#knbfics

↪ This man embodies the imagery of a hopeless romantic who's unexpectedly took a liking with the quiet and shy student. True to the eyes of any outsider, the aura he possessed is nothing but that of an alpha—where everyone either wanted him, hated him, or wanted to be like him.

↪ Of course, the first option is always made clear on his end whenever his presence graced the halls of your campus. With him being one of the most loved athletes of your school, you knew what came along with his status, it was inevitable. He was meant to be with the big crowd, in fact, everywhere he went—the crowd goes.

↪ But who knew that all it took was one course requirement for you to be paired up with the big shot athlete that is him, for him to have his eyes on you?

It was the second month of your second semester, which meant that it had been exaclty five months since your interaction with him. Your memory of that class seemed to be a blur, only remembering the fact that your metaphysics professor decided to pair you up with him because he thought that it would be a good idea to spice things up in his class.

You didn't complain nor protest at the idea, however it was not in your list to be paired up with him. In fact, you initially planned on working on the final paper alone, but your plans changed the minute you took sight of the red headed man as he introduced himself to you. Soon enough, the last thing you could remember was him giving you a fist bump and thanking you for your help in said class, and neither of you crossed paths again. Just as you expected, everything panned out in history.

"Uhm, hi?" you looked at the standing figure in front of you. It was none other than Kagami, whom you've not seen in the last few months and the person you least expected to be right in front of you. More questions piled up in your thoughts as you watch him pull out what looked like tickets and placed it near you. "Para saan 'to?" (What is this for?) you asked.

Kagami rotates the wooden chair backwards to take his seat in front of you, not minding the fact that the ruckus in your college's library was because of him. Once he was situated in his spot, he pulled sent a curt nod towards the tickets and spoke, "For the game."

"I know that these are tickets for this week's game, but what exactly does this have to do with me?" you scanned the tickets and asked as you took notice of how your voice seemed at edge, because why on earth would he give you these? It's not like you were friends, right?

"About that..." his voiced trailed off. As you looked straight at him, he caught your curious eyes and felt his breath hitch. "A-About that, uhm..." his ears were getting red, why is that? You asked yourself.

"N-Now I know we never talked about anything back at Sir Reginald's class, and we parted ways shortly after that final paper..." he started off, looking at his own hands.

"And I'm assuming that basketball's not your thing and it's been months since we last talked but..." he was fumbling on his own words at this point, leaving you to bite your lip in anticipation. "But...?" you urged him on. He noticed your small smile and huffed out a short breath.

"But I really regret n-not taking the opportunity to get to know you and tell you about myself and now I just... I don't want to miss my chance again."

You looked at the tickets' details—it was your school against another top university. You chuckled and looked at him, "Is this your way of getting me to know about your insanely incredible skills at basketball?"

The redness of his cheeks and ears were back upon hearing your question, "I promise to make every score count so you going won't be a waste of time," he mumbled which got you laughing.

"I'll watch," you said and looked at him with a smile, "But only if you'll let me talk about any topic over burgers after the game."

He returned your smile with one of his own, the familiar smile from months ago, "Yes please."

“Are you hungry Kouki?” Seijuro asks, lightly squeezing his hand.

“Y-Yeah!” Gods how he hated the way his voice faltered. It never failed to make him sound weak and nervous.

Seijuro didn’t seem to mind. Kouki was sure he had just gotten used to it.

“I’m afraid I couldn’t book any earlier buses without you leaving for the train at two in the morning.” He smiles. “But there is something I want to show you.”

Seijuro squeezes his hand reassuringly as he leads Kouki away from the people and the paved paths along the grassy tops of the sand dunes. There are only a few houses here, spaced out behind the dunes and very clearly fenced off. Some even have boat ramps leading straight down into the water.

Seijuro’s house is the first on the block. He lets go off Kouki’s hand for a moment to unlatch the white wooden gate. The door swings open with barely a creak to the immaculately manicured green lawn beyond and the elegant white stone path that ran through it. The house itself was impressively sleek and modern in design with an unrivalled view over the beach.

Seijuro enters a five digit code on the inconspicuous keypad by the glass doors and slides both the glass fronted doors open.

“Wow.” Kouki can’t help but say. Everything was so shiny and black and new looking. The TV alone took up most of the wall and the seats were (no doubt imported) black leather. The floor looked like some exotic hardwood.

“It’s actually more modern than my house. Father finds it impresses guests; after all that’s the reason to own a beach house.”

Seijuro chuckles and unclips Vince’s leash. Casually the dog strolls into the room and up the stairs. He walks into the kitchen.

“I managed to convince my father to let me take Vince instead of a servant so I’ll be preparing dinner.”

Kouki nervously lets his bag slip onto the hard wood floor and follows him into the kitchen. Everything there is sleek and black and shiny too. He has no idea what half of it is.

“You can cook.”

Seijuro smirks with an unashamed pride.

“I have learnt all kinds of skills; cooking is among the more useful. The caretaker was instructed to stock the fridge before they left so there’s sure to be ingredients. ”

He turns his bright red eyes on Kouki.

“Would you like to help? We’ll be done faster with two sets of hands.”

“Oh…Um, I failed Home Economics…” Kouki starts to apologize with a downwards drop of his shoulders.

“Can I trust you to hold a knife without removing a finger?” Seijuro asks with that faint trace of a smile that meant he was making a joke as he sets some ingredients on the bench. “Then you can chop vegetables for the salad.”

“Right.”

Seijuro slides a chopping board in front of him with a silver handled knife balanced on top and a punnet of tiny tomatoes. They almost look like little hearts.

“Strawberry tomatoes. They’re good roasted but just as nice fresh. Feel free to try one. They’re sweet.” Seijuro says he bends down.

He deftly pulls out a large skillet and sets it on the stove top. Kouki tries to pretend he wasn’t looking at the red-head’s ass by picking up a tomato and trying it.

The heart-shaped fruit is about the size of a cherry and pops in his mouth when he bites down. It really is sweet. He swallows easily.

“So do I chop them in half?” He hesitantly asks.

Seijuro is preparing a couple of fresh fish fillets. He nods and continues coating the fish with flour.

Kouki picks up the knife and makes a swift, decisive slice. Both heart shaped halves slip apart.. The juice glistens.

“Ah, not like that.” Seijuro’s hand touches his forearm.

Kouki jumps. Seijuro moves like a ghost. The red-head leans in close behind him and his breath tickles the air on the back of Kouki’s neck.

O-O.k. he is really close!

Seijuro’s hand slides over his arm and closes over his hand. With care he adjusts Kouki’s grip on the knife.

“You should hold it like this. It’s a cleaner cut.”

His hands trail up Kouki’s arms to his shoulders. He sets them square, ghosting a hand up the small of his back to get him to stand up straight. Kouki jolts at the touch as Seijuro’s hand slips up his shoulders.

“See isn’t that better?” Seijuro says right by his ear and leans in closer.

Kouki swallows and the knife drops down. The tomato cuts cleanly in half with little effort.

Akashi moves back to lay the fish in the pan and Kouki breathes out. He keeps his body in the position as he chops up the ingredients Seijuro gives him. It seems like no time at all before the bowl is full and Seijuro replaces the knife with an oversized spoon for tossing the salad.

With an elegant twist of his wrist he slips the fish onto the waiting bed of wild rice and turns off the stove. He picks up both plates with ease and gestures for Kouki to pick up the bowl and follow him.

Kouki nervously follows him back into the lounge and out the glass doors.

Beyond is a balcony overlooking the ocean. In the time they’ve been cooking the sun has started to set and the formerly sparkling blue ocean is now a sea of gold and flaming oranges.

The sky itself is gold and bruised purple with pale pink clouds. The air is still warm and there are cicada’s chirping nearby. The only other sounds are the waves on the shoreline and the occasional call of a sea bird.

There is a wooden table on the balcony overlooking the ocean. It has already been set with cutlery and a pitcher of water with lemon slices, shielded from the light by a spreading umbrella.

“I’ve wanted to watch the sunset with you for a while.” Seijuro says softly.

He lays down the plates and directs Kouki to sit on a chair beside him. The sunset is beautiful and the food laid out in front of him looks like a restaurant meal.

Seijuro sits in the set next to him and pours water into his glass. The sun slips behind the ocean, leaving behind the bright glow with none of the glare as Kouki eats.

It isn’t long before Vince pads out onto the balcony to join them. The dog sits there with his tail slowly wagging and looks up at them with round eyes until Seijuro goes and orders him to leave, pouring more kibble into the dog's bowl before he rejoins the table.

After dinner is finished Seijuro produces some kind of fruit tart with berries and cream. The red-head insists on feeding him the first strawberry by hand. He smiled as he wiped a streak of cream off Kouki’s cheek.

The vibrant gold of the sunset fades into a sedate blue, marked with fading yellow fringes. The sky above is a deep indigo color and the white crescent of the moon is clearly visible.

The entirety of dinner has been in silence. Kouki can’t help but feel like Seijuro has been waiting for him to say something or do something. Every time he opened his mouth to try and speak his tongue had felt like rubber and he’d just put food in it instead.

Seijuro doesn’t stop looking at him until the food is all gone.

Kouki swallows drily. There is nothing left but the tiniest crumbs on his plate and the silence.

“Thank you for the meal.” He says formally.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Seijuro says with a smile and the pause draws out.

Seijuro is looking straight at him.

“I guess I’ll take my plate back to the kitchen…” Kouki hesitantly says and picks it up.

“Right…” Seijuro’s voice gives nothing away as he picks up the rest of the dishes and helps Kouki carry them inside and lay them on the bench.

He seems…disappointed somehow but Kouki isn’t sure what he should be doing. He is starting to feel a little panicked.

With care he puts down his plates on the bench and fakes a smile.

“So I guess it’s time for bed?” He says and nearly bites his tongue when Seijuro moves towards him.

His red eyes go dark and he pins Kouki up against the slick black refrigerator door.

“I am trying to seduce you. Don’t ignore me!” He says bluntly.

He leans in and presses his lips softly against Kouki’s. When the brunette doesn’t make any attempt to push him back or pull away he slips his tongue into Kouki’s mouth.

Kouki’s eyes widen.

He is suddenly struck by the feeling that it had been months since Seijuro kissed him like that in the movie theater. He kisses back, sloppily, but it feels like something he’s been waiting to do since he arrived.

Seijuro responds to Kouki’s eagerness by pressing their bodies closer together. He is a much better kisser than Kouki is and each clumsy swipe of the brunette’s tongue is met with a more experienced curl that makes his stomach burn.

Seijuro’s hands are in his hair, cupping his cheek, running down his chest and up his shirt…

A sharp tingle of sensation runs through his body as Seijuro’s fingers run over his nipple. Kouki yelps into the kiss and pulls away.

There is a glisten of saliva on Seijuro’s lips. Kouki looks away, his cheeks burning bright red.

“You can just say.” He says softly.

Already the fire in Kouki’s stomach is turning to ice.

Seijuro looks straight at him and the fading sunset light his eyes are so cold they look the maroon of old blood.

“It’s o.k. if you don’t feel the same way about me or we’re going too fast. Just talk to me.” Seijuro’s voice is soft and comforting but with a sadness under the words.

The unexpected melancholy of tone is enough to snap Kouki out of his deep embarrassment. His voice comes out louder than he was intending.

Talking with him every day online was entertaining but now they were going to meet again there was a buzz of fear lurking inside him that he would somehow embarrass himself.

Sometimes Kouki wished he could switch his brain off. He was going to spend a weekend with his boyfriend after not seeing him in so long. He should be happy, not worrying about every little thing that could possibly go wrong.

Kouki finds he is drumming his fingers on the top of his suitcase apprehensively and stops himself.

If nothing else Seijuro would be disappointed in him for worrying and he hated disappointing Seijuro.

It wasn’t that he was scared of him. Despite the aura of command he seemed to wear like a cloak Kouki found he felt most upset when he didn’t say a thing because Seijuro had expected better of him and he had let him down.

That was the thing he was afraid of. That he’d do something so incredibly bone-headed that Seijuro would no longer see what made him like Kouki in the first place.

Sometimes Kouki wished he had more self-confidence. It seems everyone he knew was talented at something, even Kuroko had his own special talent. He didn’t have anything special about him. Even if Seijuro said he didn’t mind it still worried him.

There was another thing was worrying him too. It had been months since they started dating and now they were going to spend the night together. His fingers brush briefly over his lips.

Kouki was a teenage boy with an internet connection; he had read quite an amount of porn and he was worrying.

If he put it far out of his mind he could ignore the fact that Seijuro was in every way better than him. Now what he was uncomfortably fixated on was the fact that it wasn’t just that he’d never had a boyfriend.

He’d never had sex.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to; his relationships just never gone long enough that he would be comfortable asking. Besides from what he had read sex looked like it hurt. At least for the first time.

Akashi had dates, Akashi had dated plenty of people before and he was very attractive. Of course he had…experience in that as well.

What if he wanted to…do things?

Furihata burrows his face in his bag to hide the fact he is starting to blush. Even thinking about it is weird.

The lurch of the bus stopping forces him to look up. He’s here.

Normally he would be worrying about the price of getting to a whole other part of the country but he’d started to get used to Akashi paying for transport. It made the fact that he lived in Kyoto a bit easier.

It really is warm. Cicadas are chirping outside, the brown bodied insects stirring up a din with their wings as they clung to every available surface.

It’s a popular holiday destination after all, lots of people were getting off at the station and Kouki finds himself accidentally shunted to the side.

The tide of people parts around familiar red hair though, Seijuro stands out in the crowd like a beacon. His eyes are fixed on the bus and as he catches sight of Kouki he smiles.

As the sea of legs clears Kouki realizes why everyone was moving around him.

“Kouki, this is Vince.”

Seijuro bends down to scratch the Doberman behind its floppy ears. Its dark eyes focus intently on Kouki. The dog is nowhere near as cute as Nigou. It sits like a soldier. Defensively he clutches at his bag.

“Vince, this is Kouki.” Seijuro smiles and looks up at him. “Give me your hand.”

Kouki tentatively reaches out. Seijuro grabs his hand and holds it in front of the dog’s nose. He freezes as the animal opens its mouth, politely sniffs his fingers then gives his hand a little lick.

He squeaks and Seijuro can’t help but smile.

“Vince, friend.” He says in a stern voice and the dog wags its tail.

It doesn’t look like the Doberman’s he has seen in movies and he takes while to realize it’s because it has floppy ears and a long tail.

Akashi pats its head again, the intimidating figure of a dog seeming to relax now his master has introduced them.

“I didn’t know…Vince…would be joining us.” Kouki says nervously.

“My father wants me to keep safe and he’d pine if I was gone too long. The name is English, by the way, meaning Victor. It’s good to have a name that he doesn’t hear too often so he doesn’t get confused about when he’s being addressed.” Akashi explains as he cheerfully pats the dog.

“Vince, down.” He orders casually.

With the obedience of perfect training the dog drops to lie on the ground and Akashi scratches along his back.

“I didn’t know you had a pet.” Kouki says softly, kneeling down beside him.

The black-furred dog regally accepts his petting.

“When I was younger and more naïve than I’d like to admit I asked my father for a puppy. He’s a purebred.” Seijuro confesses and smiles.

Kouki smiles back and jumps in surprise as the dog licks at his fingers again.

“He likes you.” Seijuro says cheerfully.

“Right.” Kouki laughs briefly and returns to patting the dog.

It wasn’t what he was expecting but the black dog had a regal air about it, just like Seijuro did and just like Seijuro they weren’t as scary up close.

The dog seems to appreciate the attention. His tail wags back and forth.

Looking up from scratching the dog Kouki accidentally meets Seijuro eyes and has to force himself not to blush.

All of a sudden he is remembering their phone conversation from months ago. That’s right, next time they met in person he had promised to kiss him.

Did Seijuro remember? He couldn’t be sure but it this moment he is sure Seijuro does.

With his heart suddenly leaping into his throat he leans over and kisses Seijuro on the lips. The dog wonders why the patting has stopped and sits up, bumping into his chest and causing him to nearly bite his tongue.

Seijuro laughs, gives him and tender peck on the lips and stands.

“It’s not far to go to the house.” He raises his hand with the leash wrapped around it. “I figured I could walk Vince at the same time….”

It wasn't like he hasn't seen him half naked before, it was just the fact that a speedo is a lot more skimpy than his usual boxer briefs. Not to mention his skin was slick with water straight from the pool, dripping off him in the most sensual manner if that was even possible.

He had his brother and mentor to blame for this. Kagami was the last one to enter the pool due to him being half an hour late. It was fun with Alex and Tatsuya coming over the night before to stay up and watch the live stream of the basketball game in America. The fact that his preferred team won was worth getting only three hours of sleep but having coach Riko assign him extra drills back at school was making him regret it.

His swim trunks were under his basketball shorts so all he had to do was tug off his shirt and shimmy out of his pants before he stuffed all his things in a locker. The redhead was practically through the entrance to the pool when he spotted his blue haired rival and newly turned boyfriend.

Aomine was receiving a towel from Sakurai while he shook the last remaining drops of water from his navy hair. The scene moved in slow motion from there on out. All he could do was thickly swallow while his mahogany eyes took in the sight of him toweling his hair as water continued to drip down his body.

He watched rivulets of water run down the muscle defined brown skin of his arms, chest, abs, and legs. He wasn't going to lie to himself that he wanted a closer view of his crotch but got a better view when he turned to face Momoi. The muscles of his back and his ass were just as spectacular as the front.

Even though their builds were the same, he was pretty sure his body looked nothing like that. In fact, he was finally able to see how it made sense that Aomine was six pounds heavier than him even though he was only two centimeters taller. That extra weight was pure muscle put in all the right places and that was something Kagami couldn't complain about even if he tried.

This was actually the part where he realized he did indeed have a sickening attraction to Aomine and seeing him this unclothed all at once was too much for his heart and brain with the lack of sleep he got so he headed back for the locker room.

The tan boy was fighting to calm himself down while he reached into his locker. He at least wanted to make it look like he was doing something when someone walked in. Not the actual break down over coming to the reality that Aomine was just as hot half naked and wet as he was clothed and dry.

"What are you doing in here?"

Kagami nearly jumped, but managed to tone it down to a flinch when he heard the taller boy's voice. He took one more deep breath to calm his nerves before he closed the locker door and looked over at him. Luckily a towel was wrapped around his waist so it was just Aomine looking unbelievably good in a towel and not Aomine looking ridiculously good in a speedo.

"I forgot to put my phone away," he said, slinging his towel over his shoulder. "Why are you in here?"

"Your coach was complaining about you taking too long so Satsuki forced me to come get you. I told them you're stupid so you probably got lost," he mumbled, leaning on the locker across from him.

"Shut up! You're the stupid one, dumbass," he retorted, "Besides, Seirin has been here plenty of times, why did Touou decide to join us today?"

"I dunno, something about water resistance training with another team shows faster results," he mumbled while shaking the remaining water out of his ear.

“Water resistance training? Riko usually just makes us swim and do tons of leg exercises to the point we can barely get out of the pool.”

“Well today’s different. Satsuki got her hands on some pool basketball hoops. It looks like we’ll be swimming back and forth to see whose team can score the most.”

A grin tugged at his lips the moment the words pool and basketball hoop reached his ears. “This sounds like a piece of cake.”

“Oh yeah? Since when are you good at swimming when you’re barely good at basketball?” Aomine asked, pushing off the locker for them to be a breath away from each other.

His unique eyebrows instantly drew together at his boyfriend’s attempt to mess with him. Pushing each other’s buttons was that part of the relationship that’d never die. Not to mention it turned into great make out sessions.

“Tell that to my Winter Cup trophy. Plus, I guess you forgot the part where I know how to surf. Swimming in the ocean is a lot tougher than a pool, idiot.”

“Well, I was forced into swimming lessons when I was younger and I was and still am pretty damn good. Get ready to eat your words and make me dinner when we go to your place later,” he claimed, taking another step forward to close the distance between them for a peck on the lips.

“Like I’d let that happen,” Kagami mumbled, their lips still within reach of each others. “We’ll decide what the winner gets after whoever wins. I’d ask you to cook but I rather not die before I turn eighteen.”

His blue eyes rolled before he lightly pushed the redhead into the locker. “Let’s get this ass kicking over with,” he said while untying his towel.

He thickly swallowed, suddenly remembering why he bolted from the pool in the first place. The speedo definitely looked even better close up than it did far away. Except he had to keep his eyes on the prize. The one where he could gloat and prove Aomine wrong not the one literally within hands reach of him with a cat eat canary grin.

“If you’re wondering if I’m still pissed off, then yes I am,” he said, giving the taller boy a look over his shoulder.

Aomine sucked his teeth. “I told you I took swimming lessons when I was younger. Are you really that surprised by the outcome?”

Kagami pursed his lips before an aggravated sound spilled from his lips. “Yes! I thought I finally had something on you by being able to surf and swim pretty well. But then there comes Aomine fucking Daiki in his speedo still managing to beat me like he’s been professionally swimming his whole entire life.”

“I could’ve gone pro though. I still could if I want,” he mumbled from the bed, an arm slung over his eyes. "You should be blaming Tetsu instead. We all know his pool skills are weak and the light and shadow thing can't really work with a shadow floating face down in one spot."

The redhead glared as he made his way to the bed, shoving him slightly out the way to take a seat next to him. "I was hoping my swimming skills could make up for it. I'll win next time, you can count on it."

He smirked after sliding his arm down to his chest, a look of excitement hidden beneath his features. "We'll see about that. Until then, don't you wanna know what you owe me?"

He sighed, absolutely expecting the worst. "What is it this time? Make you lunches for a week? Carry bags for you and Satsuki while you shop? Going to Touou's basketball practice just so I can be your water boy?"

Aomine gave him a blank look for while till he shrugged. “I just want you to kiss me.”

“Really? You beat me at basketball in water for fucks sake and all you come up with is kissing?”

He quirked an eyebrow at his response. “Why does it sound like you’re complaining?”

“I’m not! I just become suspicious of you when you don’t go out of your way to make my losing more annoying than usual.”

“I thought about making you tell me about how good I looked in my speedo, but that’d only be fun for about two minutes max since you’re not good with words.” He said with a smile, turning on his side to prop his face against his hand.

“Narcissistic much? That’s honestly a waste and your vocabulary sucks just as much as mine bastard.” Kagami claimed, knowing damn well he hard a time keeping it together thanks to that speedo in the first place. Not to mention Aomine was lying next to him in just boxer briefs after their separate showers. That was torture in itself.

“I’m sure you have something to say about it. You were pretty quiet when you saw it, which is surprising since you’re pretty much loud about everything.”

Knowing full well that he was right, the redhead glared at him even harder. “Like earlier, let’s just get this over with.”

He lightly laughed. “I’m ready when you are.”

Kagami couldn't help but give him a light smile before gently pushing Aomine into the mattress. The younger boy gave him a questioning look until tan thighs were framing his waist, the redhead straddling him with a small look of affection.

"For the record, this probably isn't going to last long. I'm still pretty worn out from staying up last night with Alex and Tatsuya."

"Oh yeah, where is she by the way? I'm surprised she's not here knocking on the door every ten minutes asking if we need anything."

"She said she had a date tonight with some girl trainer. Apparently she's really flexible," he mumbled, a grossed out look crossing his features.

"If only I was invited," he laughed, even after a fist connected with his shoulder.

"I doubt you'd even know what to do with one girl let alone two."

"Hey! You're just as bad probably even worse."

Kagami sighed in frustration. "Are we really about to fight over who's better with girls when we're dating each other?"

"Good point," he said, shifting himself so his back was pressed against the headboard. "Just shut up and kiss me."

He playfully rolled his eyes before he leaned in, their noses brushing and Aomine's hands settling on his waist while his arms rested around his neck. The redhead was the one to seal their lips together first, knowing how much his boyfriend liked to test his lack of self control. But of course Aomine's self control was slim to none when it came to Kagami. Which was why the kiss went from simple slow smooches to open mouthed with rolling hips in under a couple of minutes.

With idle hands and a husky voice, Aomine was able to persuade the redhead to get his hand down his pants. He had him coming in under five minutes, his tongue and teeth ruthless against his tan neck with his grip nothing but gentle on his cock. Kagami was putty in his boyfriend's hands by this point, his orgasm using the last bit energy he managed to hold onto.

MOVING IN – (or, how Kise and Aomine cope with living together)

---

The first thought in most of their minds – and definitely in Taiga’s – when Aomine and Kise declared that they were going to move into an apartment together for university, was that they were definitely both going to die.

The jury seemed a little bit out on how, though.

Personally, Taiga was fond of the idea of them killing each other (he really couldn’t imagine living with either one of them without wanting to kill himself or them, and wasn’t entirely sure how they were going to be able to live with each other); Momoi seemed convinced that they would either starve or poison themselves (and no one except for Aomine had the balls to say that it was only her cooking that would kill them); Kuroko was ‘mildly concerned’ that their combined desire to perform household chores (might as well have been in negative numbers) would result in something falling on someone.

Still, the two of them refused to reconsider the idea for another year or two, and so it was that Taiga somehow found himself helping the both of them move into their apartment a few weeks before the beginning of their first semester of university.

“How much crap do you even have,” he complained at them. They looked up from where they were putting down their own boxes.

“These are just the necessities, Kagamicchi,” Kise said. He cut open one of the boxes to check what was inside it. “Except for Aominecchi. I seriously doubt your Mai-chan magazines are a necessity.”

“Shows what you know,” Aomine answered. “Come on, there’s still more boxes. And don’t give me that prissy shit about being tired, if we’re still going, you’re fine.”

Kise blew his cheeks out in a sigh but followed along after Aomine anyway.

---

Okay, so if he was entirely honest, Taiga’s main concern was not actually Aomine and Kise’s ability to survive living together.

Over the years they had somehow managed to forge some kind of strange and sometimes uncomfortable friendship. So he was. Friends. With them.

Being friends with Aomine and Kise over the past two odd years had meant being privy to a lot of their private life because they didn’t seem to believe in keeping a private life especially private from their friends or some strangers.

In addition, being Kuroko’s boyfriend meant that he’d been more involved than he liked in the aftermath of their fights.

Both of them needed time and space after they had a blow out. This was a typical pattern of their fights:

Kise would dramatically show up announcing they’d broken up, though confirmation with Aomine was always needed over the truth of this statement. Occasionally it was, but more often than not, Kise was being melodramatic because that was what he did. Kuroko would be stolen away by Kise because despite his claims otherwise, Kuroko cared very deeply for Kise.

Next, Aomine would show up. Depending on the severity of the fight, he might also steal Kuroko away; if it wasn’t so bad, then he would let Taiga come along, but if it was bad he’d usually only take Kuroko.

After calming down, however long it might take, the two of them would usually reconcile without outside influence. Barring that one first, scarring reconciliation made in Taiga’s apartment, intervening wasn’t often actually necessary, though Taiga couldn’t explain how the two idiots managed to talk things out without help.

Without their own places to go to get away from each other and cool down, he was a little bit worried that a big fight and actual break up was going to happen, and. Well. They were both usually really difficult when broken up.

Kuroko liked to say that seeing them sad made Taiga sad too because he was a nice person, but he didn’t like to believe those kinds of lies.

The fact that he knew both of their favourite foods and coincidentally felt like making them around the times that they had serious fights meant absolutely nothing, and Kuroko needed to keep his lying mouth shut.

As it turned out, he didn’t really have that much reason to worry.

It wasn’t because they didn’t fight. Unfortunately, he didn’t have to worry because whoever managed to get themselves locked out of the apartment was expected to come and stay with him.

He discovered this one afternoon when he came home to find Kise sitting at his doorstep trying to charm the old lady who lived downstairs from him into letting him inside.

Only fights with Aomine set him off his game so he couldn’t get people to do what he wanted them to, and as he got closer, he could see the usual evidence of a fight with Aomine; his eyes were red where he’d been rubbing them to try and prevent tears from spilling over.

(Kise always cried while arguing with Aomine. Fighting with him made him distressed, and even though he didn’t want to cry and hated it because it was embarrassing and made him feel pathetic, he always did.)

“Ah, Kagamicchi!” he called out when he noticed him. “Let me help you!”

Taiga sighed and tried to figure out if he had all the things he needed to make Kise’s favourites.

Kise made a half-hearted effort at taking one of the bags of groceries from his hand, but previous experience said he was never gentle enough with them, so Taiga didn’t let him take it.

He pouted. “Come on, Kagamicchi, I totally learned my lesson the third time I came home with broken eggs! I’m careful now, I promise! You can’t get your keys out, right? Let me help!”

“Kise, we both know you don’t want to carry the bags,” Taiga said. “It’s okay.” He put one lot of them down and dug his keys out of his pocket. After opening the door, and letting Kise hold it open for him so he could at least feel like he was being useful, he said, “Wait, it took you three trips to—nevermind. What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Aominecchi locked me out,” he muttered, and crossed his arms. He passed very well for a sulky child, rather than an almost-nineteen-year-old boy.

“...and you came here?”

He waved his arms. “Where else was I supposed to go?!”

“Anywhere else,” Taiga muttered, and put down the bags again to let them both into his apartment.

Kise bounded inside - how did he get locked out if the fight wasn’t bad enough to have him in a miserable mood? – and claimed his favourite spot on the couch.

Taiga tried not to remember that Aomine and Kise had had sex there. He tried not to remember it pretty much any time one of them was here. He was yet to be particularly successful.

“Did you talk with Kuroko yet?” he asked as he started putting the food away.

“Kurokocchi is busy today,” Kise whined. Taiga already knew Kuroko was busy, but usually that didn’t stop Kise from barging his way into whatever Kuroko was doing. “I just need somewhere to stay tonight, Kagamicchi. I’m sure Aominecchi will let me back in the apartment tomorrow. It was only a little fight.”

“If it was only a little fight,” Taiga countered, “why did you get kicked out?”

“Because Aominecchi is a meanie,” Kise whined. He leaned over the back of the couch and watched Taiga put the food away.

“As long as you’re out of my hair tomorrow, I don’t mind letting you stay without an explanation,” Taiga finally said. “You already know I have a spare room. But.” He grabbed one of his wooden spoons and pointed it at Kise’s face. “If you’re still here tomorrow night, I want an explanation.”

“Okay,” Kise agreed, and Taiga sighed.

“I’m going to start cooking in a moment,” he told him. “You’ll have to entertain yourself.”

Kise slumped over the couch. “Remind me to bring something over here to play with. Your apartment’s really boring, Kagamicchi.”

Taiga manfully resisted the urge to smack Kise with his wooden spoon, but he had to put it down on the bench to do so. To distract himself, he got his phone out of his pocket to text Kuroko and Aomine.

kise’s here please come over before i kill him is what he sent to Kuroko.

i don’t know or care what you fought about but thought you might want to know kise’s at my apartment and not dead in a ditch somewhere is what he sends to Aomine.

Kuroko’s response is quick, and also expected. I will see if I can make it around for a little while. In the mean time, please do not kill Kise-kun. I would not like to have to visit you in prison.

Aomine’s arrived later, when Taiga was in the middle of preparing the vegetables. He paused to check it.

k thanks is all it said, and Taiga rolled his eyes and got back to chopping.

---

INTERLUDE – (or, the shameless indulgence of someone’s exhibitionist kink)

---

The painful truth of the matter was that Taiga was accepted to university on the strength of his basketball ability rather than that of his schooling achievements. This was fine by him, but he still struggled with a lot of his classes.

Sometimes, when he and Kuroko started to get tired of studying at Taiga’s house, they would go for a change of scenery at the library nearby. It was usually quiet, and there was a Maji not far away.

Today, it wasn’t quite as quiet as usual.

They had settled at the table they usually used on the few occasions they came here, laid out their books and Kuroko had been quietly explaining something, when they heard a very familiar voice cry out.

“...Kuroko,” Taiga said slowly, “please tell me that wasn’t what I think it was.”

Kuroko had a very pained look on his face, and was already packing up his things.

“I’ll warn them to be a little quieter before we go,” was all he said.

“That is not the issue here!”

Kuroko stood, and Taiga realised that he hadn’t started packing up his things. He quickly started gathering them as Kuroko wandered towards where Kise’s voice had come from.

---

FOOD – (or, the strange eating habits of the Kise Ryouta in it’s natural habitat)

---

Kuroko’s phone was ringing.

“Leave it,” Taiga muttered against his neck. It had been a while since they’d had the time to indulge; training had been brutal, and classes a nightmare. This one, blessed free evening was something he wanted to take advantage of.

“What if it’s important?” Kuroko asked.

They both knew he was going to pick up the phone, and Taiga groaned and let Kuroko climb out of his lap.

“Good evening, Aomine-kun.”

Fucking Aomine.

Kuroko returned to settle himself back in Taiga’s lap, and then leaned back against him. Taiga curled his arms around him and nosed his neck impatiently.

“Tetsu, I think Kise’s possessed.”

Fucking. Aomine.

“What makes you think so?”

Taiga was about to ask why the fuck Kuroko was entertaining the idiot’s delusions, but Kuroko seemed to sense his irritated question and reached a hand up to put a finger against his lips.

Oh. He felt like being mean. Well, Taiga could get on board with that. Aomine deserved to be punished, calling about such dumb shit.

“He’s eating everything. I mean, everything. He never eats this much! He always complains about being on a diet but he’s sitting on the couch eating us out of house and home and he ate my donuts Tetsu.”

Taiga snorted softly.

“That does sound very unusual for Kise-kun.”

“He won’t even share with me. He always shares with me.”

“Maybe he is possessed.”

For a moment, Taiga wondered if maybe he needed to re-evaluate his expectations for Aomine’s intelligence, as there was a pause over the line. Kuroko didn’t seem too bothered, though...

“So you think so too? What do I do? How do I save him? I have to do an exo-thingy right? How do you do that? Do you think Midorima knows? Should I ask him?”

“You shouldn’t bother Midorima-kun. He’s very busy with his studies.”

“But Satsuki laughed when I called her!”

Taiga traced his fingers over Kuroko’s thighs. He was already tired of this. The two of them had had plans for this evening.

Kuroko covered the mike of his phone and kissed his cheek. “Alright, Kagami-kun.” He uncovered the phone. “What did Kise-kun say when you asked him why he was eating so much?”

“...I didn’t ask,” Aomine said. “I just tried to take some and he was really vicious! He bit my hand! Usually he just smacks it but he lets me take the food anyway.” Aomine paused. “What if he wants to eat me?!”

“Considering that Kise-kun is probably not possessed, I sincerely doubt it. You should just ask him why he’s eating so much, Aomine-kun. I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation.”

There was silence over the phone, and then:

“Screw you, Tetsu.”

The line went dead then.

Kuroko put his phone on the table and smiled at Taiga. “Should we perhaps move this somewhere else?”

---

DOMESTIC ROUTINES – (or, Aomine and Kise are inefficient but at least can still get things done)

---

Because Aomine and Kise had moved in relatively close to Taiga’s apartment, Kuroko had taken it upon himself to ensure that they were fed properly every now and again.

Which meant that at minimum once a fortnight, Kuroko would turn those evil blue eyes at Taiga and say “It’s not as if you won’t be making enough food for five anyway” and Taiga would do it because he was a sucker.

This was why he was over at Aomine and Kise’s apartment building that evening. Usually he made Kuroko do this bit – he already cooked everything, after all – but Kuroko had an assignment to do and had left early, and Taiga would probably eat it himself if he left it in the fridge until Kuroko could take it to them, and then Kuroko would make a disappointed face.

His disappointed faces were the worst.

So he was here, trudging up the stairs to their apartment carrying food. He needed to remember to take the containers from the last time he’d made food for them.

He was just standing outside the door to their apartment when he heard them.

“Fucking- come on Ryouta; I am not doing all of this by myself.”

“But I’m hungry. I was going to make dinner!”

“You can’t cook for shit, and I refuse to be blamed for ruining your stupid clothes. Do you know how many of your things have special washing instructions? Fuck that shit, Ryouta. Fuck that shit.”

“But it’s boring.”

“Of course it’s fucking boring. It’s housework. But I have no clean clothes left because you keep stealing my clothes, and we might as well do it all if we’re going to do it.”

Taiga heard footsteps approaching the door – one purposeful (probably Aomine) and one reluctant and dragging (definitely Kise) – and decided he needed to knock right now.

He did, and heard the footsteps pause. “If it’s that bitch from downstairs,” he heard Aomine start muttering.

The door yanked open, and Taiga was treated to the sight of Aomine with a basket of clothes under his arm, and Kise with his arms around another basket.

The three of them blink at each other for a moment.

“Uh,” Taiga uttered.

Kise beamed. “Aominecchi, look! Food!”

Aomine was scowling at him. Was he red? Taiga couldn’t quite tell from here, and didn’t really want to get close enough to find out.

“Uh,” he said again, “if you tell me where the containers from last time are, I’m happy to just leave these in the kitchen and go.”

The two of them looked at each other.

“I can’t remember,” Kise said. “Was it my turn to do dishes that week?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember. Tetsu usually tells us to put them somewhere right?”

“Kurokocchi had to leave early last time...”

The two of them were quiet for a moment.

“I could stay and help Kagamicchi look for them,” Kise said. The expression on his face was more an attempt at innocence than anything.

Aomine kicked at his shins, and Kise yelped. “No fucking way. I already told you I’m not doing the washing on my own. You’re going to sort your own damn clothes and do your own goddamn handwashing, because I am not taking the blame if your shit gets wrecked again.”

Taiga wasn’t sure what it was that was making him so uncomfortable about witnessing this – whether it was the feeling that he was intruding on something, or the horrifying and disgusting domesticity of it all.

Domesticity was not really something he associated with either Aomine or Kise, mostly because they were honestly two of the most childish and immature people he knew.

He was about to say ‘fuck the containers, I’ll get Kuroko to pick them up another time’ when Kise nudged Aomine with his foot.

“Hey, Aominecchi, we should ask Kagamicchi about the washing thing! He’s been living alone for ages, I’m sure he’ll know!”

“...I am not teaching you how to wash your clothes. Don’t either of you have parents? Why don’t you already know this shit?”

“Aominecchi would go to school in his dirty shirts, if his mother didn’t do it,” Kise informed him. “I was too busy.”

“What Kise actually means,” Aomine drawled, “is that he’s a spoiled baby.”

“I can’t believe you two are actually real people,” Taiga muttered. “I can’t believe you two are my biggest rivals. Fuck this shit. I want a refund.”

“I never asked for you either,” Aomine answered. “Be grateful.”

“Please, Kagamicchi?”

“I’m not your mother. Just let me find the containers and go home. Don’t you have something you’re supposed to be doing?”

It was almost like a magic spell; their united front shattered, and Kise puffed out his cheeks as Aomine scowled.

“Stop distracting me!” Aomine turned around to face Kise. “Down to the laundry room!”

“Aominecchi--”

“No. Sex won’t cut it. Go.”

Kise sighed mournfully. “Damn it.” He manoeuvred his way past Aomine and Taiga and trudged downstairs.

“If you can’t find them, just tell Tetsu to fetch them,” Aomine said. “He always finds them, no matter where we put them. And lock the door before you leave.”

He trotted after Kise, and Taiga sighed.

Way more trouble than they were worth.

---

DINNER PARTIES – (or, no, actually, they can’t)

---

“What is this?”

Taiga waved the card at Kuroko’s face. It hadn’t been on his fridge when his boyfriend had arrived, so the only explanation was that it came with him.

The contents of the card were an invitation.

“It’s an invitation for dinner, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko said, deliberately slow. Taiga wanted to grind his palm into Kuroko’s head. “I had assumed you would be able to read it, though perhaps I put a little too much stock in...” he peered closer to examine the handwriting, “...Kise-kun’s handwriting being legible.”

“I can read it just fine!” Taiga snarled. “They can’t cook, why are they hosting us for dinner?”

“Are you sure you were able to read the card?” Kuroko asked. “I told Kise-kun to include that you were invited so they could say thank you when he asked me what to put on it.”

Taiga sighed. “Of course it was Kise’s idea.”

He looked over the invitation more closely. Then he looked at Kuroko, who had that stubborn set to his mouth he got when he was going to fight for something.

Bastard.

“I can’t convince you not to, can I?” he asked, feeling tired already.

“You could try,” Kuroko answered, though the expression on his face said something more like, ‘not on your life’.

The things Taiga did for this little bastard.

---

It was when Kuroko agreed that they should arrive significantly earlier than the time indicated on the invitation that Taiga started to get a sinking feeling very similar to dread in his stomach.

This was not aided by the fact that upon arrival, something definitely smelled burnt.

“Kurokocchi!” Kise greeted at the door. “You’re early! Did you miss me?”

“Tetsu’s here already?” Aomine yelled from further inside. “He’s not here to see you, idiot. He has the big red lug with him, doesn’t he?”

Kise looked at Taiga. “Yes, of course.”

Taiga almost considered turning around and leaving right then, but then Kise waved them inside, and took their coats. This was kind of weird, because Kise just threw the coats over the back of the couch after he got them, because their apartment didn’t really have anywhere to hang them.

Kuroko looked around. “The place looks nice.”

He was being very polite. And he was really stretching the meaning of the word ‘nice’. They haven’t cleaned up half as well as Taiga would if he had company; but then, he’s not even sure the two of them know how, at this point. He looked over at the kitchen, and his dread is totally validated as Kise bounced into the kitchen and curled his arms around Aomine, sufficiently distracting him from preparing food.

And the kitchen is a mess.

Taiga couldn’t bear to look at it. He looked at Kuroko, who had a very challenging look on his face, somehow.

“I really hate you sometimes,” he said to Kuroko. “If you want to have a goddamn dinner party, just say so.”

“I would never want to impose on your hospitality in such a way, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko answered, and it’s a damned lie, and they both know it, just like both also know that Kuroko really loves watching Taiga kick and boss around his two most immature ex-teammates.

So Taiga sighed, tired and exasperated already, and then drew himself up to his full height before stalking into the kitchen.

“You’re both useless,” he informed them. “Get out and do something you can’t fuck up. Like tidy up a bit more. This place is not company-level tidy.”

“Uh,” Aomine started, but Kise dragged him out of the kitchen before he could begin to argue properly.

Taiga looked over the food; there were various things everywhere on the bench with no logical order or progression to what had and had not been worked on, and then he wondered why it was that he continued to put up with all these idiots.

It’s not hard for him to cook for six, since he practically does it for himself every day. It was annoying being in an unfamiliar kitchen though, and Aomine kept trying to wheedle his way into helping in there instead of tidying and cleaning. Taiga took no small pleasure in shooting him down, and then watching with a vindictive sense of pride as Kuroko jabbed his fingers into Aomine’s side for trying to slack off from his newly assigned job.

All in all, by the time Midorima and Takao showed up at the time the invitation specified, the living spaces in Aomine and Kise’s apartment were (relatively) clean and tidy, the food was mostly done, the table was set, and the kitchen, since Kagami tidied as he cooke, no longer looked like a complete disaster zone.

“Please tell me Kagami cooked,” is the first thing that comes out of Midorima’s mouth after Kise lets him and Takao in.

Kise and Aomine both made noises of outrage at the slight against their combined cooking abilities as they all migrated into the living space. Taiga watched as Takao nodded his head in Kuroko’s direction so that Midorima could make eye contact with him.

“Yes, Kagami-kun cooked,” Kuroko confirmed. “Kise-kun, you should resume your hosting duties and take their coats.”

“How come he always listens when you tell him to do things?” Aomine complained when Kise jumped to do as he was told. “All he does is whine when I do it.”

“Kurokocchi is special,” Kise interrupted as he folded the coats over his arm. “And you can’t talk, I can never get you to do any cleaning or tidying, but you listened to Kurokocchi before!”

“Shut up, Kise.”

“Shin-chan’s really happy to get to eat your food again, Kagami,” Takao said as he wandered towards the kitchen. “I’m almost jealous.”

Taiga looked at the door, where he was leaning. “Come and help, then,” he said. “You don’t seem incompetent, like the other idiots.”

Takao snickered. “Maybe I’ll pick up tips some other time. You don’t really need any help at this stage, from what I can tell.”

He shrugged. He didn’t, but that hadn’t been the point.

“I’m a bit surprised Midorima was willing to come,” he said. None of them were Midorima’s favourite person; though in all honesty, from what Taiga had seen, Midorima didn’t seem to enjoy anyone’s company except perhaps Takao’s.

Takao grinned. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said cheerfully, “Shin-chan loves you guys. Also, he’s dying for a good meal. He can’t cook, and I’ve been really busy with my studies so we’ve been living off instant and store bought stuff for a bit.”

Taiga had to wonder if it was too late to reverse all the life decisions he’d made that had resulted in him being here with so many incompetent assholes.

“Kuroko,” he called out, “we’re breaking up.”

“Yes, yes,” Kuroko answered from behind Takao – Taiga jumped, and Takao grinned at Kuroko. Asshole. “Can it wait until after dinner, though?”

“I figured it out,” he said, deliberately loudly. “Someone told you to seduce me because I can cook, didn’t they.”

“I’m glad that you’re enjoying yourself, Kagami-kun,” Kuroko said, voice bland. “Takao-kun, you may wish to return to the other room. Kise-kun and Aomine-kun enjoy picking on Midorima-kun a little too much. I believe they are unable to resist an easy target.”

Takao sighed. “I almost wish I could join in,” he lamented. “It’s his curse, to be so wonderfully fun to tease.”

In the pause in their conversation, the indistinct sound of Midorima’s outraged voice filtered through, and Takao grinned before moving back to the living space.

Taiga looked at Kuroko. “Get in here and help me put everything in serving bowls,” he muttered.

Kuroko nodded, and unerringly pulled the bowls out. Taiga didn’t know if he wanted to know why he was so familiar with Aomine and Kise’s kitchen.

“Seriously, though,” Taiga sighed, “I ended up doing all the work of cooking anyway...”

“It’s probably preferable to sampling Aomine-kun’s attempts at making food,” Kuroko commented. “And I was unable to talk Kise-kun out of the dinner party.”

Taiga started filling up the bowls. “We could have just not come,” he said. “You do realise we could have just refused, right.”

Kuroko stared at him blankly. “Kagami-kun, do you really think that would stop Kise-kun?”

He paused as he passed one of the bowls back to him. “...Maybe not,” he admitted, grudgingly. He could all too vividly imagine the crying and wailing and the endless mails on his phone, and then when Aomine got sick of him being sulky and bitchy, having to deal with him in person when he was kicked out of the apartment.

Kuroko was looking smug as he left the room with bowls in hand, and Taiga would have jabbed his side if it wouldn’t have meant the food would go all over the floor.

---

INSOMNIA AND CUPCAKES – (or, Aomine is a child)

---

“Kagami, I’m bored.”

Taiga mentally counted to five so he didn’t lose his temper. “No one asked you to come over here,” he grumbled. “I didn’t ask for you to be here. Why are you here? Leave.”

“Obviously I’m here because I’m bored,” Aomine said. “Also, the apartment is too quiet with Kise gone. It’s driving me crazy.”

“You’re driving me crazy! Go home.”

It was day four.

Kise was... somewhere; honestly, Taiga wasn’t entirely sure where he was exactly, since he didn’t care enough to remember. The only thing he did know was that Kise was somewhere not close enough to Tokyo to come home every night, and that he was going to be gone for six days.

Aomine had turned up on day three, saying that he was bored and wanted to play basketball, which Taiga had been more than happy to do, until he realised that Aomine had no intentions of leaving his apartment until Kise was scheduled to get home.

He had taken up residence in the spare room of his apartment, which Kise paid him to store half his wardrobe in, saying that because Kise paid to use the room space, he was totally justified in taking the bed. Taiga had, of course, said that Kise paid him for the storage, not for the fucking room, and that if he was renting the room as a whole he’d charge him more, but Aomine never listened to... well, anything Taiga said that wasn’t something he agreed with.

“Let’s play basketball,” Aomine said. “It’s not that late. Kise would do it.”

“Kise loves you, and I do not,” Taiga answered. “Go to bed, it’s--” he looked at the clock. Jesus. “—one in the fucking morning.”

“You were still awake,” Aomine pointed out.

Taiga turned over in bed and decided to try and ignore him. This turned out to be a bad idea, as Aomine had absolutely no reluctance about climbing over him in his quest to find entertainment.

“Okay, okay, so no basketball,” Aomine continued, and Taiga groaned. “We should make cupcakes.”

He gave up sleep as a bad job and sat up, rubbing his face and feeling exhausted. “Why?”

Aomine looked at him as if he was the dumb one here. “Obviously for Kise.”

“Kise isn’t going to be back for another two days. They’ll be stale by then.”

“Okay, for me then, are you happy?”

No, he wanted to say, he was not happy, because Kuroko was supposed to be in his bed tonight, not Aomine, and because he didn’t want to make food for Aomine at one in the morning, and because Aomine was annoying as hell.

“Your boyfriend is rubbing off on you,” he muttered. “Were you always this annoying?”

“Of course Kise rubs off on me,” Aomine answered instantly, with a very smug look on his face. Taiga resisted the urge to gag at him.

“Come on, show me how to make them,” Aomine said. “Then I won’t need you there next time.”

Of course there was no way in hell Taiga was letting Aomine roam free in his kitchen, but that wasn’t going to be particularly productive.

Clearly, Aomine was not going to let him sleep, so Taiga sadly gave up on the idea of having some rest before training in the morning, and hauled himself up out of bed.

“Are you awake because you never stop napping?” he asked. He felt heavy as he moved out towards the kitchen.

“I didn’t nap today,” Aomine said. “I can’t sleep.”

Fucking hell.

 ---

He woke up to a text message from Kise after he came home from training and crashed on the couch.

thank you for taking care of aominecchi kagamicchi!!! (っ´▽｀)っ

He resisted the urge to throw his phone at the wall.

make him go home

The reply was instantaneous

but aominecchi gets lonely・゜・(ノД`)

i don’t fucking care

you’re heartless, kagamicchi｡･ﾟ･(*ﾉД`*)･ﾟ･。

He gave up at that point, and half-heartedly tossed the phone onto his bag.

He definitely wasn’t going to be the one warning Kise that Kuroko was pissed off about their aborted date night.

---

Aomine had crashed during the day, tired out by his sleepless nights, the night before Kise came home, and repeated his request for cupcakes.

Fleetingly, it occurred to Taiga that he must also have lost his mind somewhere from the exhaustion of dealing with a perpetually awake, cranky, demanding asshole, to be indulging his request. He had a faint idea that Kise didn’t even like sweets and cakes, from memory, but Aomine was determined and he was weak and wanted to sleep.

He was in the middle of wearily mixing up the batter at some ridiculous hour – he didn’t want to think about how late it was – when it occurred to him to ask why Aomine was so set on having food for Kise. Food Kise wasn’t even that keen on.

Aomine’s face went a very interesting and amusing shade of red, so Taiga put the mixing bowl down and leaned in, grinning.

“Come on. I’m making it, after all. Don’t I deserve to know?”

“Fuck off, Kagami,” Aomine said, fidgeting and refusing to look at him. Taiga raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.

“I’ve got all night, Aomine,” he said spreading his hands out. “If you want me to finish them, you have to spill it.”

It took a moment, leaning against the counter watching Aomine, for Aomine to come to the realisation that he was not, in fact, joking, and he made a frustrated, angry noise.

“Kise’s always starving when he finishes a job,” he mutters. “Eats everything in sight to reward himself or some shit like that.”

That... was surprisingly sweet. Aomine must have seen something on his face, because his scowl deepened. “Are you going to finish doing that, or what?”

Taiga wondered if this was the kind of thing Kuroko meant when Taiga asked him about why he was friends with these assholes. Probably. It still didn’t seem worth the trouble, but well.

It was nice.

He still wasn’t going to warn them Kuroko was pissed off at them, though.

Bite

---

Kise Ryouta had not always been a werewolf.

He was almost nine years old when he was bitten.

It was, at the time, considered a highly unfortunate accident.

---

He was a silly kid; an indulged and spoiled youngest child and only son. At eight years old, the explanations for why he wasn’t supposed to go outside one evening a month disappeared from his brain almost as fast as they entered it.

His sisters had been fighting all day that day; his parents had been distracted trying to sort out their quarrel, and stop them from hitting and scratching and pulling each others’ hair. Ryouta had taken the chance in the confusion, to wander outside.

In all honesty, Ryouta never did remember very much about that night. What was imprinted on him about the whole thing was the morning after, when he’d woken up in the hospital surrounded by the pale faces of his parents, the teary eyes of his sisters, and a dull throbbing in his arm from where the dog he’d tried to pat had bitten him.

His parents and the doctor were still speaking; they hadn’t noticed he was awake. Ryouta’s sisters were probably supposed to tell them, but it was obvious they were listening into what the doctor was saying to their parents instead.

“...that bit him will probably come looking for him,” the doctor said. “They have an honour code like that, if they’re the good ones. The packs in this area are quite nice; we’ve only had a handful of incidents over the years, but they always come to find out if they lived and look after them if they did.”

His parents looked over at that point, and that was when they finally noticed he was awake. Ryouta was fussed over, which was always nice, and then his parents and the doctor went outside to keep talking. His sisters were more attentive to him than usual after they’d left.

“Does it hurt?” Satomi, the younger sister, asked.

Ryouta shook his head, and both of them seemed a little relieved. They pulled out some of Ryouta’s toys then; the stuffed dog he had named Puppy that he slept with at night was placed in his lap, and his gameboy on the bedside for later. It was a bit embarrassing that they brought Puppy in – he was a big boy! – but he was also glad to have him there, too.

The stranger came in a bit after midday.

First, the doctor called his parents out of the room again.  They had been sitting and watching him and his sisters up until then, and it hadn’t occurred to Ryouta that this might be strange, or that they should be somewhere else at this time. Instead, he was playing tea parties with his sisters. He didn’t usually like playing tea party with them, but there wasn’t really anything better to do while he was stuck in bed like this.

He and his sisters looked up when their parents left. Through the glass they could see the person they were talking to was a young woman, though to Ryouta’s eyes at the time she was an adult.

His sisters were called out by his parents when the stranger entered.

She stood next to his bed, twisting her fingers together for a moment, then took a deep breath.

“I’m so sorry,” she said.

“Why?”

She looked at him. “I bit you. I’ll do my best to take care of you.”

Ryouta frowned. “A dog bit me.”

Her shoulders slumped, and she looked at the floor. “My name is Takahashi Shizuka. I’m a werewolf, and last night I bit you.”

Ryouta blinked at her. “Oh.” He tried his best to remember what he’d been told about werewolves. That... explained a lot about why he was here. “Am I a werewolf too now?”

“Yes. I’m very sorry. I didn’t do it on purpose.”

She looked like she was about to cry. When girls cried, people got in trouble – Ryouta saw it happen all the time at school. He didn’t want to get into trouble, because he didn’t do anything. Adults liked it when he smiled, so he did.

“Don’t cry. I’m okay!”

He got up on his knees and patted her hair. His parents and sisters did that when he cried. “Shizu-chan said she’s going to take care of me, right? Don’t cry.”

She took a deep breath and gave him a wavering smile. “I’ll... I’ll come to fetch you next month okay? And introduce you to our pack.”

Ryouta nodded. “Okay.”

He sat back down then, and pulled Puppy back into his arms.

---

For the month following the bite, Ryouta found himself feeling distant from a lot of his classmates.

Part of it was, of course, coming back to school with his arm all wrapped up. His parents had said he was free to say why, but somehow Ryouta had gotten the impression that they didn’t want him to, so he didn’t. A lot of kids were curious, especially when Ryouta kept the resulting scar covered up too – it would probably be easy for people to figure out, he thought, if they saw the bite shape.

Having a secret as big as I’m a werewolf made him feel different. Even though he didn’t really feel like a werewolf. After all, he hadn’t actually turned into a werewolf yet. But somehow it seemed like there was an impossible distance between him and all the other kids he used to play with.

More than that, he was a bit worried about this whole werewolf transformation thing. It was coming up surprisingly fast, and he didn’t really know how to feel about it.

On the one hand, it sounded kind of awesome and special and magical? On the other hand, it sounded kind of scary and maybe painful. Ryouta didn’t like hurting. He didn’t want to hurt. He didn’t like talking about to his sisters or parents about his fear, though. The first few times they’d adopted a quiet, sad kind of expression, and he hated the way it felt to be looked at that way by them. And then of course he couldn’t tell any of the kids at school.

It was a bit lonely.

Shizuka came for him in the late afternoon the day of the full moon after his bite. It had been quiet about the house; Ryouta knew it was because of what was going to happen.

He was going to turn into a full werewolf tonight.

Shizuka had come around a few times during the month, asking if he had any questions or if he felt worried at all. He’d always said no, because he didn’t really have any questions, and he hadn’t really wanted to tell her he was scared. She was still a stranger, after all.

When they left the house, his hand was curled in hers. Ryouta wasn’t sure if it was for his sake or for hers, but he didn’t really mind either way, for once.

“Will it hurt?” he asked as they walked down the street.

She squeezed his hand. “Yes.”

Ryouta frowned and kicked at the ground. “I don’t want to hurt.”

Shizuka squeezed his hand again. “I know,” she said quietly.

It wasn’t until they were approaching the meeting point - a small community hall based within a park - that Ryouta realised there were no other children around.

He started feeling really nervous then. But Shizuka said she would take care of him, right?

They started with introductions. Shizuka kept a firm, comfortable grip on Ryouta’s hand – he could pull away if he wanted or needed to, but unlike usual he doesn’t quite feel like bouncing around and chattering the ears off of anyone who’ll listen to him about what sports he tried today and how far he got in his games and what he learned in school. He found some comfort in Shizuka’s relative familiarity while surrounded by all these strangers.

He couldn’t remember most of their names, but most of them seemed very nice. Some of them send looks he doesn’t understand in Shizuka’s direction, but they patted his head and smiled at him when he introduced himself – “My name is Kise Ryouta, I’m almost nine!”

The next closest to him in age is fourteen. He looked bored and kept checking his watch for the time; it’s starting to get dark.

The adults started taking off and folding their clothes. Some of the teenagers are shy and embarrassed as they do so, and Ryouta noticed that people respectfully kept their eyes averted. Most still wore underwear of some kind.

“Clothes get ruined in the transformation,” Shizuka said to the unasked question. “Here, pass me your things, and I’ll put them with mine.”

When everyone’s done, they all wander outside. It’s a little bit cold; someone locked the door.

“Almost time,” someone muttered.

Shizuka sat cross-legged on the grass and tugged Ryouta over to sit in her lap. He squirmed a little, starting to feel uncomfortably pinpricks underneath his skin.

The pack huddled around them; any shyness is forgotten, because Ryouta felt hot and the pinpricks are getting worse and it hurts, and the skin on Shizuka’s hands was getting rougher as they run through his hair and rub his arm and he didn’t like this. He didn’t like this at all.

Everything started to get very confused at that point. In all honesty, Ryouta didn’t remember a lot of it.

The few things he would later be able to remember later included knowing and sensing and feeling the pack reaching out for him, but not knowing how he could tell through the pain; and he could remember the way that his pack-mother’s fur felt against his back as she curled herself around him while his own body struggled to make the first change.

He remembered that first moment after the confused agony began to dissipate and feeling safe and protected and surrounded by Pack.

---

Shizuka took him to the hospital first thing in the morning.

Honestly, the overriding feeling Ryouta had was mainly that of exhaustion; he hadn’t slept last night. He stumbled more than once as they walked, and was greatly relieved when they arrived, even though he still wasn’t being allowed to sleep.

“Why?” he complained.

“It’s standard procedure, Ryouta-kun,” said the doctor checking him out, and he groaned. It was the same doctor as last time. “Especially because of how young you are.” The doctor looked at Shizuka. “Are his parents on their way?”

Shizuka nodded. “The plan was to meet here this morning, because we weren’t sure...”

The two of them glanced at him, and he sighed heavily.

“I’m tired,” Ryouta whined, interrupting whatever was going on between the adults. “I want to go to bed.”

“You can sleep after you answer a few questions for me, Ryouta-kun, how about that?” the doctor asked. “Are you sore anywhere?”

“No.”

“Everything looks the same?”

Ryouta made a face at him. “Yes.”

“You can hear okay?”

“Yes.”

“Nowhere is numb or tingling?”

“No.” Ryouta flopped back on the bed. “Is this almost over?”

The doctor smiled, but he didn’t look very amused. “Yes. Go to sleep, Ryouta-kun. We’ll wake you when your parents get here.”

He sighed and closed his eyes.

“Takahashi-san, what can you tell me about Ryouta’s transformation?”

Even though Ryouta remembered thinking that he wanted to listen, he was asleep before he knew it.

He woke up in his own bed, because his sisters were shaking him.

“What is it?” he mumbled.

“Ryouta, what was it like?” Satomi asked. “Ack!”

The eldest of the three of them, Nariko, at the imperious age of thirteen years old, had dropped her fist on Satomi’s head. “We’re supposed to ask if he feels okay talking about it first, Mama said,” she scolded. Satomi, ten and irrepressible, sighed in response. “And we’re supposed to wait until after lunch.”

This woke Ryouta further, despite still feeling tired. He was hungry. “Lunch is ready?”

The two of them nodded. “Mama said to wake you up because you didn’t have breakfast,” Nariko said.

“We had to be quiet all morning because you were sleeping,” Satomi added, sighing. “Mama kept shushing us.”

Ryouta got out of bed. “I’m hungry,” he announced. “And I don’t really remember a lot about it.”

It was a lie; he remembered enough to know he definitely didn’t want to talk about it. But his sisters seemed to accept it, though Nariko looked a little sceptical.

“How did I get home?” he asked when they got to the kitchen. His sisters giggled.

“Papa carried you,” Satomi said. “He said they couldn’t wake you up!”

“Least I can still be carried,” Ryouta answered, sticking his tongue out at them. “Not like you.”

He was easy catch in his still-just-waking state, but his shrieks as his sisters hit him with pillows was enough to bring their mother over to break up the fight, and he was probably a little bit more pleased than he should have been when they got told off.

Nariko and Satomi would ask what it was like on a number of other occasions, but Ryouta never really knew how to explain how it felt. His memories were very clear, but he didn’t have the words, and he didn’t think any other wolf did either, to talk about what it was really like to those who could never understand.

---

It’s not until Ryouta is older that he learned how easily he could have died.

He’d been twelve and in his last year of Elementary; one of the most boring parts of the year was the day when a werewolf or two would come in and talk to students about being careful on full moon nights and not going outside, because it’s a bit late for him now. He never skipped it, though. Skipping it is a clear sign you’re a werewolf, since werewolf kids get a free pass from the lecture. While there’s no prejudice in his class, Ryouta liked to reveal his nature at his own deciding, and usually to individuals rather than a full class.

Usually, visiting werewolves come from out of area packs, so they don’t compromise any kids’ status if they’ve chosen not to tell anyone. Ryouta gets looks sometimes from visiting wolves that make him bristle, but especially the first year after he’d been bitten, he’d just wanted to growl at them and make them leave, because they looked so shocked.

No one’s ever explained to him properly why it is that he can tell who’s a wolf and who isn’t, but he knows it’s something that all of them can just sense.

This year, the wolves eyes flicked to him but they don’t give him a look like they have in earlier years. Ryouta learned why after the obligatory lecture is over. He spent most of it staring out the window. Nothing they have to say applies to him – he’s on the other side of the werewolf experience these days.

His teacher asked him to stay back after classes finished for the day. A few students giggle; Ryouta is often scolded for his disastrous grades.

For once, it’s not about his grades.

The two werewolves from earlier are waiting with a few other kids. None of them are from Ryouta’s class, but all of them are around the same age. Ryouta isn’t sure why they’re all here until the werewolves started speaking about First Transformation.

He raised his hand. The rest of these kids must have werewolf heritage, and that’s fine, but he was bitten. He’s already gone through first transformation. He doesn’t need this.

The one speaking paused, and nodded at him.

“Can I go?” he asked. His eyes are half-closed; it’s after school and he’s bored and wanted to go home. “I’ve already been through first transformation. Did you not get close enough to sense it on me?”

“You’re not old enough for that,” the younger man argued. The woman with him waved her hand and he quieted. She must have a higher rank in their pack.

The rest of the kids are looking at him in surprise too. They’re definitely all heritage kids; that explained why he hadn’t sensed any of them as wolves yet. They’ll transform when puberty really starts to hit in the next few years. Shizuka had explained that to him when he’d asked why there were no other kids for him to play with after his third transformation.

It’s different when you’re bitten, though Ryouta’s never thought much about why.

“I didn’t,” she agreed. “You’re an early bloomer.”

He could leave it at that, but for some reason it seems like that would be an embarrassing thing for the other kids to leave thinking about him. “I was bitten,” he said. “Can I go now?”

The two wolves had traded looks, but he was reluctantly released. Ryouta wouldn’t have thought anything of it until one of the girls from the special lecture pulled him over a few days later after school and, cheeks flushed, had confessed that she had a crush on him because of how strong he must be.

“What?”

Ryouta was more confused than anything.

 “Well, kids that get bitten don’t survive first transformation very often! And I was in your class back then you know! You came to school with a bandage on your arm, and I figured it out! That’s why you didn’t show anyone, because it was a werewolf bite!”

He’d narrowed his eyes at her. “That’s private,” he said, and the girl – he couldn’t remember her name – had gone pinker.

“I won’t tell!” she promised. “You’re really special, Kise-kun!”

Well, yes. He knew that already.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m going to go now? I’m sorry; I don’t really like you in that way.”

She sighed. “I’ll come back when I’ve transformed!” she promised.

Ryouta rolled his eyes after he’d turned away. What was it with girl wolves and the whole mating thing anyway? That was like the most boring part of being a werewolf. It wasn’t even like it worked that way either. Shizuka had taken it upon herself as his pack-mother to explain it when one of the older teenage girls in their pack had moved to a different pack because she thought she’d have a better chance of finding a mate there.

“What about you?” he’d asked. He’d follow her wherever she went, of course; she was his pack-mother, and he wasn’t ready to run on his own yet.