Work Text:
beep, beep, beep. beep, beep, beep.
A hand reaches out from the blankets, fumbles with the phone, and sets the alarm to "snooze" for the third time. A momentary respite, interrupted by the whistle melody that serves as Kise's ringtone.
"Mmm," Kise mumbles into the phone.
"You needed to be in the gym half an hour ago!" It's his trainer. "I don't care if you--"
Kise cuts him off. "Not today. Tomorrow, I promise." He hangs up and sets his phone back down on the side table.
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He can't shake the headline out of his head -- "BLAZERS DEFEAT HAWKS IN 7; AOMINE'S BUZZER-BEATER CLINCHES CHAMPIONSHIP." With the late-morning sun filtering through the windows, Kise finally surrenders to the day and slumps out of bed.
He glances at his phone -- 154 messages, none of which he wants to look at. He's sure they're all about the game. Still, he scrolls through, replying to his agent about an interview request and a modeling shoot he's doing for one of his sponsors. His eyes pause when "Aomine Daiki" appears in bold:
From: Aomine Daiki To: Kise Ryouta June 8, 6:29 AM EDT got home safely see you next week
Kise thumbs out a reply:
From: Kise Ryouta To: Aomine Daiki June 8. 10:58 AM EDT Glad to hear you're okay.
He pauses, then hurriedly adds another line.
Congrats, btw.
-------
When they started dating in college, they knew this would happen. They knew the draft would separate the two of them, across a country, maybe across the continent. It wasn't like college, where they could pick which school they wanted to go to -- UNC. (Aomine insisted, "Michael Jordan went there!") But they hadn't expected to be separated like this. Aomine was taken third, after Akashi and Kagami -- by the Portland Trail Blazers. Kise fifth, by the Atlanta Hawks, with Midorima wedged in between the two of them. Separated by three time zones and a conference, they made do as they could -- away games at the other's team, all-star week, and the offseason.
It hurt too that their agent made them keep their relationship secret. Not that their teammates would have minded, or even that America would have disliked non-straight basketball stars (who cares when you can pour in points like Aomine?), she worried that people would question whether or not they could play to their full extent against one another. They understood, but it hurt nonetheless.
Kise swirled the remainder of the coffee in his mug before knocking the rest of it down. Well, he kind of understood. Fans might think he would play easy on Aomine, but when he feels like this, it couldn't be further from the truth.
The play replays itself over and over in his head. Atlanta up by one with a single possession left. Their point guard brings up the ball, and calls the play. 15 seconds. The center comes up to the top of the key, and sets a pick. The guard begins to penetrate the lane, but Kise steps in, and forces the guard to kick it out to the forward on the wing: Aomine. Kise sprints out to the three to cover, but he's a second too late. Aomine crosses left, right, and past him. 7 seconds left. Kise manages to get in front of him again, but that too is a fake. Aomine steps back and fades away. Over Kise's outstretched hand, he nails the medium-range jumper. The horn sounds and Portland revels.
Kise buries his head in his hands and sighs.
-------
Kise waits in the back of the professional cab in the airport. He checks his phone -- no messages. He checks again just in case -- still no messages. Leaning his head against the window of the car, he taps the back of his phone as a distraction.
Five minutes pass, and Kise alternates between staring out at the families packing their luggage into cars in the arrivals queue and glancing at his phone impatiently. It vibrates just as he sets down his phone on the leather seat.
From: Aomine Daiki To: Kise Ryouta June 15, 8:42 PM EDT just landed. i'll grab my stuff and be out in fifteen.
Kise jumps and fumbles out a response.
From: Kise Ryouta To: Aomine Daiki June 15, 8:42 PM EDT I'm so excited to see you again, Daiki! These are gonna be the longest fifteen minutes of my life...
The chauffeur shoots him a look through the rear view mirror as he bounces in his seat.
From: Aomine Daiki To: Kise Ryouta June 15, 8:43 PM EDT I think you'll be fine waiting ten more minutes
From: Aomine Daiki To: Kise Ryouta June 15, 8:44 PM EDT You're still so mean to me, Daiki... ;_;
Ten minutes later, there's a rap on the window. Kise excitedly opens the door, and Aomine, snapback, shades, and hoodie, steps in. Kise wants nothing more than to jump up and kiss him, right there, but he restrains himself.
"Your apartment, Mr. Kise?"
"Yep!"
They sit in silence until the chauffeur deposits them at Kise's apartment twenty minutes later. They tip him handsomely, retrieve Aomine's bags out of the trunk, and scuttle up the stairs.
The instant the door shuts, Kise is kissing Aomine full on the mouth, pulling him down by the collar to bring Aomine to his level. Aomine is startled, but eases into it. It lasts for a blissful eternity.
Kise pulls away when he needs air. He leans his forehead into Aomine's. Through his breaths, he pants out an "I missed you."
Aomine grins a cheeky grin in response, and kisses Kise back, Kise on tiptoes to match Aomine. He shrugs off his duffel bag, and Kise dumps his messenger bag unceremoniously next to it. They shuffle over to the couch in the main room, kissing the whole way.
Aomine sits with his back against the armrest, and Kise drapes himself on top of him. He kisses again and again, before laying his head on Aomine's chest.
"You know, having you here, I can almost forgive what you did to me in game 7."
Aomine snorts. "You're so romantic."
Kise blushes and buries his face back in Aomine's chest. "You're not fair."
Aomine laughs in full this time, and pulls Kise's face back up. "I know," he says, kissing him again.
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Kise gives up on sulking eventually, and goes for a run. It's nice to get outside and get some fresh air, he thinks, trying to ignore all the people on the sidewalk who stop to take pictures of him. But he keeps thinking about the loss, and his feet pound harder and harder.
He returns drenched in sweat from the mid-June Atlanta heat. He rummages around for his phone on the counter before finding it and sending a text off to Aomine, who was probably still asleep.
From: Kise Ryouta To: Aomine Daiki June 8, 2:30 PM EDT You beat me, but you can bet I'll take it back next year!
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Aomine drifts in and out of sleep, Kise conked out next to him. Waking up a bit, he leans over and checks to see if Kise is truly out for the count. He covers up the rest of Kise's torso with the blanket that had fallen down, and tucks himself in for good, too.
"I missed you too, Ryouta."