorry, Aomine-san! Are you alright? Does anything hurt? I’m so sorry, should we go to the Hospital Wing?”
Aomine groans at the voice, and when he opens his eyes, Ryou is nervously crouching over him with a very worried expressions on his face, and a nicely smelling box held in one hand.
“Nothing that warm food and a kiss can’t heal,” Aomine blurts out before he can process his words.
Ryou takes in a sharp breath, and stares at him with mouth open wide. Aomine feels his face heat up even more than what it has felt for the whole day, and he curses inwardly. And then, he says it out loud as well. That’s how angry he is.
“Oi, Ryou, I’m joking, give me the food,” sighs Daiki, and reaches for the box.
Ryou’s fingers tighten over the box, and in a quick motion, he moves the food away from Aomine’s reach. “Aomine-san, I’m sorry, but what did you– “ he starts, eyebrows frowning, and eyes confused, blinking rapidly, and looking for something in Daiki’s face.
Daiki scowls at him, and tries to make a scary face. It doesn’t seem to work all that much, but suddenly, Ryou realizes his earlier rude behavior. He yelps, jumps a bit, and shoves the lunchbox into Aomine’s chest.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean–” Ryou’s eyes are getting a bit glassy now, and Daiki swears again.
“Ryou,” he mumbles, avoiding looking at Ryou. He opens the box and digs in, then stops for a second, because he can clearly hear Ryou whispering more of his apologies. “Oi, shut it.”
And Ryou does shut up. They sit in silence, broken only by Aomine’s munching and sighing over how good the food is, and some of his good humor is coming back. So, all he needed was indeed just a meal. Satsuki can go and stuff her stupid advice about studying. After he’s finished, he sighs contentedly and stretches, unbuttoning a few of the first and last buttons on his shirt. He loosens his tie, and throws the black robe over Ryou’s lap.
Daiki finally looks up at Ryou for a second, but it’s not a good idea, since all the heavy sex dreams about him come back, flooding his imagination, so he looks away sharply, and just mumbles, announcing that he wants to catch a nap.
Ryou nods, stretches out his legs, and reaches out for a book and a quill from his bag.
This is nothing weird, they started spending their long breaks like that almost a year ago now – with Ryou always bringing him some shit he cooked, Aomine consuming it, and then having a nap with a head in Ryou’s lap.
As usual, Ryou keeps on holding his heavy book above Daiki’s head, as if not to interrupt his sleep. When Daiki opens one eye, he can clearly see Ryou’s arms trembling from exhaustion – the book looks pretty heavy, and it’s not like Ryou is the strongest to begin with. Daiki groans, and yanks at Ryou’s crease-proof, pristine sleeve, closing his eyes when Ryou’s spooked eyes focus on him.
He keeps his eyes closed when he speaks.
“Stop being an idiot and just keep your arms on my chest. I’m on a Quidditch team, so I bet I can handle it.”
He feels Ryou taking in few deep breaths, and then Ryou’s tense muscles relax, as he puts a tentative hand on Daiki’s sternum, and then quickly grabs his book, and keeps only his wrists and forearms on Daiki’s chest, with hands holding the book supported by his bony knees.
The points where their bodies are touching seem to be burning Aomine’s skin, even through all the layers of fabric. He fidgets, shuffling, and keeps on changing his positons. At last, he rolls onto his side, and stares at Ryou’s hands. He can’t sleep, and this is driving him mad. Ryou seems to be unperturbed, which is even more annoying than Daiki’s restlessness, but when he shifts again and looks up at Ryou’s face from under his eyelashes, he takes in his flushed face.
After few minutes, he realizes Ryou isn’t even reading. His eyes don’t move almost at all, apart from blinking, and keep on staring at the seemingly same word for the past few minutes. He breathes shallowly, as if he’s afraid to move at all.
Daiki wonders if that’s what his face looks like, too. And now that he thinks about it, this is how Ryou often behaves when Daiki lays in his lap these days – but before he started to be so aware of Ryou’s body, he never really gave a shit about Ryou’s tenseness. He wonders if Ryou is as aware of him as he is of Ryou.
Aomine Daiki was never much of a thinker. That’s why, before he can ponder over it too much, he mumbles out Ryou’s name, and yanks at his straight tie. Ryou’s body bends, with their faces coming so close that all Daiki can see now is Ryou’s huge, wide-open eyes, blinking furiously. Both of them stop breathing for few moments, and then Ryou slowly breaths out, and Daiki feels his warm breath over his lips.
“What about that kiss, then,” he says, his voice lamely breaking at the end.
Ryou gulps, and the moment he closes his eyes, Daiki yanks him down harder, and their lips brush. He can feel the book sliding down from Ryou’s hands, and now there is a firm pressure of his bony fingers clutching at Daiki’s arm for support.
Daiki lifts up his free hand and rests it on Ryou’s neck, and it seems that Ryou takes it as a sort of a signal, since he’s opening for the kiss now, and all Daiki can think about is fuck, fuck, this is actually happening, as he feels his mouth reacting on its own, opening, and letting Ryou to flick his tongue over Daiki’s. Ryou mumbles something, then perks a kiss over the corner of Daiki’s mouth, and they are at it again – this amazing hotness of their breaths and tongues melting away any thoughts that were still lingering at the edges of Daiki’s mind. His grip on the tie hardens, as does his pressure on Ryou’s neck. He threads his fingers through the silky hair, and notes amusedly that Ryou weirdly smells of strawberries. There is a small gasp from Ryou, and Daiki grunts, but keeps their mouths connected, horribly aroused from this heat.
And then, Ryou is drawing back, and there’s something akin to panic bubbling inside Daiki’s chest – only Aomine Daiki never panics – so he doesn’t allow his fingers to slip away from the smoothness of the black-and-yellow material.
Ryou keeps his hands on his body, though, and isn’t backing away, isn’t running away – he simply takes in a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry, Aomine-san, I couldn’t breathe,” Ryou explains with a weak smile.
Daiki thinks he looks really fucking hot with these wet, swollen lips, and pink cheeks, and slightly disheveled hair. “Heh, that’s fine, don’t worry. You probably didn’t get that much practice, did you.”
Daiki smirks. It’s not like he himself had that much practice apart from few messy, seconds-long failed make-out situations during Slytherin parties. It didn’t really involve that much kissing, either. Ok, so maybe he didn’t get any practice at all, who cares.
Ryou just smiles, and shakes his head. “It’s not that,” he manages between gasps of air. “It’s just, I’m sorry, but you are squeezing my tie really hard, and I can’t breathe.”
After the first wave of paralyzing angry embarrassment passes, he loosens his grip on the Hufflepuff tie. He turns away, scowling, but doesn’t roll away from the warmness of Ryou’s body. When Ryou bends down on his own – this time without any tie-yanking involved – to press a shy kiss to Daiki’s temple, Daiki doesn’t turn back to him, because he’s still cross.
He just smiles instead.