#ahknb

[animehead]

It's Just Acting

Summary: Kise is late for practice again. 

Pairing: KiKasa

Warnings: Nothing other than lazy editing 

A/N: This idea popped into my head while driving to work today, so I don't know. 

Kasamatsu glances around the gym, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, opens them, and glances around again. He already knows the answer to the question he’s about to ask, but he takes a chance and asks it anyway.  

  “Girls,” Moriyama says. “So many gorgeous gir—”

  “Where?” Kasamatsu says again, voice telling everyone that he’s definitely not in the mood to play games.

  “Hallway.”

  There are plenty of hallways in the building, and specifics would have been nice, but Kasamatsu is too irritated to point this out. Instead, he leaves the gym, tossing the ball in his hand behind his back without much to regard to where it lands or who it hits.

  He storms out of the gym, eyes set straight ahead, focused specifically on finding his target. As he turns the corner of one hall and begins down another, he tries to figure out if he should hit Kise, kick him, or perhaps use a combination of the two. Hell, maybe he’ll try something new and just strangle the life out of him.

  Yeah, he likes that option the most.

  After traveling down yet another hall, Kasamatsu finally finds Kise.

  He’s leaning against a row of lockers, smiling that charming smile of his that makes Kasamatsu want to put a plastic grocery bag over his head. Surrounded by a bunch of beautiful girls, Kise looks like he doesn’t have a single care in the world. Obviously, this is a problem because the idiot is supposed to at basketball practice right now.

  Kasamatsu wants to call out to him, but he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, not with all those girls standing around. Luckily, Kise glances over at him, smiles, and politely dismisses the girls. He waves at them as they walk away, one by one, leaving nothing but the two of them.

  Even Kasamatsu has to admit that he’s amazed how they all just... do whatever Kise says.

  But being amazed by Kaijo’s ace isn’t what he has planned today. The only thing scheduled for the next few minutes is beating the crap out of Kise.

  Kise grins at him.

  “Hi, senpai.”

  “What did I tell you about being late for practice because you’re too busy fraternizing with girls?” Kasamatsu curls his fingers into a fist as he walks over to Kise, ready to administer the only type of punishment that seems to work on his teammate. As typical of him, without warning, he swings his fist, not exactly caring where it lands as long as it hits something on Kise’s body.

  Only it doesn’t.

  Kise grabs his wrist in mid air, the action startling Kasamatsu briefly. He tries to recover by throwing another punch with his free hand, but Kise catches that one, too. His grip tightens on Kasamatsu’s wrists, fingers unbelievably warm and soft, a complete contrast from his own, which are dry and covered in calluses.

  Kasamatsu opens his mouth to speak, but the only sound that leaves his lips is a grunt when he’s shoved back against a row of lockers. He’s in a state of shock, that’s the only reason to explain why he’s just standing there wide eyed while Kise raises his arms into the air, and then pins them against the cold, metal surface of a locker.

  “Could it be that you want me to save all of my fraternizing for you, Yukio?”

  Kasamatsu is trying to speak. He knows he is because he can feel his lips moving. It’s just that nothing comes out, only tiny puffs of breath that grow smaller and smaller as Kise leans down toward him. Kise’s lips are close now, too close, so close that if Kasamatsu stuck out his tongue, he could taste the flavor of chap stick Kise uses.

  He’s tempted to find out.

  Kasamatsu’s ignores the heavy pounding of his heart. He knows he can do it. He just needs to take a chance. Kise wants it, obviously, and so does he. All he has to do is tilt his head a bit more, lean up a bit, push himself to stand on his toes, and...

  Kise smiles, chuckles, and pulls away before Kasamatsu actually gets the opportunity to be daring. He releases his Kasamatsu’s hands and stands upright, eyes going from their previously smoldering state to the playful one that Kasamatsu is used to.

  Kasamatsu feels cheated.

  “So what did you think?” Kise asks him.

  “About what?” Kasamatsu’s words are soft, confused.

  What just happened? Why didn’t they kiss?

  “Well, I’m already a model, but I’ve been thinking about getting into acting, and—” Kise gasps, doubles over, and clutches at his stomach. “Senpai, t-that one really hurt.”

  Kasamatsu briefly wonders if he really did punch Kise a bit too hard, but then decides that it probably wasn’t hard enough. “Get to practice,” he says, and turns around, leaving Kise whimpering and begging for assistance.

  He’s annoyed with Kise for getting him worked up like that, but he’s even more annoyed with himself for thinking that he ever actually stood a chance. Kasamastu sighs and stares at the floor, his hands gliding along the lockers as he walks, wishing they held the same warmth as Kise’s fingers.

  Kise winces and rubs his stomach as he stands upright. His senpai definitely didn’t hold back with that punch, but he still can’t help but smile. Honestly, he didn’t think the whole wanting-to-be-an-actor line would work, but maybe he’s is better at acting than he thought. Maybe he’ll put that on his list of things to pursue next, right after the current and most important thing, which were the words ‘true love’ right next to an amateurishly drawn image of Kasamatsu’s face.

[animehead]

Packed Like Sardines

Summary: Kagami isn't a fan of riding public trains. 

Pairing: AoKaga (Aomine/Kagami)

Warning: NSFW (I guess. Personally, I think it's cute. But then again, smut is my default)

A/N: I don't know. It's my kink. What can I say? Based sort of off of this pic. I just wanted to try them out because I adore them. 

It’s too hot. 

Kagami knows he’s frowning. He can tell by the way everyone on the train avoids eye contact with him. The people in closer proximity to him keep their backs turned to him altogether. There’s a kid playing some type of handheld game in front of him. Kagami watches him briefly, glares at the back of his head as he mashes buttons, elbow slamming into Kagami’s stomach each time he gets too excited. 

It’s almost like he’s suffocating. The heat surrounding him is too much, and he would like nothing more than to at least slide his backpack off his shoulders. Maybe he’d take his jacket off too, lean back a little, let his shoulders press against the train wall, and enjoy the coolness of metal against the exposed parts of his skin. 

Something presses against his head and Kagami can’t tell if it’s a bag, or a purse, but whatever it is, it has no business touching him. With a sigh, he scoots a fraction to the left, tries to put some space between his head and the item lingering next to it, only to hear an annoyed grunt in his ear. 

“Watch it,” Aomine says, eyebrows narrowed, eyes set sternly on Kagami. 

Kagami feels his foot being raised, lifted a few inches from its current position, which was on top of Aomine’s foot. More specifically, right on his new Jordan’s. 

“Then move,” Kagami grits out, his arm reaching down to block the kid in front of him from elbowing him in the stomach yet again. 

“No place to go,” Aomine replies and follows up with a yawn, breath smelling of spearmint gum as it fans over Kagami’s cheek. 

“Don’t blow your damn breath in my face like it’s okay,” Kagami growls, back pressing almost painfully against something hard in his backpack as he tries to add more distance between himself and Aomine.

Aomine just stares at him with thoughtful blue eyes before pursing his lips together and blowing hard in Kagami’s face. 

Kagami attempts to lunge forward, but the train jerks, sending him flying back against the wall and Aomine toppling against him. Aomine is courteous enough to let the people around him righten themselves first before he attempts to push himself off of Kagami. This gives Kagami the sudden opportunity to realize how incredibly warm his skin is. And it’s not just the feel of his skin, it’s his complexion, too. All warm and soft when it looks like it should be rigid and cold like his shitty personality. 

Bastard. 

There’s a scent coming from him, as well. Something fresh, like right after it rains and you can smell the earth all around you. But there’s something else there, something like wild strawberries, or some other sweet smelling fruit. Kagami doesn’t know. But he likes that scent, and when he inhales, he can almost taste it on his tongue. 

Or maybe he’s just hungry.

“Get off me,” Kagami mutters, hands reaching up to push at Aomine’s chest. 

“Don’t touch me.”

“Then move.”

And Aomine does, but it’s only because the train jerks again, and he has to press one hand against the glass next to Kagami’s head to keep from slamming all of his weight against the other boy. 

Kagami immediately comprehends that this position is even worse than the other one. Aomine’s lips are way too close to his face and his knee is wedged between Kagami’s legs. The fact that more people have squeezed their way onto the train only makes things even more awkward and embarrassing. 

“Sorry,” Aomine says, his breath sweet and warm against Kagami’s ear. 

Kagami doesn’t know if he’s actually sorry or not. What he does know is that this is bad. Really bad. The train ride is horrible, bumping along the tracks, and neither of them can move. He avoids eye contact with Aomine, eyes searching for an escape, a reason to push himself past the crowd before Aomine can notice that the constant rub of his knee is making Kagami’s dick hard. 

“Hmm.”

Too late. 

“What’s that?” Aomine says through a yawn. He actually yawns, as if he isn’t fully aware of what’s pressing against his knee. 

Kagami doesn’t answer him. 

“Oi, Kagami. What’s that?” Aomine says again, knee slowly shifting side to side, and then up and down, gently grinding against the bulge in Kagami’s pants. “Tell me.”

“Fuck you,” Kagami mutters, cheeks reddening, eyes alternating between closing and opening to stare up at the train’s ceiling. 

Kagami refuses to look at Aomine, but he knows he’s smirking, can feel his taunting gaze burning all over his skin. Even when he leans in and his lips gently graze the tip of Kagami’s earlobe, Kagami can sense that smirk, can feel it. And when Aomine speaks, Kagami swears he can hear it, too. 

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Aomine whispers. 

“Nothing to tell,” Kagami gasps out, fingers clutching at the straps on his backpack for support.

“Mm, guess you’re right,” Aomine agrees. 

And then he slides his free hand into Kagami’s sweatpants. 

There’s a lot of things that Kagami wants to say, but he can’t bring his mouth to form any words. All he can do is stand there with his back wedged against the train’s wall while Aomine’s hand grips him, stroking him with a strong, calloused palm that feels incredibly similar to his own. 

“You’re quiet,” Aomine says, and he stares directly at Kagami as he pumps his cock, his thumb grazing the slit and smearing precum before joining the rest of his fingers.

“What… ahh… what the hell do you want me to say?” Kagami replies. His hands drop from his backpack straps, one weakly gripping at Aomine’s wrist while the other hand slides beneath Aomine’s shirt, fingers pressing against hard abs and gliding over soft hair that tickles his skin.

“Haven’t looked around yet, have you?” There’s a knowing tone to Aomine’s voice, it’s playfully yet condescending and it annoys Kagami. “Time’s almost up,Taiga.”

“Shut up,” Kagami snaps. He closes his eyes and tries to focus on the way Aomine’s fingers feel wrapped around him, and on the lull of the the train when it isn’t jerking and throwing him back against the wall. More importantly, he focuses on Kagami’s scent, on the way it makes him feel dizzy and alert, relaxed and hyper, and so fucking alive. 

“I’m tired of waiting,” Aomine says, ruining everything. “Maybe I’ll stop.” But he leans in and presses his lips gently against Kagami’s neck. “Just kidding,” he whispers before biting down. 

It takes everything for Kagami not to scream as he cums, hard spurts spilling over Aomine’s fist and down his arm. Kagami’s fingernails rake down Aomine’s stomach, scratching at warm skin and clawing at the waistband of Aomine’s pants. 

Kagami breathes in a couple of harsh breaths, eyes squeezed shut, mouth stretched so wide that his jaws actually begin to ache. 

“What’s with that look?” Aomine asks. 

“What the hell do you think?” Kagami replies. He tries to sound menacing, but he knows it doesn’t come out that way. 

An orgasm on a crowded public train will do that to you, he supposes. 

Kagami hisses when Aomine continues to pump him, his sensitive cum covered cock slowly becoming flaccid in the other boy’s hand. 

“The only one who can beat you, is me,” Aomine murmurs to himself before chuckling.

“What?” Kagami growls. “What the hell did you just say?”

But Aomine doesn’t reply. 

He simply grabs Kagami’s hand and lowers it to his own cock, impatiently waiting for him to return the favor.