Chapter Text
It's a nice evening, despite the sweltering heat of mid-summer. The cicadas are singing, and overhead, a cloudless night sky glimpses between the tall walls of the alleyway.
Aomine would enjoy this late night walk through the streets. It's peaceful, unlike Tokyo, and blissfully quiet without all the city noise that usually still buzz even at this hour of the night—if not for the increasingly annoying voice grumbling from behind him.
"Shut the fuck up," he snaps.
The problem is, Kagami won't. He keeps on fuming and going on and on about whatever it was Aomine did that pissed him off—tuning in for exactly three seconds, apparently it's still about what Aomine said to Satsuki.
They're on the summer before their second year. Their teams are out for a joint training camp in the suburban areas of Miyagi. It's only the first night of their four day weekend trip, and Kagami's already on his ass.
"You shut the fuck up and listen to me, Ahomine," Kagami seethes, walking faster to keep pace with him. "You hurt her feelings. And you hurt them real bad this time."
It's not like Aomine cares. It was a small argument back at the cabin, after everyone got back from practice to find him lounging in the common room with a bag of chips. She'd scolded him to start cooperating with the training regime, nagging about how he wasn't supposed to disappear the entire day and how disrespectful he was to their team and Seirin. He wasn't having any of it.
Not right now, anyway.
So he told her to fuck off and mind her own business instead of his, like someone who actually has a life. And what? Momoi will get around eventually. She always does.
"Oi, Aho."
Kagami doesn't seem to think so. Now that Momoi's let him off the hook and gone somewhere to sulk, Kagami oh-so-diligently decides to take her place of talking his ear off. It's starting to get on his nerves.
On top of that, well. There's the rooming situation. Aomine doesn't want to think about that.
"So what?"
"So, I don't know, fuckin' apologize! You were the one who ran off to who knows where instead of actually training during training camp."
"God, ain't your ass getting sore already?" he drawls, keeping a step ahead of Kagami as they walk down the badly-paved road of the alleyway. It's dark, save for the buzzing lights generously spaced along the top of the alley walls.
"What?"
"Haven't gotten off my dick for so long."
Slam.
Aomine finds his back roughly hitting the wall. He blinks slowly, keeping his expression passive even though the impact did knock the air out of his lungs. Kagami's fists are curled up, crumpling the front of his shirt, forcefully pressing up against Aomine. He's dropped the plastic bag he's been carrying, their shampoo bottles from the convenience store they were just from clattering down on the pavement. Their noses are barely touching, bare knees pressed against the other's. Kagami's brows are furrowed deeply, jaw set. From this distance, he could make out the tiny beads of sweat on Kagami's nose bridge caused by the summer heat, hot even at nighttime.
Their eyes lock on each other's. Kagami's red irises are smoldering with anger, and Aomine, taking advantage of the inch he has on Kagami's height, tilts his chin up to look down on Kagami, staring back coldly.
"Don't fucking touch me," he hisses, squinting.
"Quit being a massive dick," Kagami spits back.
Aomine cranes his neck, mocking. He quirks up his lip in a sneer. Oh, he's on a roll with this one. "What, you jealous? Can't help that I own one."
At that, Kagami's ears flush red, clearly embarrassed by the unexpected quip. A wave of satisfaction washes through Aomine. He drops Aomine's shirt, though doesn't take a step back. "Not what I meant," he grits out. "What is it with you, asshole?"
"Get off my case, Bakagami. It's none of your business how I talk to her." Besides, he's been her friend first before Kagami's even known her, so what right does he have to order Aomine around about how he interacts with her? But he doesn't say it, not wanting to babble.
"She doesn't deserve you. You don't even treat her like a person."
As quickly as it came, the pleased feeling he has from getting Kagami flustered washes away, replaced by an ugly one creeping up his chest.
Aomine harshly shoves him. The other man stumbles a step back, though quickly regaining his balance. "Oh, what, now you're telling me what she deserves? You know her that well, huh? You her boyfriend now, or something? Back the fuck off."
If Kagami is taken aback by his sudden bout of anger, he does a good job to conceal it. Aomine notices the way his jaw set, but he doesn't say anything.
"That's what I fucking thought," he says, voice dropping lower, almost a whisper. He steps forward, purposely bumping his shoulder roughly against Kagami's, and starts walking.
He doesn't look back, but he knows Kagami picks up the bag from the convenience store and follows.
After a few, quiet paces, Kagami says, "You should apologize."
Aomine only scoffs at that, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his shorts.
"You're not scared that one day she'll get tired of you and stop?"
After a beat, he says, "Why would I be?" He kicks a piece of pebble from chipped pavement and it skitters down the road.
"Cause people do get tired, you know, being treated like shit all the time."
"I don't treat her like shit." Maybe he does, but what's it to Kagami?
"Aomine." Kagami stops walking. Aomine doesn't. "Oi."
After a few steps, he stops.
"Something's been on your mind, hasn't it?"
He's awfully perceptive for someone who looks so dense. Aomine doesn't say it, though, just shrugs and continues walking.
Something in Kagami's voice softens when he says, "What's bothering you?"
Aomine prickles. As if he needs a fucking heart-to-heart session. With Kagami, his rival, of all people. "Stop trying to get in my head."
"You know that if you just tell her, she'll get it, right?" Or me, he seems to be saying, unspoken.
"Fuck off. It's none of her concern." Or yours.
And that's that. They walk back to the cabin in silence.
-
It's already quiet when they arrive. Their teammates seem all to be fast asleep. Ahead of him, Aomine slides the front door open. It creaks at the hinges a little bit.
The rest of the walk back, Kagami couldn't stop thinking of why exactly Aomine seemed to be more on edge than usual. He didn't give an answer when Kagami asked those questions, but the lack of a no was as good as one. There's something in Aomine's mind, and it's getting to him.
True, he snaps at Momoi a lot, but Kagami's never seen him insult her so venomously like this. And with how Momoi reacts, it doesn't seem like a daily occurrence, either.
Watching Aomine's slender, toned back as the man enters through the doorway, he fumes.
"None of her concern," Aomine's voice echoes in his mind. None of his concern as well, definitely. It really isn't his business, and Momoi's not so close to him that he has any reason to be that protective of her. But something's clearly bothering Aomine, and it's bugging Kagami as well.
The biggest reason was because it's hindering their practice, he thinks. Earlier, as their teams played a friendly match against each other, Seirin won. He couldn't say it wasn't with much trouble since the other players are also strong, but it definitely wasn't anything close to what he experienced going head to head with Aomine. It had been ridiculously intense—forcing every last drop of energy and adrenaline out of him.
He'd been expecting that. Another match, another taste of that unbridled passion Aomine forcibly pulled out of him during their last face off. It's addicting—they haven't seen each other much since the Winter Cup, but he'd say the monthly 1-on-1s squeezed in between their tight schedules are just enough to remind him that the spark's still alive. He hadn't beat Aomine once since, but they were still exciting back and forths. Even Aomine, though never having admitted it, seems to enjoy it as much as Kagami does.
He wouldn't go as far to say that they were friends, no, but they were rivals. Proper rivals, with Aomine acknowledging his skills and actually putting in decent effort to beat him. They even text each other, sometimes, even if it's just to throw insults and arrange matches.
The excitement had been bubbling inside of him, building up to this training camp. It wasn't the prospect of a whole weekend of matches—it was because it meant he'd get to see Aomine again. Aomine always shows, when it comes to Kagami.
And then the asshole dipped.
The entire practice match, Kagami felt the empty space Aomine was supposed to fill. He felt the disappointment weigh him down. All he could think of was how different it would be with him here.
That's all that's bugging him—missing Aomine's skills in court. He's pissed because he showed, and Aomine didn't, and then further acted like he didn't even care. It wasn't like he's concerned about him.
Kagami huffs.
And then, to top it off, there's the shitty sleeping arrangements.
"Okay, gather up!" Momoi's voice rings out cheerfully as she claps her hands together. "Riko-san and I have made a system to decide your sleeping arrangements!"
"There aren't enough rooms for all of us to have one each," Riko says, once both teams have come around to listen. "And because the rooms either have two single beds or a double, we'll be sleeping in twos."
"We'll be picking our own roommates, right?" Wakamatsu speaks up, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his shirt. They've just finished the match. At noon, with the sun glaring down upon them.
That's when Kagami notices there's something wrong. Riko's mood seems too good, and Momoi's sporting a mischievous grin. It's rare to see them get along this well—downright suspicious.
"No, we'll be taking draws," the coach answers, much to the confusion of the teams. Kagami gulps. To right his suspicions, she adds, "And you'll be paired up with the other team."
"It'll be fun!" Momoi chirps. "We'll all be able to get to know each other better."
Sure, it's fun for them, who seem to have become friends over the spring, but not for him, who ends up stuck with Aomine of all people. He just wants another rematch, not to sleep in the same room with the guy. Out of court, he's still insufferable. He'd prefer Wakamatsu by a mile, who Kuroko got as a pairing from the draw. He'd asked Kuroko to switch with him, but Riko, who overheard, immediately adds a new rule: no switching roommates.
But that's not even the worst part.
Their room has only one bed—the double.
Aomine saunters into Kagami's bedroom. Their bedroom, whatever. Oddly, he doesn't seem nearly as bothered as Kagami by the sleeping arrangement. If anything, he doesn't seem to care at all. It kind of pisses Kagami off even more, his flippant attitude at everything.
Following suit, Kagami feels awkward. What with the convenience store trip where they both inconveniently forgot to bring their own toiletries and had to buy shampoos for the next three days (Aomine tried to get Kagami buy his, but Kagami refused, fuming, causing him to tag along), then the walk back ending sourly. And now he has to sleep on the same bed as Aomine. For three nights.
Sometimes he wonders if the universe is against him.
But as much as he despises the asshole, he's not sleeping on the floor, not with the kind of training regime they have. He'll be unnecessarily sore before the morning drills even start. So...
Kagami closes the door behind them. "Ahomine, " he calls gruffly.
Aomine's standing with his back to him. The room is dark, lights off already, but an ounce of streetlight streams into the room from the window. As Aomine takes off his shirt, the light illuminates the outlines of his shape. His back muscles flex as he tosses the shirt and scrounges around in his duffel bag for his nightclothes. He's extremely well built. Not too bulky, but strong, lean, somehow elegant. His dark skin seems to glimmer in the faint light, the softest sheen of sweat coating his dark shoulders.
Aomine turns to look at him. Kagami's eyes snap up to meet the other's.
"If you don't want to spit it out, fine, it's none of my business anyway," he starts. "But you better show tomorrow."
Aomine straightens up and blinks, slow, languid. Then he takes a step toward Kagami. A thought passes Kagami's mind—he looks like a panther. Eyes gleaming in the dark, sharply looking at him, his body sleek and deeply tanned. "Or what?"
Kagami feels like he just popped a vein. He steps forward as well, showing his teeth. "Or I'll kick your ass, you cocky bastard."
"Big talk for someone who can barely even beat me, dickwad."
That gets him. Kagami surges forward, closing the gap between them. He moves to grab the front of Aomine's shirt, but—the man's shirtless. For a second, he looks down at the space between them, then at Aomine's bare chest. Then back up at dark blue eyes, staring at him intently with an odd mix of annoyance and amusement.
Suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed, Kagami settles on lightly shoving Aomine's shoulder. Why is it that he's been getting embarrassed all the time around him, anyway? "Just fuckin' show, man," he says, gazing at the floor. "'S not everyday I get a chance to play you."
Aomine looks up and rubs the back his neck, seeming to consider it. "I never get," he says finally, "why you're always so eager to have me wipe the court with your ass."
When their eyes meet again, Kagami doesn't see malice, rather an unreadable expression in Aomine's eyes. Kagami decides to settle on, "Could be your ass this time."
There's a slight curl on the edges of Aomine's mouth. "You've been waiting to see me, huh, Bakagami." He says it like he's just found an epiphany, a breakthrough discovery.
Kagami grunts, glaring at the ceiling. "Don't get cocky, Aho."
The other man scoffs through his smile. It's hard for Kagami to pacify his own urge to smile back.
When Aomine steps back and turns, Kagami feels a twinge of disappointment in his chest, out of place.
He watches as Aomine gathers his clothes in one hand, the recently purchased 3-in-1 bodywash in the other, and a towel on his shoulder. As he goes to walk past Kagami, he stops. Without turning, he says, "I'll talk to Satsuki." Then opens the bedroom door and leaves the room.
Kagami lets out a breath.
He stretches, flexing his sore arms. His muscles ache from the whole day of training. Despite feeling sticky from the heat, he doesn't feel like showering. He strips off his shirt and starts undoing his shorts, deciding to just go to sleep before Aomine gets back to avoid maneuvering around and saying, what, good night before going to sleep? Kagami cringes a little at the thought.
"Bakagami."
Kagami jumps. "Fuck!" He whips around, seeing Aomine leaning against the doorframe.
For a second, Aomine's eyes seem to linger on his bare abdomen, pants hanging embarrassingly low on his hips, before meeting his own. "I take the right side."
Kagami stuns, needing a moment to apprehend what Aomine means by that. The other man leaves again before he could reply.
The way Aomine looked at him had an odd undertone, whatever it was. Kagami can't process why that triggered a weird twist deep in his gut, or why he felt like Aomine was being weird, or why he could swear there was a weird gleam in Aomine's deep blue eyes as they met his.
Grumbling, Kagami finishes swapping his shorts with boxers and his nice black t-shirt with a worn out one. "Weird asshole," he huffs.
He gets onto the left side of the bed, shuffles inside the thankfully thin covers suitable for the heat, and passes out like a light.
-
When Aomine gets back from the showers, he finds Kagami already sleeping, soft snores coming evenly with every rise and fall of his chest.
He looks peaceful, eyebrows smoothed out, no longer looking angry and disgruntled as he always does. For once he gets to look at Kagami's face without the other noticing—the strong set of his jaw, his squared cheekbones, the straight line of his nose. His stupid, forked eyebrows. His puffy lips slightly parted.
Aomine tells himself to snap out of it. God, the way the redhead has been on his ass about him dogging it was bad enough. And then there's the prospect of them sharing a goddamn bed barely large enough for two grown men to sleep comfortably.
Aomine lets out a little sigh as he puts his dirty clothes in a laundry bag.
It's true that he did snap at Satsuki worse than usual. It's also true that he does fear the day where she'll back off for good. And it's true that there's something bothering him. But he doesn't owe Kagami any details of the sort. Aomine wouldn't exactly call himself closed off, but he's definitely not, to the right person.
Satsuki's the right person, sort of.
Maybe he's just closed off. Whatever.
He'll talk to her.
He gives his wet hair another ruffle with his towel then tosses it on the windowsill. It falls down on top his duffel bag.
Gingerly getting on the bed as to not wake the other, Aomine slides under the covers. He watches the steady movements of Kagami's chest from the corner of his eye, letting the sound of the other's breathing fill in the silence of their room.
For some reason he can't name, it takes him a while to go to sleep.