18 for AoKi. Please. DOESN'T MATTER WHICH ONE OF THEM SAY IT. Give me angst..or fluff (or you know.. both).
18. “I shouldn’t be in love with you.”
title: drownpairing: aokisegenre: angst with a happy endingw/c: 2200summary: one night with kise turns into a dozen and aomine begins to wonder if he can really dip his feet in without letting himself drown.a/n: you said the magic words, cocobeans ♥ this got away from me hahaon ao3
The first time they hook up, it’s at an after-party for one of Kise’s events. It’s flashy and loud - all glitter and gold and flashbulb lights. Everything Kise is used to, attention he basks in. Aomine had been uncomfortable then, nursing a drink (his fourth of the night) and staying in his corner until Kise had been ready to leave. It was by chance Aomine had run into him in the first place, the spontaneous invite out of the blue and probably offered because Kise couldn’t find anyone else to go with him at the last minute.
“My date canceled,” he’d said, tapping away on his phone before he’d offered a sheepish grin and a hopeful tilt of his head. “Why don’t you come with me instead? It’ll be fun, Aominecchi! We can play basketball after if you get bored.”
Aomine had tried to decline, tried to find an excuse not to go so he wouldn’t have to spend the night boozing with a crowd that made him feel out of place, like he didn’t quite belong. But Kise was insistent. And when Kise has his mind set, Aomine has learned long ago not to even try.
When he’d found himself tangled with Kise in an empty coat room of the banquet hall, the music blaring from somewhere close by, Aomine had tried to think of a million excuses why it’d been a bad idea. But between the end of his fifth glass and Kise’s mouth burning a trail along the curve of his jaw, his excuses had disappeared into a haze filled with sloppy, heated, wanting kisses that continued well into the night, promise of basketball forgotten.
All he remembers is a hangover from hell, aching limbs, and Kise’s half-turned smile as he lay naked beneath the crumpled white of starched sheets tugged around legs that had been wrapped around him only hours before. He’d snuck out that morning, a texted apology and an impulsive kiss against Kise’s wayward strands all that was left as a reminder of what he’d tried to forget.
If Kise was bothered by his abrupt departure, he didn’t let on. Instead, he’d called for lunch a few days later and by the time they’d hooked up at least a dozen times (thirteen, but who was counting), Aomine knew he needed to make a decision. Needed to end things before it became so complicated, he’d drown in it like he did at thirteen. He thought he’d learned his lesson, even when, at fifteen, Kise had swept him in again before he’d realized it was too late to turn back. But now he’s older, wiser. More adept at recognizing the pull, the wreckage Kise would leave.
It seems, he thinks as he narrows his eyes at the publication he’d tossed on the table where Kise had been sitting with a model Aomine vaguely recognizes, that his decision has been made for him. Makes it easier, he tells himself. Makes it so I never have to go through this shit again.
But the thought only makes him angrier, more upset with himself than anything else that he’d let it happen again. That he’d been so stupid.
The magazine lays open on the table, pages crumpled beyond repair, but somehow managing to flip open at the exact page responsible for inciting Aomine’s ire in the first place.
Kise’s picture stares up at him, wrinkled but still vibrant, still teasing, his finger pressed secretively against lips Aomine knows well. But the look isn’t meant for him; instead, Kise is pressed up against someone else. Someone, who up until an hour before, Aomine had been sure was just “a friend from work”.
His fingers curl into his palms, nails biting into the skin, intent on breaking it if only to feel something else besides the hurt and confusion churning like venom in his gut, the irritation singing in his veins. The sting keeps him distracted as Kise stands in front of him, guiltily biting the edge of his lip while he fumbles for an excuse.
Because anything he says right then is just that. An excuse, a half-hearted attempt to keep Aomine’s temper in check, a way to smooth things over.
Aomine should have known better. But he is just as stupid, just as gullible, just as fucked as the first time he let himself fall, let himself drown, wreckage be damned.
“Aominecchi, it’s not what you thi–” Kise starts, his half-empty glass of whatever blue fruity thing he’s decided to have this time around knocked carelessly aside when he’d jumped apart from the model he’d shot with earlier in the day. Aomine gives the guy a once over, attempting to shove away the image of his arm around Kise’s shoulder, whispered conversation meant for places probably less public than some crummy bar. His steeled gaze scrutinizes the pale skin, the perfectly symmetrical face, the black button-up with sleeves rucked up to the guy’s elbows. Easy on the eyes, he thinks. Exactly like someone Kise should be with.
“Wasn’t thinkin’ anything,” Aomine replies with a knowing smirk in the guy’s direction. It earns him a confused grin in return, and even in the darkness of the bar, he can feel Kise’s burning gaze on him. “Just thought I’d drop this off. It’s what you wanted to talk about, right? You could’ve just texted. It would’ve been a hell of a lot faster to get it over with than draggin’ my ass down here. Nice article, by the way,” he says with a dry chuckle, before he hands the other guy a handful of bills and pats his shoulder and, because his insides feel hollowed out and he needs something, anything, to make him not feel as dumb as he probably looks, he lashes out with a snide, “he likes the blue drinks, but the green ones will do the trick faster.”
Kise’s expression is enough to level him, to ignite the guilt that joins the silent agony he refuses to acknowledge. His companion continues to look just as confused as before, but Aomine doesn’t stay to hear what either of them has to say. He turns and deadpans, tosses a mocking salute over his shoulder before weaving his way through the crowd. The air outside is cold, biting, but it tempers the stifling heat suffocating him moments before. The wind permeates through his clothes, runs a shiver up his spine. He tugs his coat around himself, intent on putting as much distance between him and whatever the hell just happened.
“Wait, Aominecchi!”
Aomine quickens his pace, curses himself for the sting behind his eyelids, and shoves his hands into his pockets as he pushes through despite the chilled wind whipping his face. Belated, he realizes his breaths have shallowed, and when a hand grabs his arm to pull him back, he exhales with a gasp as he whirls around to find Kise, wild-eyed and hair mussed, expression just as wrecked as Aomine feels.
Walls building back up, brick by brick, he deadpans before yanking his arm away. “I don’t have time for this shit,” he says, tone even. A little exasperated at having been made to have this conversation. But betraying nothing else.
“If you’d just let me explain–”
Aomine snorts, shakes his head. “It’s fine. You needed to get laid, I was there, it was convenient. I get it.”
“No, you don’t. It’s not like th–”
“I read the article.” Aomine rolls his eyes at Kise’s incredulous look. “I know, surprise, surprise. I actually do read your shit. Would’ve been nice to find out I’m ‘nobody special’ without havin’ to read it outta some fucking magazine, but hey, can’t lose what you didn’t have, right?”
“Aominecchi,” Kise tries again, voice tight. Aomine avoids looking at his face on purpose, doesn’t know if he can stomach what he’d find if he did. “When I did that interview, it was the day after you left me in the hotel and I didn’t know what that was or what we were because you disappeared and I–”
But Aomine puts a hand up to stop him. “That was a mistake. I shoulda stopped it then ‘cause I knew where that shit was going. I knew it like how I knew it wasn’t gonna work back in high school ‘cause I was good enough for you to fuck around with when no one knew about it, but not good enough to tell anyone about–”
“Aominecchi, please,” Kise whispers, desperate now, his hands twitching like he’s trying to keep from reaching out. Aomine knows the feeling.
“It was me. I fucking let it happen and I shoulda known better.” Aomine scoffs, bites the edge of his lip to keep his voice from shaking before he continues, “I mean, you’re you,” he says plainly, rambling now, waving a hand at Kise like it should be obvious that the universe is fucking with him. “I shouldn’t be in love with you.”
Kise stills, eyes wide and Adam’s apple noticeably bobbing. It’s a minute before he speaks, but when he does, it’s hesitant, unsure. “What?” he squeaks, taking a step back and shaking his head like Aomine had said something in a foreign language he couldn’t understand.
With a hand at his nape, Aomine shrugs. “Doesn’t matter,” he says, meeting Kise’s gaze and holding it; a glint of a challenge. “I’m ‘nobody special’… remember?”
“I lied!” Kise throws his hands up in the air before tangling his fingers through his hair in surprising frustration. “I didn’t want to sound more pathetic than I already felt. I thought when we’d met up again that maybe this time, it’d be different. This time, I wasn’t going to mess it up. We’re not as dumb as we both were before, we’d had time to figure out what we wanted, and I even canceled my date so you’d come to the party with me.” He sucks in a shaky breath, the tremble of his lip something Aomine fights to brush away. “But you left. And then I thought I was so stupid for thinking I could be to you what you’ve always been to me–”
It takes a second for Aomine to register what Kise had said, but when he does, he plants a hand on Kise’s face to shut him up as he tries to piece it together. “Hold on, what?”
Kise bats his hand away. “You were always looking at those magazines and you never seemed to be interested in what I had to say or what I was doing outside of basketball, so I thought, I don’t know, that I would end it before I got hurt any more than I already did,” he says, voice quiet. His lip juts out in a small pout, the glance he gives Aomine a little helpless, a little embarrassed. “That guy you saw me with inside? That wasn’t what you thought – he was trying to talk me into confessing and I was too chicken to do it ‘cause I didn’t want to mess up whatever we are. But I did that anyway, so I guess it doesn’t matter if you know now.”
Aomine lets the words sink in, takes in Kise’s mournful expression before he closes his eyes and doubles over, laughter echoing through the near empty parking lot. He braces a hand against his knee, presses the other against his side to alleviate the cramping pain. Kise waits for the laughter to subside before he squats in front of Aomine and tentatively ventures, “a-are you okay? I don’t get what’s so funny…”
Aomine shakes his head and straightens, offering to help Kise up. “You’re an idiot, y’know that?” he says, suddenly hyper-aware of the way his heart thrums against his rib cage and that he’s still holding on to Kise’s hand.
Kise looks affronted at the insult, but something in Aomine’s expression must have looked less tense, less angry than it did a moment before because he scoffs and tries to cross his arms without letting Aomine go. Their eyes meet and they both burst into hysterics. It isn’t until they’ve both calmed down that Aomine realizes how closely they’re standing together. Kise seems to sense it at exactly the same moment, his eyes zeroing in on Aomine’s mouth when he bites the edge out of anticipation.
“So, um,” Kise murmurs, so close that Aomine feels the warmth of his breath, catches the hint of sandalwood. Aches with the memory of it, the familiar yearning for something he thought he’d never have. “What now?”
“You’re an idiot, I’m an idiot,” Aomine says with a shrug, arms fitting around Kise like they were always meant to be there. “We can be idiots together? Wait, that sounds stupid and cheesy and just forget I sai–”
“Daiki,” Kise says with a small grin, lips so agonizingly close that Aomine can almost taste him, “I love cheesy. And stupid. Almost as much as I love you. Now, are you going to shut up and kiss me or do I have to–”
Before Kise can finish, Aomine closes the distance. Forgets dipping his feet in and lets himself drown.
