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For Kagami Taiga, life usually doesn’t go the way he wants or expects, especially when it comes to Aomine Daiki.
Ever since meeting that dreadful night at the movie theater, Aomine’s never left him alone. He was somehow always around the red-head whenever he had the chance, and if Kagami didn’t know any better, he’d think Aomine was stalking him. He even voiced this thought out loud at some point, but the bastard just shrugged it off with a smirk, teasing his way out of the accusation with ‘you’d like that, wouldn’t you, Bakagami?’, and a seductive undertone thrown with the words.
Kagami slammed the door in his face.
His spare time was at a minimum thanks to his job, and if he managed to get moments to himself, Aomine would just find him moments later and bug the hell out of him (seriously, it was like he knew).
It got especially worse when Aomine somehow found out where his apartment was, somehow found out where he hid his spare key (which he did, in fact, take for himself), somehow found out which shifts he worked, and somehow discovered the places where Kagami usually occupied when he found his apartment a little too boring for his liking. Honestly, he’s pretty sure that Aomine used his power as a cop to find all this information.
(Aomine was like a swarm of bugs, a never-ending pack of fruit flies, everywhere and nowhere all at once.)
And one day when Kagami got particularly fed up with the other’s bullshit, he sent a frustrated glare at the other, outright demanding why Aomine was around him all the fucking time, and didn’the have anything better to do, to which Aomine responded with a rather sultry ‘yeah, you’. Kagami decided to never bring that subject up again.
All of this because he lost a stupid one-on-one. Had his younger self known at the time that the bet was going to turn out this way, he would have never agreed. Unfortunately for him, he had underestimated Aomine’s basketball talents, not expecting him to beso… well, amazing.
If he wasn’t so irritated with the other’s constant, persistent presence, he would even go as far to say he was almost excited. It’d been a while since he had a proper match in basketball, especially since he quit the sport before his first year of high school. Now at the age of twenty-three, he picked it up again, but before Aomine came along, he spent his time playing the random and inconsistent people he’d meet at the court. Sure they weren’t all bad, some of them were even quite good. But when it came down to it, none of them gave him the thrill of a challenge. None of them could spark the fire inside of Kagami quite like Aomine did.
(None of them could leave him breathless quite like Aomine did, his plays resonating within his bones, imprinted into the back of his minds and his dreams. None of them could push him quite like Aomine did, provoke him into a surreal state of mind, a fine line between his very best and his ultimate potential.
It was nice to have a real rival again.)
That being said, if he put basketball aside, Kagami really hates Aomine. He hates everything about him, starting from his god-damn smirk that irritates him just by looking at it, his stupid (sexy) low voice, his (incredible) basketball skills, how he never seems to take Kagami seriously when they’re playing, just everything.
(There are three things Kagami’s absolutely sure of right now:
- Aomine’s an outright prick.
- He lost a bet and now Aomine’s coming to pick him up any second for their date.
- He really wanted some cheeseburgers right now. Maybe he could ditch the date and get some—)
Knock, knock.
Speak of the devil and he will appear.
Groaning inwardly and outwardly, Kagami stands, hand on the doorknob, before it suddenly twists on its own accord. The door pushes forward, hitting Kagami’s forehead in the process, and he swears loudly, glaring at Aomine as he emerges from the other side of the door.
“Oops, my bad,” he drawls out in that stupid obnoxious low voice of his, not sounding the least bit apologetic for the damage he had done to Kagami’s forehead.
This guy…
“Ow, what the hell?!” Kagami growls, rubbing the spot where the door made contact. “You seriously need to stop walking in whenever you want, bastard.”
“You gave me the key for a reason.”
“What the fuck?! No, I didn’t, asshole! You took it without asking!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Aomine yawns, uninterested in the argument, before digging his hands into his pockets and turning. “Let’s go, idiot. We’re gonna be late because you’re sitting around crying about your keys.”
“Gnnk! I’m not crying, you bastard!”
And as Kagami chases after him with loud curses and heated glares directed towards Aomine’s broad, broad, broad back, he knew that this was going to be a long night.
“Where are we going?”
“On a date.”
“I know that already!”
“Then why’d you ask?” A scoff. “Moron.”
“Shut up! For fucks sake, Ahomine, we’ve been walking around for twenty minutes!”
“Damn. Didn’t know you knew how to count, Bakagami.”
“You’re a real fucking asshole, you know that?!”
The rest of their walk was filled with the usual banter. Aomine would make an offensive comment—usually about the size of Kagami’s brain—and Kagami would glare, yell, curse, or all of the above.
When they finally stop in the middle of some park, Kagami was so done with this night that he was ready to just give up and go home. He doesn’t care what the consequences of going back on this bet were going to be, or how Aomine would surely punish him for it. He just wanted to get away from the asshole before his hair turned grey from the stress that came with dealing with Aomine Daiki.
But as he finally glanced over at the other male, wondering why he suddenly shut up, his thought process seems to stop all at once.
Aomine’s standing there, hands buried in his pocket, his right hip pressing up against a tree, and staring right at him with a look in his eyes that’s so, so—intense. Kagami’s left powerless to look away, and he’s not sure he wants to. No one’s ever looked at him like that in his life, like he’s the only thing in this world.
Their eyes stay locked for quite some time, Aomine’s cerulean blue fixated on Kagami’s crimson red. His heartbeat picks up, the heat of the other’s gaze making the flush of his cheeks more prominent, and he isn’t sure what to do. So he doesn’t do anything, the capricious thump of his heart lulling his thoughts into a hurried state of disorientation.
(It wasn’t as if his heart was loud enough that Aomine could hear it in the silence that had been drawn out in the heat of the moment. It wasn’t as if his heart was thrashing wildly in his chest, swift and agile, making him feel as if it could burst out of his chest at any given moment. No, it wasn’t like that. But it was certainly close. It was that constant, irregular beating of his heart that only got at this pace when he was playing basketball. It only got up to this speed when he was truly fired up. That undeniable feeling of want and desire for something more, something bigger.
What the fuck was happening to him?)
As much as he doesn’t want to, as much as he wants to stay wrapped up in Aomine’s stare for the rest of his life, Kagami finally musters enough will-power to look away from the other. He clears his throat awkwardly, opening his mouth to say something, yet no words come to mind. What does he say after such an intense moment, a moment he’s still trying to distinguish the meaning of?
Kagami Taiga, the loud, spirited, foul-mouthed tiger, is finally at a loss for words.
But in the end, it’s Aomine who speaks up first, staring out into the distance. “To be honest, I haven’t been on many dates. They all turn out shitty. Girls always wanna go to fancy restaurants, sing karaoke, get ‘em flowers, and do all this shit. Tch, it’s a waste of money.” He rubs the back of his neck, rolling his eyes, before he continues. “But you—you’re different.”
Huh?
Swiftly, Aomine’s head turns, and as their eyes lock once more, it’s like he’s trapped in the same position as before. Paralyzed, immobile, his efforts proven useless against the intensity of Aomine’s stare. “I dunno what you like. You’re not into the typical sappy first date shit,” A pause, his eyes flicking away from Kagami as a smirk fell over his face. “Your idea of romance is eating burgers and reading basketball magazines—wait, can you even read, Bakagami? Scratch that. I meant looking at basketball magazines.”
“Shut up! I can read, you prick!” Shaking his head, Kagami glares, before an idea comes to his mind. “Then let’s do that.”
Aomine blinks, perplexed. “Huh?”
“Let’s do that. Go get some burgers, play basketball, maybe watch some basketball at my house—anything but the movie theater.”
“What the hell? Are you an idiot? Wait—don’t answer that. I already know you are.”
“Fuck off! God, you bastard!” He exhales softly, his eyes straying away from Aomine’s. “It’s not a bad idea. We both like basketball, you suck at going to a movie theater, and I’m hungry so—” Before he knows it, his own feet step forward towards the path they first came from, turning his head to look at the other from over his shoulder. “You coming?”
For a brief moment, Aomine seems to hesitate, before he rolls his eyes and smirks. His arm wraps itself around Kagami’s shoulder, all signs of any previous uncertainty gone.
“Heh, you’re a piece of work, Bakagami,” Aomine’s voice drawls out, though something was different in his tone. It was still full of mockery as usual, yet there was a hint of fondness, affection. It wasn’t as sharp as it normally was, as if the insulting words are meant as a way to disguise Aomine’s true feelings.
“Shut the hell up, Ahomine.” And Kagami couldn’t lie that maybe his own self betrayed him and reflected the same within his tone.
(Aomine always told him that he was—and still is—too good for other players, that the only one who could beat him is him, and Kagami would just roll his eyes, shake his head, and tell Aomine he was just full of shit, which he is.
But he knows he wasn’t around at that time, he never saw how bad it got, and the calamitous effects it left on Aomine’s personality and life.
He never knew how lonely Aomine was.)
Both of them decide on playing basketball first before eating, ignoring the protests of Kagami’s grumbling stomach as they make their way over to the court, bickering and bickering. However, upon reaching their usual playing area, they both stop as they see five other players inhabiting it. The players, not wanting to give up their playing time, instead challenge the two of them to a friendly game with the winner receiving the court for the rest of the evening.
That was their mistake.
Aomine and Kagami both dominate the field as a team, two against five. With Aomine’s formless shots, and Kagami’s ruthless dunks, the score easily triples in no time, with the opposing team sweating and panting, powerless against their skills.
Six minutes in Kagami stands back, watching Aomine drive past all five of them. He really is amazing, he thinks, a half-smirk on his face. But the smirk falters into a frown moments later, watching as Aomine dribbles past, but something’s wrong with the picture. And then he realizes what it is: the other team wasn’t moving, their gazes casted downwards as they make no attempts to stop Aomine.
And that’s when Kagami realizes what Aomine meant.
The only one who can beat me is me.
In that moment, he can see it all: six years old, Aomine picking up a basketball for the first time, eyes curious and bright, mirroring the grin he wore when he finally dribbles the orange ball. Seven years old, Aomine dribbling through a group of adults every day, his tiny figure an even match even against the grown men. Thirteen years old, Aomine finally evolving his basketball skills to the point where he’s unstoppable. Sixteen years old, ten years later from the fated day Aomine first picked up a ball only to set it down for good in the absence of a true rival.
Kagami swallows, his heart aching just slightly in his chest. When he and his childhood friend and brother figure, Himuro Tatsuya, had a fight over basketball, it ultimately led to the latter betting their friendship rings on the outcome of their next game against each other. If Kagami won, he would give the rings away and no longer call him his brother. If Himuro won, all would be the same, and nothing would change. He remembers feeling lost, conflicted. Himuro was his brother, and he didn’t want to fight him. He didn’t want to be his enemy, didn’t want basketball to tear their bond apart.
So he fled America and returned to his native country, never picking a ball up again in hopes that he wouldn’t have to play him, wouldn’t have to lose his closest friend and brother. By the time he ran into Himuro for the first time after their fight, it had been five years later, and basketball was but a distant memory.
If he hadn’t given up on basketball, and played against Aomine in high school as he is now, would he have been able to prevent the loss of such raw, prodigious talent? Would he have been able to save Aomine from the deep pit of loneliness, searching and yearning for the rival of his dreams, only to fall in an even deeper pit, withdrawing from the sport and his former self completely?
(Would he have been able to save Aomine from himself, arrogance disguising the need for something more?)
He watches as the other players retreat, shoulders slumped over, discouraged. Aomine turns around, a smirk on his face, but Kagami knows enough to know that the smirk doesn’t quite reach his eyes, that seeing someone else give up for the nth time because of his talent hurts him deep down.
“Heh. I kicked their ass,” Aomine yawns, feigning boredom, but Kagami knows better. “Oh, yeah. Guess you helped too. You made a pretty good cheerleader, Bakagami. Maybe next time dress up in a skirt.”
Kagami doesn’t respond to the jab, looking down at the ground. All he could think about was Aomine, young and pure, whole-hearted, until he turned into something different: jaded, alone and powerful.
(Aomine had the gift of immortality bestowed upon him, but there’s no one for him to share it with.)
“Oi, Kagami. Wake up, moron,” Aomine nudges him, and Kagami finally snaps out of it enough to respond, a fierce look of determination on his face. Even if he couldn’t make up for Aomine’s lack of a proper rival back in high school, that doesn’t mean he can’t make up for it now.
“Let’s play. I’m not going to lose this time either, Aomine, so you better prepare yourself.”
Aomine blinks, surprised at the sudden resolution, before grinning and laughing. “Jeez, you really are a piece of work. Fine, loser buys burgers.” Just like that, their second bet was made.
(Kagami’s heart couldn’t help but swell up in joy when he saw the spark in Aomine’s eyes.
After all, he knew well enough what a spark of hope looked like.)
He loses to Aomine, but it was a close game. Maybe if he actually had some food in his stomach he would've won, maybe it wouldn’t have made a difference. In the end, all he knows is that he has all the time in the world to get his revenge against Aomine Daiki, to make Aomine whole again.
(And he couldn’t deny it anymore: he was falling for Aomine, falling deeply, and he was here to stay.)
Luckily for Kagami, he always brings spare money with him in case he unexpectedly decided to buy copious amounts of food. The two of them make their way over to Maji Burger in record time, and Aomine isn’t surprised at all, complaining that Kagami always comes here. Kagami only rolls his eyes, glaring at the other and telling him to go somewhere else if he hates it that much. But Aomine doesn’t leave (and Kagami’s secretly happy about that, for he’s slowly getting used to Aomine’s presence), and that’s the end of it.
Aomine orders two teriyaki burgers and a drink, while Kagami orders nearly thirty cheeseburgers, much to the other male’s shock.
“What the hell? How much are you planning to eat?” Aomine’s eyes narrow in a suspicious, wary glare, drifting from Kagami’s food to his face. “There’s no way you can eat all of that. You just wasted your money, you idiot.”
Kagami doesn’t say anything in retort, raising a challenging split-brow, before digging into his food. It takes all he has in him not to smirk at Aomine’s stunned look as he works on his food, too hungry to be smug about it. After two minutes and forty-two seconds of eating, he emerges victorious, his burgers fully consumed.
“That was disgusting,” are the only words Aomine can get out, and Kagami glares at him.
“You burped and blew it into my face yesterday.”
The other laughs, leaning back and smirking as if it’s one of his proudest achievements. “I wanted a kiss, but then I had to burp. Your face was just there.”
He wants to retort, wants to yell at Aomine for being so gross, but he can’t. The words kiss ring in his mind, and he shivers. Aomine’s never kissed him, and now he’s left wondering what it would be like. What would it feel to have his lips press against Aomine’s, to run his fingers through the tips of his hair and their lips meet? Would Aomine’s hands roam his body, pull him closer and closer? Would he push Kagami down onto his back, his lips attacking his neck, until they go down, down, down—
“—Oi, Kagami!” He feels a hard flick on his forehead as he snaps out of his thoughts. His eyes widen comically large as he rubs at the abused spot, before narrowing sharply to glare at a smirking Aomine.
“What the hell?! That hurt, you prick!”
“You were just sitting there drooling,” Aomine retorts, and Kagami suddenly feels a wave of self-consciousness. Had he really been drooling? “What were you even thinking about anyway?”
The red-head hesitates, looking away from the other’s questioning look. You. I was thinking of you, he thinks to himself, but there’s no way I’m going to tell you that. Aomine’s ego didn’t need any more inflating, so instead he says, “Nothing. I wasn’t thinking about anything.”
Aomine doesn’t buy it, giving Kagami a suspicious once-over. “Hah? Don’t give me that shit,” he pauses, before a look akin to realization graces his facial features, and then it soon turns smug moments after. “You were thinking about kissing me, weren’t you?”
“What?! No!” He responds automatically, a little too defensive in the face of Aomine’s grin.
“You were. You were imagining it, weren’t you? What it would be like to kiss me,” Aomine laughs, self-righteous, as he leans in over the table, face inches away from Kagami’s. “Why don’t you find out, tiger?”
Aomine’s cool breath ghosts over his lips, a ticklish sensation. He can feel the goose bumps form all over his body as his ravenous eyes flicker to the other’s lips, biting on the inside of his cheek. It’s such a tempting, sinful sight, and he’s not sure he’ll be able to control himself here and now if he gives in to it. If I lean in, would I even be able to stop—? Then Aomine leans forward like he’s had enough of waiting for Kagami to decide, and his mind blanks. His eyes close on their own, expectant, as he awaits the sensation of Aomine’s lips against his own.
… But what comes instead is the sound of a burp, followed the feeling of something blowing on his face. The twitch in his eyebrow comes back at full force, and he grabs Aomine’s collar with a deathly tight grip, glaring furiously as Aomine laughs.
“Did you actually just burp in my fucking face?! Again?!”
“Whoops, my bad.”
“You asshole! I’ll actually kill you!”
He returns to his house in a brooding, infuriated silence. Kagami practically stomps the whole way, his aura omitting rage and murder as Aomine follows behind, hands stuffed in his pocket, all too casual. The kiss didn’t end out in the way he expected, and the fact that he’s disappointed about that pisses him off the most. He should’ve known better than to fall into Aomine’s trap like that, to think that he was actually serious.
Fucking Aomine. Just when I actually start liking him, he does this shit.
His door finally comes into view after a few moments of walking, and he lets out a relieved sigh, eager to get in and forget all about this date. Slipping his keys into the lock, his back turns on the other, ignoring all that Aomine’s doing behind him. That is until a dark hand shoots out next to him, slamming the door shut before he can open it.
“Aomine! Cut that shit out!” His head turns, brows furrowed as he glares harshly at the other. “I wanna go home, so just leave.”
“Shut up, Kagami,” Aomine demands, unmoving. “Listen to me, idiot. Don’t be pissed off because of what happened.”
“Don’t be pissed off?” He laughs, disbelief and anger overtaking him. “You’re a fucking asshole, and I’m not putting up with it anymo—”
Another fierce slam cuts him off before he can continue, Aomine’s other hand keeping him pinned to the brown oak of the door as he glares at Kagami, strong and firm. “Just let me talk, Kagami.”
Kagami says nothing in retort for once, choosing to let his enraged eyes do the talking instead. But Aomine doesn’t falter, and it’s an almost admirable trait. After a few moments of ensuring his silence, the other finally begins, “I didn’t kiss you at Maji Burger because… Fuck, I didn’t know if I would be able to stop.”
What?
His heart stutters, his spiteful glare wavering at the revelation as his head reels in a way that has nothing and everything to do with Aomine Daiki. Aomine… felt the same way I did?
“I thought if I kissed you I wouldn’t be able to control myself, and you’d hate me for doing it in public. So I backed up instead,” Aomine pauses, hands roaming downwards and circling Kagami’s waist. “Let me do it again. I’ll do it right this time.”
The disembodied voices in his mind scream at him to stop, to retreat into the comfort of his home and distance himself from Aomine forever. That Aomine’s an asshole, always will be, and there’s nothing he can do to change that. But he shuts that part of his brain off and turns his head, breath catching in his throat as their eyes clash yet again. As always, Aomine’s eyes are intense, solid, but if he squints, he can see a certain tenderness hidden deep within. The whole intensity of the situation overwhelms him, makes him want to run away, but he stays planted where he is. His eyes never stray from Aomine’s, watching as they come closer and closer, before both pair of eyelids shut. He half-expects another burp, for Aomine to laugh and pull away, but then their lips meet, and Kagami can’t help but moan.
With one sense gone all the others are heightened. He can smell Aomine’s cologne, musky and faint. He can taste Aomine’s lips, exclusive to Aomine and Aomine only. He can feel the other, lips pushing against his own, thumbs rubbing circles into his sensitive skin. He can hear Aomine, moaning and grunting softly as their bodies push together.
It’s better than he imagined it’d be.
They kiss for what feels like years and years, pressed against each other in the corner of Kagami’s doorway. Aomine pulls away first, panting softly as he knocks their foreheads together. His face is slightly flushed, an expression that he doesn’t often see on Aomine’s face, but has grown to whole-heartedly enjoy when he does.
“Heh,” Aomine smirks cockily, but it loses almost all of its effect thanks to the blush present on his cheeks. “Not bad, Bakagami.”
Kagami simply rolls his eyes, a small smile forming as he opens his front door and pulls the other inside, entirely too eager. “Yeah, yeah. Just come in before the neighbors see us, asshole.”
“Heh, didn’t think you’d sleep with someone on the first date.”
“S-shut up and get inside, you bastard!”
The door didn’t open again until the next morning when Kagami's awoken by a loud, obnoxious burp in his face and kicks Aomine out.