COMPROMISE (AoMido Week, Day 3)
PG. AoMido week, day 3. I should probably mention that I’m writing everything in the same setting as day 1 and 2. I like to think of AoMido working in the same hospital together. Haven’t figured out as what yet, though, in Aomine’s case.
This is just a drabble, because I’m tired again. I should type these up during the day, maybe then they’d be longer.
“Repeating it won’t change my mind. Sightseeing.”
“Augh!” Aomine snarls, simulating strangulation with his hands. “You’re so stubborn!”
Midorima doesn’t bother looking up from his book. “Pot, kettle,” he says coolly.
“It’s our first day off together in ages! We should be doing something different.”
At that, Midorima scoffs. “And how is basketball different from what we always do?”
“We don’t play basketball every day,” Aomine argues, “and it’s been a week since we played on a court properly.”
“We can choose just about any evening to play basketball,” says Midorima. “And we can play it with anyone. I can’t exactly have a fancy dinner with a stranger.”
Aomine buries his face into his pillow and groans. Midorima glances over at him. When Aomine tries to say something that comes out muffled, he sighs and sets his book down.
“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” he says, smacking Aomine lightly.
Aomine raises his head and there’s a grin on his lips. “I kinda remember you liking that when I-”
Midorima brings his book down onto Aomine’s head with a definitive thump.
“Owowowowow, that hurts, you sadist!” Aomine whines, rubbing the imaginary wound.
“You’re always so vulgar,” says Midorima, sticking his nose in the air to hide his burning cheeks. “I rue the day I decided you were it for me.”
“Hmph.” Aomine curls his arms around his pillow and pushes his cheek against it. “Damn right. You’re stuck with me, you know.”
Midorima’s lips twitch and he quickly clears his throat. “We should come up with a different activity if we won’t compromise,” he says.
“I can compromise a little sightseeing if we play basketball.”
“It would be foolish to do both, we won’t have the stamina. The exhibit I want to see is in the morning, and it will extend towards the evening. There won’t be time to play basketball.”
“Is this the exhibit you were ranting about last week? I thought you didn’t like whatever they’re doing there.”
“Ho,” says Aomine, a sly grin stretching his lips. “You want us to go so you can show them your unimpressed face and tear ‘em down bit by bit, huh? See, I did say you were a sadist.”
Midorima tries to suppress his own smile. “I can’t very well let them go on uncontested, can I?”
“Heh, I guess not.” Aomine rolls onto his back and expels a laugh. “I can’t believe people used to say I was the kid who liked to start fights. Obviously you were the delinquent.”
“I’m not a delinquent, and you did cause a lot of fights.”
“Tch,” says Aomine, avoiding Midorima’s gaze. “Ah, whatever, we’ll do what you want. I don’t really mind all that much what we do, I just wanted to spend the day with you. We’ll go to that stupid exhibit on Saturday.”
“I get to throw spitballs if I get bored.”
This time, Midorima doesn’t even bother hiding his smile. He reaches out to lay his hand on Aomine’s. “Your shift on Sunday after starts at twelve, correct?” he says.
“Till midnight, yeah. Yours starts at six. Hah, I get to sleep in.”
Midorima cradles Aomine’s hand, tapping the roughened skin of his palm. “I’ll call the staff nurse in my department and ask her to reschedule my Sunday shift,” he says.
“Eh?” Aomine looks up at him, confused.
“Then,” says Midorima, lips quirked, “we can play basketball after dinner on Saturday.”
Aomine blinks slowly as the words process. Then he grins up at Midorima and presses a kiss against the hand holding his. “It’s a date.”
