Aokuro Valentine's Event

His silence must have put Daiki off, because he clears his throat and his eyes shift from place to place, carefully avoiding Tetsuya's eyes. Or maybe it's because of the ridiculous squabble they had yesterday.

Sometimes Tetsuya wishes they both weren't so stubborn.

“Living room,” he replies calmly. “Exactly where you last took it off.”

Daiki's eyes dart towards the hickey Tetsuya is still touching, linger there for a while.

“I uh... Yeah, thanks.”

He leaves as abruptly as he came, but his shoulders lose some of the tension somewhere in that short moment.

Tetsuya's eyes return to his reflection in the mirror, to the vibrant patch of red on his collarbone.

It isn't like Daiki to be possessive.

But it is so like him to approach everything like he approaches basketball, Tetsuya decides. So very like him to push until he owns it. Until his mark on it is permanent.

A part of Tetsuya rejoices at the thought; the other is paralysed with terror.

It's not like he minds the marks themselves. They are never visible from beneath his teacher uniform, and sweaty locker rooms and common showers are now a thing of the past.

It is the implication that makes the room spin.

It is not so long ago that they played a game with Kagami and Kise, and something in Daiki changed then. Something in his eyes, something Tetsuya couldn't – wasn't ready to, a tiny voice whispers – try to understand. It got more awful with each pass Tetsuya made, and he had to look away even though he promised himself to never do so again.

That night, Daiki caught him in the shower and took him against the tiled wall. It was greedy and hurried and raw, and Tetsuya's shoulder stung from where Daiki bit him to muffle the screams. His fingers dug painfully into Tetsuya's hips, leaving behind bruises, and if Tetsuya had any ability to think at that moment, he would've been terrified they were going to be permanent. And then Daiki just retreated, without a word, leaving Tetsuya breathless and worn under the scalding water. When he closed his eyes, he could still feel Daiki trembling against him.

Sometimes Tetsuya longs for control he knows he never had when it comes to Daiki. He swears to himself to stay silent, to stay composed, but fails miserably each time. Despite the promises, he opens up in every way possible. And Daiki takes it all, with a strange look of delight on his face.

But Tetsuya is nothing if not determined.

So he clings desperately to what little parts he still has to himself, patches his carefully built walls, and watches Daiki take them apart again, not block by block, but all at once, demolishing the concrete until only tiny pebbles remain.

Tetsuya tells him to stop one time – half-heartedly, perhaps – but Daiki doesn't listen because when has he ever. He lets out a throaty laugh and traces the shape of Tetsuya's neck with his tongue. His movements are languid and careless and mocking. Tetsuya's eyes narrow and he tugs at Daiki's short hair, hard. Daiki laughs again, then sinks his teeth in the junction between Tetsuya's neck and shoulder.

Daiki's new hobby escalates to the point where he starts marking Tetsuya even during such trivial things as cooking breakfast. He comes behind Tetsuya, fresh from the shower, and the cold droplets of water fall on Tetsuya's skin – slide down his neck, his spine – making Tetsuya shiver. Daiki buries his face in the fine hair at the nape of Tetsuya's neck, nuzzles it gently and then pulls a patch of skin into his mouth, nibbling and sucking on it until it turns bright red. Tetsuya doesn't move, his fingers clutching the skillet turn white.

The same routine is repeated the next morning, and the next, and the next. Sometimes it's his neck, sometimes it's his shoulder, and sometimes the marks are all over him because Daiki is selfish and he takes Tetsuya deep and slow on the kitchen counter even though they both have to be at work soon.

Tetsuya never stops frowning in disapproval. Daiki never stops doing it anyway.

And each time, Tetsuya feels his control slip through his fingers like grains of sand.

- - -

It is only months later, after their biggest fight to day – as he once again finds himself looking at his reflection in the mirror, at the fading marks scattered across his skin – that Tetsuya realises he's been wrong all along.

Tetsuya wants to laugh at his own stupidity.

Daiki, the big idiot, really does approach everything like basketball. He does expect everything. Tetsuya merely forgot that he also gives just as much in return.

And as Tetsuya traces the marks Daiki left behind with silent wonder, he feels calm, content. Because he knows that as long as these marks stay with him, they – the two of them – are going to be okay.

- - -

He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, and nearly tripped over his own two feet reading the message.

I can’t sleep. Where are you? Wanna go grab something?

For a moment Tetsuya couldn’t think quite clearly enough, and his fingers moved of its own accord that it had been several seconds after he pressed “Send” that he realised he had just said yes to the offer. He reread his message again, feeling a different kind of knot, one that was unrelated to his earlier actions, tighten in his stomach.            

I am in the vicinity of the stadium. There’s a Maji nearby.

Tetsuya was so surprised by the fact that he had texted him in the middle of the night. Tetsuya just started walking towards the nearest Maji Burger and opted to wait there, but then he remembered the basketball he carried in his duffel bag, and there was a court nearby. He had long since discovered that when all was getting too weird or confusing, basketball almost always helped him clear his mind.

(Almost always.)

It was empty when he got there, with the lampposts brightening up only half of the court. He dropped his bag in a corner, took out the ball, and stationed himself at the free throw line. The ball felt lighter than usual in his hands, and the glow of his buzzer beater enveloped him with a warm feeling, warm enough that he couldn’t help but smile and extend his arm and let go of the ball in one smooth push of his palm. It left his hold and sunk into the basket perfectly, quiet and easy as one of Daiki’s more normal shots.

Which brought him back to the question of why that guy, of all people, would suddenly want to go out to a restaurant with him well past ten in the evening. He said he couldn’t sleep; Tetsuya didn’t want to sympathise, didn’t want to care or feel worried or sorry for him, really, because how many nights had he wasted lying in bed wide awake and wondering how to get to Daiki and bring him back to his senses? But he still did, for some odd reason, because it was Daiki and he knew Daiki was rarely sleepless. Guy that large had his fair share of sleep, and he had always been a baby seemingly in eternal need of fifteen hours of sleep every day. It didn’t make anything less confusing, however, so for the next twenty minutes or so, Tetsuya contented himself with shooting some more and practicing drives against invisible opponents, calculating the various possibilities that could happen in the match against Rakuzan later that day, and while it kept his curiosity at bay, it didn’t stop the onslaught of memories from his middle school days, when he used to stay late to do the same things he was doing then, not when the story had just been retold and the images were still too fresh in his mind to even try to bury once more.

He didn’t really even bother pushing the memories down; it felt amazing, in a way, because it reminded him of how far he had come since. Telling his team the real story was a liberating experience too, something that allowed him to breathe easier for all the right reasons. Taiga’s reaction at the end was a little surprising, but if he was to be completely honest with himself, it shouldn’t have been unexpected. He was stupid to think they would change their opinion of him, stupid to think they wouldn’t accept what he had been, but then again he never claimed to be particularly smart. That, and his middle school friends might have rubbed off on him a bit.

Friends. Something was a bit off about the word, and just as Tetsuya thought it, his hand jerked and the ball that had been aiming for the hoop fell short of its goal. The ball fell to the concrete, dully thumping, thump, thump, thumpthump, thumpthumpthumpthump—

“That was a lame shot, even for you.”

Something else began thumping loud, and Tetsuya was sure it wasn’t the ball, which he ran to and grabbed a little too forcefully. He dribbled a few more times, keeping his back away from the direction where the voice just came from, and attempted to shoot from three feet away. Close enough to at least sink another shot before finally—

“Tetsu.”

There came a loud thump that resonated too loudly in his ear, and again his hand moved and the ball missed. Tetsuya sighed as he went back to retrieve it, and finding no more reason to keep denying the urge (or was it need? Tetsuya had no way of knowing) to see the new arrival, turned to face him.

Tetsuya’s eyes were still adjusting to the darkness after the bright lights he had been facing for the past thirty minutes or so, and he couldn’t see a thing beyond the lit side of the court, but he forced a smiled at the darkness all the same. “I was wondering why you wanted to go eat so late tonight. You know I need rest.”

Daiki grunted in disbelief. “I also know you can’t sleep on nights before matches.”

Tetsuya hummed in agreement and started walking toward his duffel bag in the corner, near where Daiki stood. He was close enough to smell the faint whiff of the same old perfume Daiki wore ever since their second year. He rummaged in his bag, looking for refreshment, and as he brought out his water bottle he realised he had just finished off his water supply at the match against Kaijou and was therefore left thirsty from the exercise. He sighed, hefted the bag up his shoulders, and prepared to leave for Maji when Daiki extended an arm and Tetsuya was suddenly faced with a large bottle of Pocari.

“You should know better than to forget about drinks, really,” Daiki admonished him, looking straight into his eyes with an expression of exasperation. “Isn’t this an age-old agreement between you, me, and Satsuki?”

Tetsuya was surprised by the memory. “Yes,” he said, short of a whisper, because he couldn’t quite believe that Daiki remembered such an obscure piece of their middle school years. The Pocari had surprised him back then at the hot springs, but that was probably understandable considering the amount of time he used to waste looking all around town for Pocari during those brighter Teikou days, but this, the remembrance of that random promise they made Satsuki halfway through their first year in the basketball club (it was the one time when he passed out from dehydration, and Satsuki was not happy about it at all) was inexplicable, unless Daiki had actually taken that promise to heart. “Yes, it was. Is,” he hurried corrected himself, taking a deep breath and chugging half the bottle in one go. Is.

(But then, considering how much happier he had been then, Tetsuya supposed it wasn’t really unexpected after all.)

(Still… Why would he remember?)

(Even more surprising was the present tense he had used it with. Surely Daiki knew how much semantics meant to him?)

(No, it would not do to think too much about it.)

He nearly choked on his drink, and sputtered a bit of it. Daiki laughed quietly and jerked his head in the direction of the main road. “Come on, let’s go eat, I’m starving.”

It was an uneventful midnight snack. Generally all they did was talk about Akashi and Kise, and Tetsuya’s shooting practice, and the occasional strategic talk on how Rakuzan could be defeated (which was mostly Tetsuya, as Daiki only kept saying “shoot more, shoot the ball when you can” because he never really thought about how winning was achieved; in Teikou, that was Akashi’s job, and in Touou it was Satsuki’s and Imayoshi-san’s). There were awkward silences… A lot of them, actually, punctuating every laugh or every end of discussion. Those silences were so full of a weird, neutral kind of tension so palpable Tetsuya had to ask himself more than once if it was just him or Daiki or them both, and if them both then why? He wasn’t so sure he wanted to know the answer.

They finished eating at around eleven thirty; even though he had a Finals match the next day, Tetsuya actually didn’t mind the time at all. It was nice to just go around doing things mindlessly like this, and having someone with him – Daiki, in particular – made everything a little better. They went around town for a while, and since it was the Finals, few shops had closed for the night. The whole of Tokyo was alive and awake and sprawling with locals who came for the Winter Cup, and even department stores remained open for last minute shopping. They went into a couple of stores to look for basketball shoes, making small talk, sometimes recalling a funny thought from middle school, or even reviving old jokes, but mostly speaking to each other like they had done during shooting practices and – dare he say it – those days when they’d walk home together after school. It had been like this since their last match against each other, and it was nice l to know that they had begun warming up to each other again after a year of separation. Tetsuya still had trouble believing it, because with Daiki it had become so hard to truly believe, given the number of times they’ve both been let down by everything and everyone including themselves, but somehow he was making his way there faster than he had prepared for the day he asked Daiki to teach him to shoot.

They even had some time to catch up, which was nice.

“Satsuki’s got a boyfriend now,” Daiki told him while they were choosing basketball shoes.

Tetsuya thought that was pleasant news. “That’s good. It’s nice to know someone’s finally looking out for her.” She had, after all, had to babysit six unimpressive and tiring immature boys. “What about this?” He showed Daiki a particular shoe which the latter dismissed with an unimpressed glance.

“The soles don’t look too firm, it’ll probably wear out on you in two, three matches.” Daiki snorted derisively before continuing. “And Imayoshi-san had better take care of Satsuki. Even as my captain I’d beat the crap out of that creep if he does anything to her. Though Satsuki will probably beat me to it.” Tetsuya, while a little shocked indeed, smiled at those words; he was still as protective of Satsuki, and she was still as independent and capable as ever.

“Imayoshi-san, huh,” Tetsuya said as he went down another row where he saw Daiki bent over, examining a rather good-looking model. It was black, with dark blue strips running all around it. Tetsuya actually liked it. “I never would have known she liked the bad-boy type.”

At that Daiki actually laughed. “What are you talking about, she liked you, didn’t she?” He grunted, then handed him the shoe. “Here. Try this one. It’s got better sole work, way sturdier, it’s been sewn all over the place too so it won’t fall off, and… yeah, I kind of like the colour too.”

Daiki was – and Tetsuya blinked a couple of times to make sure it was real – blushing. Black and blue, huh. Tetsuya thought amusedly at how painfully oblivious the guy could sometimes be, and could Daiki get any less obvious about it? Because if this was the guy’s idea of subtlety then it wasn’t working very well. He took the shoe and put it on, saw how perfectly fit it was, and checked the price. His eyes widened ever so slightly; too expensive. Reluctantly, because he really did like them, he gave them back to Daiki with a small, sad smile. “I can’t afford that, but it really does look great.”

Daiki made a noncommittal noise and put the shoe back on its shelf. “The selection here is terrible anyway,” he said, “s’not really worth the price and all.”

They went out of the store and walked some more, resuming their topic on Satsuki’s love life. “I think it isn’t really unexpected, now that I think about it.” It was a perfect combination of all the wrong sorts. Satsuki was smart and Imayoshi-san was cunning, and with this new-found relationship, Touou could possibly become even more formidable because now they’d have all the time in the world for strategizing. Not that he would put it past Satsuki to be ignored in favour of work.

Daiki agreed with him. “It’s a match made in hell.” He sounded a little mournful, and maybe Tetsuya could see why. “You should see them when they get started on the flirting. It’s horrible.”

Smart flirting, for sure. “I’m guessing they’re being as vague as possible?”

Daiki snorted. “Yeah, right, they’re being vague,” he mumbled. “They’re about as subtle as Kise when he’s drunk. Really. And I have to suffer through all of it because of friendship reasons. Which, by the way, should be banned because it isn’t fair.” Tetsuya watched him as he spoke, and did not look away when Daiki caught his eye. In fact, he smiled – which to others would not be as evident as it would be to Daiki, who knew him best – but the way Daiki scoffed and rolled his eyes confirmed the notion that even after all that had passed, Daiki still knew him best. Tetsuya, so lost in his thoughts, almost missed Daiki’s complaints. “You’re enjoying this,” he accused Tetsuya, “you’re actually having fun watching me suffer!”

Tetsuya stopped walking; in all actuality, those words stung him more than it should have, and Daiki probably didn’t even know the weight his words carried or the heaviness that had suddenly appeared in his chest. He wanted to say no, he didn’t have fun watching Daiki suffer, he didn’t even like seeing him disappointed, how could he possibly have fun watching him suffer? But those were the words of someone who had started to overthink, and things would get awkward if he pursued that train of thought, so instead he dwelt on the happier, less dark side of Daiki’s accusation, pursed his lips and forced to keep his laughter at bay. “It can’t really be that bad, can it?”

“They’re talking about balls and hoops and you would not think they’re talking about basketball at all.” Daiki made a face that clearly showed his disapproval. Tetsuya should probably ask Satsuki about those flirtatious remarks; perhaps he could do something to minimise Daiki’s discomfort. Or heighten it, whichever sounds better. “It’s fucking disgusting.”

“Wow, that bad huh.”

“You have no idea.”

“Oh, yeah? Try me.”

The small, quiet smile Daiki let slip at those words made Tetsuya’s heart jump right out of his chest, and if Daiki looked at him he’d probably see the stupid awe on Tetsuya’s face.

They decided to go home quarter past twelve. Daiki and Tetsuya walked to the train station in comfortable silence, discussing more about the outcome of the match tomorrow and more of Satsuki and Imayoshi-san’s interesting methods of flirtation, and when the train arrived Tetsuya was surprised to see Daiki get on board with him. “Don’t you live close by, Aomine-kun?”

Daiki shrugged and made a noncommittal noise. “I’m gonna stay over at our house tonight. Y’know, to watch your match tomorrow.”

Tetsuya could deny it all he wanted, but he was actually quite happy to hear that they were going home together, like old times. That, and Daiki had just said he was staying to watch his match. “Oh.” It was all he could manage as they entered and the train began moving and the fifteen minute ride home commenced. Their carriage was empty except for themselves, which was understandable given the lateness of the hour, but even that knowledge did not silence Tetsuya’s rampaging imagination.

Daiki rummaged in his pockets and stayed quiet. Tetsuya observed him as he moved, taking careful note of the way he still managed to make even the clumsiest action look far too graceful; even Kagami’s actions couldn’t be as smooth as Daiki’s. It was so unfair that while the rest of the world stumbled and fell on their feet, Aomine Daiki ambled idly in a straight line, not even looking where he went, unafraid of falling at all, and so ignorant of the mesmerising way he moved. His face was scrunched up in concentration, but in the way his eyes slanted Tetsuya could see something that wasn’t there before—or rather, something that had been lost somewhere in Teikou’s halls.

At some point, Daiki saw the need to stand up, and in one lithe move, his height unfurled before Tetsuya’s eyes. From his viewpoint sitting down, Daiki was even taller, even higher than he could remember. His clothes hid much of his body’s muscular bulk and there wasn’t much to see from the back (except perhaps that b—but really, he’d rather not go there), but the tall frame and the nimble actions and the gentle look on his face as he sat back down and bit his lip the way he always did when he was annoyed — all these gave way to a realisation Tetsuya probably already had a long time which he only recognised now, and it punched some of the air out of his lungs hard enough to make him gasp.

Daiki really was perfect.

There was a feral kind of perfection in Daiki, and Tetsuya knew it as much as anyone, but it seemed that the older he got, the sharper and more defined that perfection became. Growing up had chiselled away all remnants of the childishness in him, and in that moment, with Daiki silent and open to Tetsuya’s shameless ogling, Tetsuya saw a hint of who and what Daiki could become if things went as right as they had been going just then.

(He wanted to be there again to see Daiki’s change. Or to see Daiki staying the same. Either way, he just really wanted to be there again, in the same picture.)

(Or not even—he just wanted to be there.)

Tetsuya was just wondering what to say next when Daiki cleared his throat and spoke in a hoarse voice. “So… Yeah.”

His words were greeted by silence from Tetsuya, thicker and more pronounced that all the other silences that evening, because Tetsuya didn’t know what to think or say. They were alone in a train ride for the next ten or so minutes, devoid of the distractions that the streets offered them, and he had read enough novels to know a number of possibilities that could happen in this situation. While none of them were unwanted, he could not see any of them play out without his heart hammering away like mad. His most recent thoughts did not help either as they muddled his brain even more.

He felt his breath catch just as Daiki said his name.

“Uh… So… Tetsu…”

It was taking all his self-control to just level the tone of his voice as he replied, “Yes, Aomine-kun?” He felt his face go hot, so he leaned his head back and pressed his cheeks against the cold glass. He closed his eyes, forced himself calm, and demanded that he act more like a normal teenage boy with a close friend than a squeamish boy about to get confessed to by his long-time crush. It wasn’t easy. An Ignite Pass Kai was definitely a piece of cake compared to that.

Whatever it was that Tetsuya was expecting, however, was shot to hell. “Uh… I think I don’t have enough money to get out of the house tomorrow.”

His eyes snapped open and he released a large amount of breath he hadn’t known he had been holding as he gasped out, “What?”

Daiki scratched his head and grinned at him so widely and awkwardly, and Tetsuya felt a painful pang of recognition at how familiar that expression was. How many times had he seen it on him whenever he made a mistake, or failed to listen to game strategies, or asked Tetsuya for favours?

(Too many times, Tetsuya thought. Enough to make it sting so much, seeing it for the first time in months and months and months.)

“Could we… Like, could you maybe lend me some money? I think I spent it all on the burgers earlier. I swear, I thought I had enough money! I know my wallet had enough in it earlier today, just… Well, maybe it was the magazines I bought before I went back to my apartment, oh shit, god, Tetsu, I’m really sorry but please I prom—why are you laughing?”

Tetsuya stared at Daiki as he laughed and tried to manage a few words between each breath. “You— you’re such an idiot—”

Through his small eyes, Tetsuya saw Daiki looking mildly offended. “Yeah, you go call me names, s’not like I’m not used to them yet.”

“But it’s true.” Tetsuya wiped his eyes. It took him a few more minutes to calm himself and stop the laughter while Daiki contented himself with looking embarrassed and annoyed and a little hurt. Tetsuya couldn’t control his mirth, but if only Daiki knew that Tetsuya also thought himself an idiot for the absurd thoughts that briefly crossed his mind…

“You’re such an idiot,” Tetsuya said softly, looking down at his feet, marvelling at how thick Daiki could often get, but even more at how stupidly hopeful he could sometimes be.

“Thanks,” Daiki grumbled from beside him. “S’not like I don’t get reminded enough by Satsuki and Imayoshi-san.” He huffed like an angry puppy beside Tetsuya, pouting far too adorably to make Tetsuya a little shift about his ability to remain stony-faced.

Tetsuya just stared at his feet some more. “…Really an idiot,” he whispered to himself before turning to Daiki (who was squeaking in protest) and saying, “Of course I’ll lend you some money.”

Daiki visibly brightened, all previous complaints forgotten. He really was such a simple kid most of the time. “Really? Thanks Tetsu! I owe you one!”

They lapsed into a hush, but this one was different – it was happier, much lighter than before, more reminiscent of those days when they’d just find no reason to do anything than just be beside each other. Tetsuya resumed staring at his feet, humming every once in a while, looking at Daiki through the reflections in the glass in front of him and seeing Daiki look at him for seconds at a time. It was silly. It felt silly, like something out of a fan fiction written by an amateur fan girl the likes of those that Satsuki used to force him to read during middle school, and he wasn’t even annoyed that it all felt silly. He was happy. Quite giddy, actually. This same-old brand-new Daiki was making him happy.

It was short-lived.

“Well, I… Actually, I think I owe you a goddamn lot.”

Tetsuya’s smile faded slowly as he felt Daiki’s composure change into something less welcome. The warm atmosphere of contentedness that had embraced them evanesced as quickly as it came, and as he looked at Daiki’s face, he saw that a brooding, grim look had taken the place of the light, innocent expression he wore mere minutes ago. His heartbeat quickened, and he steeled himself against whatever Daiki could possibly unleash upon him.

And like always, Daiki knew just what not to say.

“I’m… I’m sorry, Tetsu.”

Tetsuya did not know what to say to that.

(Or maybe he did know, only he did not want to say it.)

    The train rattled on in silence for the next five minutes, and the next ten minutes after that which had been spent walking was an extremely awkward episode full of failed attempts to re-establish conversation and numerous questions answered by one-liners. It was quickly becoming the longest half-hour Tetsuya had ever had the misfortune to experience.

Tetsuya’s house was their first stop as it was the one closest to the station, and Tetsuya could not honestly be more thankful for it.

“Please wait here while I go get money,” he told Daiki as he reached into his pockets for his keys. Daiki just murmured a reply that sounded like “Yeah, okay, sure”.

Tetsuya entered his empty house; the lights were out, and his parents were away on another trip, so the temperature inside was a lot colder even with the thermostat on. He leaned against the door and breathed, because it was stifling outside with Daiki and his apologies, and the heavy air around them, and the unsaid words that hung in between, but the damp air did not make breathing any easier. He had lied to Daiki; he had enough money in his wallet, he didn’t actually need to go get anything, it was just that he just needed to get away and breathe, and think of something to say to Daiki—but how? How could you tell someone that you couldn’t accept their apology because you had already forgiven them long before they even bothered to say sorry? And with someone like Daiki, Tetsuya wasn’t so sure he could make him understand clear enough without having to say the very words he had been skirting around and trying to get away from since middle school. Daiki would ask a lot of questions, demand lots of information, ask why after why after why, and what could Tetsuya say to that? “Shut up, I love you, you don’t need to say sorry”?

Hah, yeah, like that’ll do him any good.

So what now?

(Tetsuya knows what now: he could lie and accept Daiki’s apology, give him the money, and watch him walk away again, like he had done so many times in the past, like he was so used to seeing by then. He would let another chance pass; surely it wouldn’t mean much anymore, wouldn’t feel as difficult as it always did time and time before, right? Right.)

(And surely he would be lying to himself again.)

Tetsuya collected himself, took out a wad of money from his wallet, opened the door, and for the second time that night Daiki had an arm up and aimed at him. “Aomine-kun? What were you doing?”

Daiki looked abashed. “I-I was gonna knock, you were taking too long, I thought something happened.”

“Oh.” Tetsuya looked at him a second longer than necessary before handing him the money. “Here you go, Aomine-kun.”

Daiki took one look at the money and hesitated, but ended up taking it anyway. He fists it and sighs, and they stand in the doorway for another full minute, just standing there, doing nothing but stare at each other and wait.

“You, uh… You alone?” Tetsuya wanted to laugh at how hopeful Daiki’s voice sounded, but for some unknown reason, he found he couldn’t really make a sound. He only nodded once, and Daiki nodded back, and it was all a really weird nodding exchange which would have been funny on any other day that wasn’t then. “Oh, okay then, so… Uh… Yeah.”

(Tetsuya wasn’t going to pretend that he didn’t realise they were alone, and that it was quiet but for the beat of his noisy heart, and that it was a situation for which he didn’t know the possibilities. He hadn’t counted on Daiki taking him home, or standing in the doorway for too long—)

Tetsuya lifted his eyes up to meet Daiki’s, and was alarmed at the storm in them. Daiki’s eyes, which were more expressive than anything Daiki ever said or did, were livid, looking left and right and centre, unable to stay in focus. He had known Daiki long enough to recognise the multitude of expressions in those dark eyes: the fear, the worry, the uncertainty, and worse of all, the confusion; it was then that Tetsuya noticed that Daiki was shaking. It was probably from the cold, and if Tetsuya permitted himself to more honest about it, he would say it was from nerves, but whatever it was, it needed to stop. Tetsuya wanted it to stop, but did not know how to.

Except maybe if he—

Well, their night out had been full of tiring encounters and odd moments. He was already tired enough as it was, despite the moment’s tension. Each passing second was sapping him of even more strength, and gods be damned if he were to play tomorrow mentally and emotionally emptied. So he did the next best idea that came into mind. “Do you—” Tetsuya knew it was a bad idea, but what the hell, might as well go down having swung. “Do you want to come in?”

Daiki went rigid, and he finally looked at Tetsuya with steadier eyes. They were still a little turbulent, but Tetsuya could see relief in them, as if Daiki had been afraid of him not saying a word, which hurt because given his way Tetsuya would really not have spoken. (There were times when his familiarity gave Tetsuya more pain than the nonchalant way Daiki used to treat him with.) They stood there and Tetsuya didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what Daiki wanted to say, and it was all such a vague moment that for a split second he was under the impression that he was dreaming.

Evidently it was turning into a nightmare real quick when Daiki spoke again. His faint voice and the sincerity in his words completely and utterly disarmed Tetsuya. “Tetsu, I’m sorry.”

Tetsuya felt his limbs go weak as Daiki stared, eyes too bright; he held Tetsuya’s gaze until finally he leaned down and brought their foreheads together. Daiki’s eyes were closed and his breathing was even, but Tetsuya’s were wide open and he could feel both his heart and lungs betraying him as the seconds ticked by. He couldn’t think. There was nothing to think, save for Daiki and the words he was saying, words that clawed at Tetsuya’s heart with every utterance.

“I’m sorry, Tetsu,” Daiki breathed out again, much quieter that Tetsuya had to strain his ears to catch them. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“No, don’t, please stop apologising, Aomine-kun—”

“I was an idiot, I’m sorry, I was an asshole and there is no excuse for it ever—”

“Aomine-kun—”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

He wasn’t even crying. Daiki wasn’t crying, Daiki wasn’t shaking like he had been before. He was just still as a statue, hands limp in his sides and eyes shut so tight, mumbling his sorry over and over again like a mantra that had been said so many times before, or a prayer said so often it had begun losing its power. “Tetsu,” he whispered after each sorry, and the sound of it makes Tetsuya want to scream and wrap Daiki in his embrace and try to shield him from whatever it was that caused such mayhem in his heart and mind… If only he could.

“Daiki,” Tetsuya finally said, loud and clear. It was the first time he used Daiki’s first name, and it burned Tetsuya’s tongue. “Stop it.”

Daiki looked like he was about to cry. “Tetsu, I’m so sorry…”

And again for the first time ever, Tetsuya brought a hand to Daiki face and cupped his cheeks, the way Tetsuya had wished to do for so long. The circumstances were so wrong, but it was the least he could do to calm Daiki. Daiki turned to his hand and burrowed his face into his palm, mumbling his apologies that came out as short bursts of wind instead of actual words, and Tetsuya couldn’t say anything at all.

Because really, what do you say? Tetsuya is at a loss for words, the way he always was when it came to Daiki, and all he managed to say was, “We’re okay, Daiki.”

Daiki was soundless for such a long time, but Tetsuya waited, and said it over and over and over again: we’re okay, we’re okay, we’re okay…

“We’re okay,” Daiki repeated after him. He leaned down and again their foreheads touched, and Tetsuya closed his eyes, revelling in the feeling of Daiki’s warm skin and breath. Daiki’s hand reached up and pressed Tetsuya’s to his face, the other reaching up Tetsuya’s arm and holding his wrist so tightly it almost hurt.

(Almost hurt.)

“We’re okay,” Tetsuya said again, because there was nothing more to say and it was the best he could do. “We’re okay, Daiki.”

“We’re okay,” Daiki mumbled again.

“Yes, we’re okay. We always have been.”

Daiki took a steadying breath, long and deep, and he shuddered as he regained self-control. He rested his chin on Tetsuya’s head and kept the hand to his face. Daiki looked positively angelic when he looked at Tetsuya again, after a few loud heartbeats, like a lost child seeking assurance, and his eyes shone as he asked, “We’re really okay?”

Tetsuya smiled. “Yes, Daiki, we really are.”

(It was almost all too cruel, because that night had to give way to the despair of the morning’s battle against a seemingly-unbeatable foe. Akashi was not forgiving. Seirin was not okay. Tetsuya could not remember anything but the fear and the hopelessness, and almost forgot the will to not give up.)

The bar was dimly lit, the place strangely quiet for a Friday night, and the thumping of some new hit music station was blaring from all around him. Frankly it made his head hurt, and apparently trying to drown out the sound with whiskey didn't quite make it better. That and the need to drink from stress that he still didn't have a present or well, anything, for Tetsu to give to him on Valentine's Day.

Which is what brought him to the point of desperation, and calling Kagami here, much to his disliking.

"Why the hell did you drag me all the way here if you're just gonna mutter and drink to yourself the whole night, idiot," Kagami said, shaking his head as he took a swig of his own drink, gulping it down in an impressive feat.

"Well!" Aomine stammered back, slamming his empty glass down. "What the hell else was I supposed to do?! I'M GIFTLESS!! Tetsu already gave me a hard time about it last year when I gave him a teddy bear…thing, and some store bought chocolates..."

Kagami stared at him incredulously, his jaw hanging open just slightly.

"You bought your boyfriend of seven years.... store bought chocolate? I knew you were stupid, but I didn't think you were that stupid." Kagami took it upon himself to laugh a bit at Aomine, his laughter building as Aomine just narrowed his eyes at him more. "It's pretty incredible Kuroko's even been able to put up with you this long."

"Shut up," Aomine mumbled down, swirling the empty glass.

The bartender came over, filling his glass once more, and couldn't help himself despite their conversation.

Kagami looked up from the rim of his own glass, a smirk on his lips.

"It is pretty amusing, isn't it Tatsuya?" He said, nodding to his childhood friend.

The raven haired man stifled his laugh from behind his hand as he replaced the alcohol back on the shelf.

"It is...quite amusing, Taiga. But you can't laugh, now can you? You've come running to me for the last couple years if I do remember correctly about what to do for Momoi-san..."

He blushed bright red in response, bowing his head to hide from the two men besides him.

"T-That's beside the point!!! Satsuki... is particular about stuff! That's all!" Kagami mumbled out, his words barely audible amidst the music and the point that he was muffling his mouth with his arm to hide his creeping blush.

It was Aomine's turn to laugh now, turning into a full bellied guffaw, clutching his stomach for support.

"And you call me the idiot?! Look who doesn't even know what to get his wife. Pfft even I know what Satsuki likes."

"Yeah?!" Kagami shot up, pointing a finger in his face. "And what exactly does she like?!"

Aomine turned silent, tilting his head to gaze up at the ceiling while he thought. He closed his eyes, concentrating hard. He sat like this for a few moments before the ideas came to him.

"She likes basketball stuff, duh."

Even Himuro stopped what he was doing at this point, and put the glass he had been cleaning down. Both Kagami and Himuro looked at him with unamused expressions.

"Uh, that's what you like, stupid," Kagami said, staring at him un-amused.

"Huh, she likes Basketball stuff too!" Aomine defended, scratching the back of his head. "And uh.......girly stuff?"

"Like...?" He interjected, signaling his hand for Aomine to continue on.

"Like hell I know!" Aomine snapped, slapping the top of the bar. "I don't know anything about girly shit!"

Kagami continued to slam his forehead down on the bar table a multitude of times.

Himuro merely patted his friend's head in consultation, his unsaid words for cheering Kagami on to continue even in the face of Aomine's stupidity.

"And so we're back to square one..." he muttered into the wood, banging his head once more just for good measure.

Aomine leaned back in his chair, staring at the dance floor from an upside down view, watching as the strobe lights flickered in a multitude of colors across his eyes.

An idea struck him once more, causing him to slam back forward, hitting Kagami forcefully.

"Um, OW, what the hell did you do that for?" Kagami replied ruefully, getting up from his resting spot on the bar to rub the sore spot.

"I got an idea. OKAY listen to this - it's great really."

Kagami prepared himself for the worst, and Himuro simply went back to the other side of the bar, waiting on the other customers.

"What if we both propose to 'em AND GET THIS ... with flowers, or roses, whatever they sell for it.," Aomine looked so enthusiastic about the idea, he almost felt bad about crushing the bad news he had so conveniently forgotten. Almost.

"Aomine I've already been married to Satsuki for like, 5 years now."

The realization dawned on him, and Aomine sunk back down in his barstool, swinging his legs uselessly back and forth.

"Ah, right. Forgot."

"How could you forget you were the best ma-" Kagami stopped mid-sentence, remembering that it was no use arguing with him, it was pointless. He clenched the bridge of his nose, rubbing it to decrease the migraine that was spreading between his eyes. "How about next idea?"

"Alright fine, well /I'LL PROPOSE TO TETSU/. And uh.. I don't know maybe get Satsuki a uh.. cookbook or something. She needs that," Aomine couldn't help but to snicker at his own little joke, already imagining the way the apocalypse would begin in Kagami and Satsuki's kitchen if she were even to attempt one of the recipes.

Kagami was so close to slugging Aomine with his fist, but he would rather the night go without an argument.

"Alright, fine I get it you're the least romantic person on this earth."

"That's not true!" Aomine pointed out. "There was this one time, Tetsu's birthday where I totally made the bed all up and washed Nigou, and then lined the hallway with roses, and then we had the most AMAZING Sex that ni-"

"OH MY GOD. I do not want to hear about you and Kuroko's love life, I don't need details, god." Now he had the most horrified and disgusted look on his face as he had been assaulted with the mental imagery he never really wanted to have in the first place.

Finally, it was Kagami's turn to get excited as an idea popped into his head.

"Ah, I GOT IT."

"I'm sure its really fucking pathetic."

"SHUT UP," Kagami growled, folding his arms across his chest. "It's better than yours anyways. Proposing to Tetsu after he's waited years for you to get the ball to do it."

"And what exactly is YOUR idea?" Aomine snarled, palming the ring in his jean pocket, moving it around just so.

"Satsuki really likes this necklace we saw at the mall the other day, so I guess I'll just get her that. And flowers..? I guess?"

Aomine crossed his arms as well, glaring over at Kagami.

"Tetsu is totally going to enjoy my gift so much better than Satsuki."

"Hah?! Of course not, Satsuki really wanted that necklace I'll bet she'll be just ECSTATIC. Kuroko's probably going to hit you for finally just doing it."

"WILL NOT," Aomine argued, rocking his chair back and forth angrily.

"WE'LL SEE COME THE DAY," Kagami snapped, getting up from his bar, and leaving the money for his drinks.

Kagami then stormed out of the bar, hefting his coat over his shoulder as he disappeared out of sight.

Scrambling around in his own pocket, he gathered the money together for his drink, and placed it down on the table as well.

If there was anything Aomine had to do, was that he was going to show Kagami wrong, and that Tetsu was DEFINITELY going to enjoy his gift more than Satsuki's. Why the hell wouldn't Tetsu be happy?

He threw his own coat on as well, swallowing a hard lump in his throat.

Well... he hoped he accepted it anyway..

 When the final day arrived, it turned out that neither of them had anything to worry about.

Aomine had gotten down on one knee, his face elated and full of love as he presented the tiny box to Tetsu, the gold band glittering under the starlight as he proposed out in the field that they always passed by.

Kuroko had of course, said yes, his secret smile that he only showed Aomine brightening up his face, his eyes shining with the same light as that of the stars above them.

Later that night they merely cuddled together, Kuroko observing the ring from his finger on more than one occasion (specifically when he thought Aomine wasn't watching), a warm smile appearing every time.

Even if he had thought of it last minute, and even if he was planning on doing it sometime soon, he was glad he chose this moment. And wondered why again he had waited so long to do it.

It also turned out that the next morning, Satsuki had heard the news sat an incredibly lightning speed record, the phone ringing throughout their house constantly with her begging for more details from Tetsu. How it had happened, blah blah all that kind of talk.

She even drove herself over, beckoning Tetsu to sit at the couch with her as they gossiped what their lovers had done for them the previous evening, laughing silently to themselves at all the cute awkward moments they had gone through, and silly moments that had made them smile and realize they loved them oh so much.

On Aomine’s case however, he had gone to Kagami smugly, hands on his hips in defeat.

“I told you Tetsu would be happier.”

Kagami only narrowed his eyes, poking a finger into Aomine’s chest.

“You only say that because you didn’t see the way Satsuki just LOVED her necklace. It definitely out beat yours.”

Suffice to say, they argued for the next several hours while they counterparts gushed about them until the night was over.

And even after the argument, with Tetsu giving him a loving kiss on his forehead as he prepared for sleep, Aomine smirked to himself that night, proud of his achievement.