Title: BFFs.
Author: SYNdicate 930.
Summary: AU. Feelings get in the way of everything. Especially when you're BFFs, or Best Fuck Friends. And when Kaijou is subject to damage after a thunderstorm one night, things begin to heat up as Kise transfers to Touou. AoKise. YAOI.

Note: Sorry for any mistakes, and thanks for the lovely reviews and all those following this fic!

Chapter 7 – Pencils Down, Drinks Up.

Upon hearing through his fellow teammates of a mandatory meeting in the gym immediately after school during their Friday afternoon science lesson, Aomine left class at the end of the day with a groan and his bag slung over a lazy shoulder. Though he had been showing up to practice more and more often to keep an eye on Kise and glare away anyone who grew a little too friendly, that did not mean he wanted to participate in the meeting. At least during practice he would get to play as opposed to listening to whatever garbage they found important. Unfortunately for the skipper, there was no getting out of it.

As usual, Kasamatsu came by to pick up Kise shortly after the high-pitched bell rung through the grounds. From what he's learned, they always walked home together the same way Aomine would leave with Momoi when he wasn't skipping practice and going on without her, so he guessed they were probably going to the meeting together as well. The quick glance Kise spared Aomine over his shoulder as he got out of his seat did not go unnoticed, though the almost forlorn expression he bore.

Merely returning his stare with a lewd lick of his lips from the back of the room, he watched Kise hurry to the door with a deep blush, snorting at his flustered face and the way he nearly tripped over thin air. Kasamatsu caught the silent exchange and turned his attention to Aomine, his blue eyes narrowing at the power forward. But Aomine did not falter. He never faltered.

Aomine wondered if Kasamatsu was a naturally serious person, for, when he wasn't barking at the boys from his destroyed school or chiding Kise, he was the same stern person he was on the court off the court. The humorless air around the teen was thick, but the strong temptation to poke a little fun at him as a result was even thicker.

As he tossed a few textbooks into his bag, as even Aomine, notorious for the slacker he was, knew maintaining satisfactory grades in order to continue on as Touou's extraordinary ace was crucial despite his disregard for attending practices and showing up accordingly to games and their set times, he made sure to part his lips and do the same; licking his upper and lower lip, and then finishing with a lecherous bite to the corner of his bottom lip. Kasamatsu's face may have reddened considerably, but it certainly did harden dangerously, particularly so the moment Aomine smirked, a snicker falling from the power forward's lips under a careless breath as he exited through the door at the back of the classroom. The teen figured that Momoi would already be in the gym. She was very keen on arriving on time and tending to her duties as manager.

Sauntering down the busy hall, no one daring to get in his way if they knew what was good for them, girls pushed off to the walls on either side of him in their little groups, giggling and batting their long lashes at a few boys a step ahead of Aomine, who he ignored to yawn into the palm of his hand, he paced himself moderately taking his damn time. With a shrug, he decided he'd take the long way today. Being on time was never at the top of his disorganized list of priorities, and the power forward sure as Hell wasn't going to make any attempts to make it so until circumstances prove it be necessary of him.

Not to mention Momoi hadn't said any sort of word about the meeting to him during lunch that day. All she could wrap her head around was that her party would be coming up very soon—tomorrow, in fact—and that she was bursting at the seams, eager, with uncontrollable excitement after having Kuroko accept her invitation.

"The poor girl," He thought to himself, "She's fallen so hard for Tetsu. How does she ever expect herself to get better when they're around each other?"

Vaguely, Aomine wondered what was so important that a meeting was to be held. Normally, any sort of news was never too big a deal, so it was common practice amongst him and his team that information be passed around via word of mouth.

Lazily making his way down the wide set of stairs onto the main floor, he walked over to the gym. Aomine took the metal handle of the gym and pushed, listening to the soft, familiar creaking of the slowly rusting hinges, only to find the lights turned off, and the sun pouring through the high windows.

"Hello?" There was nothing but his echo. The metal door shut behind him as he looked from his left, and then to his right, confusion resting upon his brows as they furrowed. "Satsuki, you in here?"

Where in the world was the rest of the team? He couldn't have been that late—if anything, he would have missed the first ten or thirteen minutes, and usually meetings run for half an hour or more!

"Oi, anyone here?" Aomine called out for good measure, stepping further into the empty gym until he stood in its center. For a moment he waited. Maybe he came too earlier, though he doubted that; he remembered hearing that they were to be in the gym right after they were dismissed, and he had taken an inconvenient detour to assure he would be arriving late.

"Why, welcome, Aomine-kun."

Turning around with a growing frown, Aomine found Imayoshi against the wall by the doors, his arms crossed in a smug manner, smiling in that obnoxious way of his that made the skin on the his tanned arms crawl uncomfortably. "Not you again."

"If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it, Aomine-kun." Imayoshi scolds playfully, his grin widening ever so slightly under the power forward's narrowing gaze. The unsettling air that lingered around that boy never sat quite right with him. Rolling his eyes, the bottoms of his shoes moving against the wooden floor echoed through the silent gymnasium. When he was a few feet away from the door, Imayoshi moved off the wall to stand in his way.

"There is no meeting, is there?" He questioned knowingly, all the pieces of the puzzle beginning to click together.

"Eh? Since when were you this perceptive, other than when you're playing basketball of course?"

"Get out of the way. I'm going home."

"Plans to spend the evening with Kise-kun?" Imayoshi inquired, much to Aomine's annoyance, who groaned at the second year. Not this rubbish again.

It had been days and days since their encounter when he had dropped off some papers to the other boy's classroom during lunch. And since then, Imayoshi was insistent that something was going on between he and Kise.

Constantly, he would go out of his way to pry in that overly-artificial, sweet way of talking, almost as if a buddy asking his friend if there was a girl he liked. But they weren't friends, and none of the girls in the school caught his eye the way Kise's body—especially undressed and flushed—did. His assumptions that his time spent with Kise was used for sex were correct, and every other thing he had said so far, but, each and every time, Aomine would shut down his attempts at conversation and deny, deny, deny, for what proof did he really have of their sex-driven relationship?

A simple no should have sufficed, but it appeared as though Imayoshi is vastly greedier and nosy than he had expected.

"And if I said yes? What're you going to do? Pretty boy and I have known each other since middle school, played, and do play on the same team; it only makes sense that we make plans to see each other after school."

"Silly me, I wasn't aware knowing each other and being friends since middle school warranted sex."

"Sex, sex, sex," Aomine snickered condescendingly, "I never knew you were such a pervert, always talking about us having sex. You've got some weird fantasies, don't you?"

"I see you still don't understand me," He sighed, "How many times has it been already? Ten? Eleven? Twelve times I've already had to tell you?"

"And how many times do I have to you that Kise and I are just friends, who don't have sex together, you creep—"

"Regardless as to the number of times I must remind you, Aomine-kun," Interrupted Imayoshi, "it is in your best interest that you be careful with the way you treat little Kise-kun."

Aomine quirked a brow. What was there to understand? "'The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means he has a pretty face, many fans, and the capability and standing to attract even the most rigid of people."

Aomine furrowed his brows, "I already know all of that. So what—"

"So you shouldn't take him for granted. You never know when someone else will show up and steal him away."

There was a knowing glint to his glasses as Aomine shoved passed him, their shoulders knocking together as the power forward's lips curled into a frown. Letting the door slam beside him after swinging the dark metal open with a dangerously excessive amount of intentional, menacing force, he left the school grounds in irritation. Aomine wasn't the type to share very much, and like Hell was he going to let the four-eyed bastard lay a hand on his pretty boy, his ever pretty toy.

Meanwhile, Kise arrived home to his plainly decorated apartment. Since he was only living out by himself so the distance between he and his new school wouldn't be too much of a burden upon his already heavy shoulders, he hadn't given much thought as to what to do with the place. Alone, he didn't have many belongings aside from his extensive wardrobe and beauty products, anyway. Because of his parents' refusal to leave the lovely home they've lived in since their beautiful baby boy was born, they did not mind one bit sending Kise away for school, even if he would be on his own. With his parents back home in Kanagawa, Kise supported himself with the large amounts of money he had earned through all of his modelling and cheques his parents promised to hand him when they would visit.

"Okay, okay, don't worry too much, mom," Kise said, balancing his cellphone between his ear and shoulder, "I'm fine, school's been fine, and so has living alone. I'm sorry for not letting you visit me a lot; I'm either at school, at work, or studying. Yeah, I'll try to eat healthy. I love you too, mom, see you soon."

After hanging up, Kise, who sat in his small living, notebook open on his lap, determined to study and achieve higher marks in hopes that they would make a certain block-headed power forward come to notice him more. Though the sex was great and occurred at a rate so fast just the thought sent waves of shivers down his spine, Kise knew their relationship—if one would even call it that, though he wished he could—was unhealthy to its very core, and this fact had never completely left his mind ever since it had begun.

Buzz. Buzz.

A text.

oi i know you're not working later, i'll be over in a bit

It was from Aomine.

Kise sighed despite the excited stir in the pit of his stomach and immediate rush of girlish enthusiasm surging through his veins in a frenzy at the thought of seeing someone so dear to him. Sometimes he would wonder if this was the best decision, but he could never come to an actual conclusion. As much as he liked being around him and being able to touch someone he had wanted for so long so freely and be touched, the lack of affection and sincerity behind their every meeting was horribly bitter. It never failed to leave an awful taste in his mouth.

Not to mention Kasamatsu had grown increasingly apprehensive and cautious of him and Aomine. Every day he would interrogate Kise, but to no avail. Kise was as determined to keep things a secret as Aomine was, though, for reasons that differed greatly and painfully. But it was his fault, for it was the blonde who picked the teen up during that rainy summer's day, and accept, when he was much too stubborn and blinded, by the butterflies he set off in his stomach every time he was within his reach, to refuse, what he thought would make Aomine love Kise as he did him.

But what they did together behind heavily closed doors was anything but the romantic dream Kise had been expecting. There was no love, just the movement of two sweat-slicked bodies and powerful lust that had them clawing at each other's flushed skin for more and more; for that sinful release through the mutual, consensual use of each other's young bodies. Buzz. Buzz.

His phone went off a second time.

i'm just a few blocks away, you better be ready to let me in. i don't feel like waiting for you today

Kise made no attempt in repressing a short tremble.


Lights flashed left and right while the rhythmic 'boom' of the bass shook the walls of Momoi's two-story house at 11:21 PM. Before anyone could have prepared themselves for the night that awaited them, Saturday had arrived, and it was already time to celebrate a certain manager's birthday. The otherwise laundry and perfume smelling home reeked of alcohol, perfume, and cologne, the strange scent dancing across Aomine's senses, strong, and pungent, the bitter-sweet of his mixed drink—ah, the underage and their drinks!—having yet to disable any of his senses, his head still firmly planted upon his broad shoulders that leaned into the vibrating wall as he eyed the makeshift dance-floor.

He squinted his eyes through the darkness only alleviated by the flashing lights Momoi had rented a few days back. After days of silent dreading, it appeared as though he had no more time between the day he was invited to Momoi's party, and the party itself; oh, had he been dreading it so!

While he loved her the way he would if he had been blessed with a little sister, it was virtually impossible for someone like Aomine to care for someone selflessly; she had as many faults as he, though, hers were nowhere near as blatant, subtle to a fault, if you will, to the point where he found himself having to bark at the few boys beside him for whispering crude things about her as she danced along to the music with some girls he remembered seeing around school, who, Aomine duly noted, could not compare to her bubbly, extraverted beauty, the charm that she possessed and she alone.

The boys nearly jumped out of their flushed skin, a poor teen in a red shirt choking on his beer while he friend, a boy in faded jeans and a hoodie, patted him on the back. No one was ever to talk like that about her; not even him.

While cumbersome and unbearably noisy and hot, he knew it was his duty to be present at one of the most special days of the year. Since they were young, barely able to write their own names in kanji or sleep at night without the yellowish glare of his race car nightlight he received one evening from his lovely mother, her familiar face framed with soft locks that fell past her fragile shoulders, a smile so endearing it warmed the heart of one as heartless as he, Momoi spent every birthday with him, so, he figured, he must do the same, or it would plague his mind for not having been reliable to such a precious friend.

Though, there were two parties he had to attend to: one with her family—her sweet mother and father who loved and spoiled her with such affection and care, and, if they were able to make it from outside of their respective prefectures, aunts, uncles, and cousins—and the other of sorts one would come across while watching a movie—filled to the brim with all the little things parents warn their adolescent darlings about, with all the alcohol, music, tonsil hockey and touching.

Aomine thought he would skip the latter and make it for the one that really mattered, but, as his luck would have it, he did not want to risk upsetting her with his selfish absence. Not to mention it was his job to keep perverts, like the boys a few feet away at to his side, from getting anywhere near her.

Scanning the flashing dance floor, the furniture pushed off to the side to make way for all the boys and girls stepping and twisting and grinding with each other here and there to the rhythm of a steady base, he tried to pick out any familiar faces in hopes of finding someone to kill time with while she tended to her guests and other friends. If he was going to get drunk at her party, he thought, "Might as well get drunk with someone."

Suddenly, the door bust open, and more guests piled in through the narrow doorway. Aomine recognized one of them to be Kise, who was dressed as nicely as ever in a long grey cardigan, deliciously tight white V-neck, black skinny jeans Aomine had always admired for hugging him in all the right places, and lengthy scarf wrapped around his neck.

For a moment, he stopped at the doorway, gold eyes in search of their target, shifting to his left and then to his right, looking nervous, like a little boy lost after straying too far from his mother and father, as a group of boys brushed past him, drunk and shouting God knew what over the music at each other, before landing on Aomine.

Awkwardly shuffling his way through the sea of drunken dancers that separated them, mumbling small apologies at those he bumped into and those who were politely turned down after having been asked to dance with them, the model arrived by his dearest's side. Aomine, glad there was at least someone he could drink with, shifted against the wall, and reached down into the cooler beside him to pull out a can of beer, to which Kise stared at, as if foreign to his innocent eyes. "Well, aren't you going to take it?"

Insert a brief pause. "Eh?"

"The beer. You taking it or not?"

There was a purse in Kise's lips as he wavered between accepting and declining. His hands shook in his pockets, "Thanks, Aominecchi, but I don't drink."

Aomine snorted and took a sip of his own mixed concoction, compliments of the rowdy boys drinking their brain's into permanent sleep in the kitchen. He tossed the icy can into the blonde's chest regardless, who fumbled with it before catching his drink in his hands. Aomine sighed as he pulled his glass away from his lips, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "C'mon, a drink isn't going to kill you, pretty boy."

Sighing, Kise reached to pull the cap off his beer with a nervous chuckle, "Haha, Aominecchi's right. One beer isn't going to hurt me, now is it?"

And he was right. One beer didn't hurt, but five certainly did the trick, and the alcohol had Kise loosening up considerably.

As expected from the ever famous Kise Ryouta, the boy wasn't an experienced drinker or very much used to dealing with alcohol. His words were strung together to the point where he was nearly incoherent through the raucous music, and his face was so red the blush flaring across his pale cheeks made something in the pit of the power forward's stomach stir in laughter; he looked so adorably vulnerable, how he wanted to ravish him so!

While Aomine had been intending and creating plans in his mind's eye on how to leave Kise alone and without the boy running after him, he realized how many people would take Kise away the moment he was gone and do what knows to him. Kise belonged to Aomine, and he wasn't very fond of someone playing with what was his, especially with Imayoshi floating around after their conversation just the other day.

Arm around Kise's waist, who wrapped an arm around Aomine's broad shoulders, dragging his feet against the wooden floor with a smile, the power forward helped him over to a nearby couch. In a mirthful daze lined with an absent-mindedness that had his gold eyes appearing just a tad vacant in the sense that he was so unaware of his actions and words, he would surly regret the night the moment he woke up the following morning, he caught sight of the couple sitting on the other end of the couch as he fell into place atop the cushion between Aomine's arm and the couch's arm.

The way they kissed vigorously, tongues moving in time together as their hands groped and felt their partner's body, tugging at their clothes desperately, uncaring and oblivious to lingering gazes.

The wanton sight of lovers sprouted an idea in the model's head. Maybe he and Aomine should do that as well. Lifting up his feet, he dropped his legs onto Aomine's lap. He looked down at Kise's thighs over top his own with furrowed brows. "Oi, Kise, get your legs off of me," Aomine made a move to push them off, but Kise kept still, his back resting against the arm of Momoi's couch, with a wide grin. "Now what's with that look?"

"I was just—" Kise was cut off by the abrupt feeling of bile rising in his throat. He brought a hand to his mouth and was escorted up the narrow stair case to the bathroom by Aomine, a hand around the model's waist, though drifting lower and lower the further away they were from unknowing eyes in Momoi's dark, upstairs' hallway. They were the only two on the upper floor as bedrooms were out of bounds in Momoi's books. Aomine couldn't help but not how slack her parents were about this party—they even offered to stay over at a family friend's house just a few blocks away so they would not interfere.

"'m fine, 'm not goin' to throw up." Slurred Kise, as Aomine opened the bathroom door. "False alarm."

"Good," was Aomine's only reply as he released the drunken figure to press him against the door opposite of the rather spacious bathroom. In the darkness, lit faintly by the hallway window to Kise's right, they kissed so fiercely, he almost mistook the over-flowing, teenage lust for genuine passion.

As the floor under them throbbed with the music and cheers from the living room and party below, they grinded their chiselled bodies together as they clawed at each other's muscles through each other's clothes, desire growing rapidly in the front of their pants as Kise brought a leg to wrap around the power forward's waist. "I want you right now," he growled into Kise's ear.

Aomine pulled Kise's scarf and threw the expensive fabric to the hallway floor to pepper kisses along the latter's exposed throat and collar bones. Kise sighed in pleasure, "Hah… We're at a party, though, what d'you want me t'do abou' it now?"

Using the hand he had on Kise's hip, Aomine lifted Kise's other leg to hook around his hips. The drunken boy's arms circled Aomine's neck instinctively as the latter opened the door he had been shoved and humped against to reveal a quaint guest room Momoi reserved for whatever her beloved best friend would sleep over. Said best friend dropped the blonde atop the neatly done bed, reaching down to unbuckle his dark belt as he climbed onto the mattress.

Kise could hear his heart pounding in his ears—though that may have been the music from below—and felt its swift throbbing in his dry throat. Blood was rushing to his face and crotch instantaneously.

Behind Kise was a large window with its long drapes out of its way, permitting the cold light of the moon just outside to enter without trouble, and he licked his lips at the dominance Aomine exuded, the way his muscular upper body and arms looked in the pale moonlight as he peeled off his shirt making his shiver wantonly. Aomine tore the blonde's bottoms off quickly—in the blink of an inebriated eye—and was welcomed by the ease he found in spreading those long, pale legs.

"And now we're in a bedroom," Kise gulped at look in those deep, navy irises, and crooked quirk of his smirking lips as a tanned hand pinched his nipple through the fabric of his thin v-neck, eliciting a breathy moan, and then moved to find its place on the inside of his sensitive thigh, accidentally brushing against his uncovered and twitching erection, "what do you want me to do to you now?"