#;ahoasks

“Hah?” he says, pausing mid-phone call in slight confusion. “How the hell would I know?!”

“Is this a trick question? I bet he’s paying you to do this.”

“You’re tryin’ to get me into trouble. It’s not like I’ve looked at his ass. Or touched it. Definitely never touched it. Nope.”

“It’s probably over-inflated. Like his ego. Full of air; that’s why it’s all round and--”

The phone suddenly blares, Kise’s voice yapping so loudly that Aomine has to hold the damn thing away from his ear.

“My ass is not over-inflated, stupid Aominecchi! Stop comparing it to my ego or last night will be the last night you’ll get anywhere near it!”

“Oh yeah? Huh.”

“Let me just file that under ‘shit I’ve heard a million times’.”

“Now, I ain’t sayin’ he’s mine either, but if he were… I don’t fucking share. Thing is, I don’t own his ass. That shit’s expensive as hell. In any case, he can come and go if he wants.”

“What the hell do I care about his stupid magazine?”

“It’s not like I care that he parades around half naked for all those broads to go batshit crazy over. Psh.”

“Now, if that were a Mai-chan magazine…”

“What the hell? That idiot’s always saying embarrassing things,” Aomine scoffs and palms his nape, the heat igniting there despite his attempt at nonchalance. “All this business about ‘sun and stars’. Psh.”

“He ‘loves’ a bunch of shit; his clothes, his hair, his stupid fangirls, Tetsu, his mirror.” He snorts at the latter and rolls his eyes. “You know he kept smiling like a dumbass at the girl that sold me my last pair of Jordans?” Abruptly, he pauses. “Not that I was jealous or anything,” he says, eyes quickly darting to the side. ”I got a pretty good discount, but still, he–” 

And then it dawns on him. 

The shoes.

Stupid Kise…

“Eh? What’s with the embarrassing questions?” he asks, scoffing as he rubs the back of his head. It would be a lie to say he’s never thought about the pros and cons of either, though he thought he’d be safer if he never mentions it out loud. But now someone else has opened the can of worms…

“Mai-chan, of course. She’s got a nice rack, that smile that lights up the fucking room,” he drawls, slowly losing himself to his own thoughts. “It’s so bright sometimes that it hurts, you know? Same with the eyes; they kinda look like liquid gold. Sometimes it reminds me of the stupid sun, kinda like his hair—”

“—her hair! I meant, her hair! Shit…”

“Hah? What kind of a question is that? Last thing on my mind right now,” he says, turning his face to the side. He feels the telltale burn in his cheeks, feels the warmth creep up his nape, and he clamps a hand there to quell the sensation. 

“But maybe when I’m older, I dunno. Maybe if Kise sprouted some boobs, I might consider it some more.”

Just then, Kise’s voice sounds over the phone Aomine has forgotten he still has clutched in his hand. 

“Baka Aominecchi! Stop talking about me with boobs! I told you I wasn’t going to walk around with balls under my shirt, idiot!”