A/N: What to say about this one? It's sort of different from my other AoKaga portrayals. I hope you like it.
They had been headed toward this moment for months, circling and testing and provoking each other, building and stoking the fire between them until it danced on the edge of eruption.
Through an untold number of not-so accidental touches and burning stares, through awkward silences and unspoken words, Kagami and Aomine had made their way here. Here to where each moan, each sigh, each slide of their bodies against each other had been preordained. The pain and pleasure. Aomine's flesh sinking into Kagami's. Open mouthed kisses. Heated whispers and soothing murmurs. Kagami's nails digging into Aomine's back. The smell of sweat and sex. The glow of love and desire. Even the squeaking of the bed. All of it had been inevitable, destined, fated the instant they had first laid eyes on each other.
It hadn't been easy, though. Denial, social custom, fear, and above all pride stood in their path, obstacles so huge other men would have found them insurmountable. But Kagami and Aomine were not like other men, and the thing between them was not mere attraction. Attraction could be controlled and ignored, even overcome. Gravity, however, could not. They had been sucked into each other's gravitational pull from the start, orbiting around each other like two giant celestial bodies that were inexorably tied together until the end of time itself. And no amount of struggling or anger or rejection could break them free.
Tension mounted, heat built, electricity crackled, growing ever stronger with each second they were together. The two became unstable, combustible, bombs full of need and desire and sexual chemistry waiting to go off. All it would take would be one, last push, one last spark to light their fuses and send them rushing headlong toward explosion.
It happened one summer night, with cicadas singing in the background and a humidity so oppressive it enveloped the town in damp, sweltering misery. Aomine and Kagami had played a game of one-on-one earlier in the day, despite the sticky, muggy air. The court they played on was ancient, the concrete broken and discolored, with sickly, brown weeds shooting up between the cracks. A split backboard and missing net completed the picture of decay. Neither cared.
Shirts soaked, hair matted, they continued their eternal battle to push themselves to the limit, to never yield but press forward, to grapple for dominion of the court against their only true rival. Teeth bared in a savage grin, eyes blazing, the pair fought hard, attacking and defending, using every skill and trick in their repertoire to come out on top. The dimpled, orange ball they wrangled over, once the only center of their universe, was a symbol now. Whoever controlled the ball had the advantage, and not just on the court. Desire and domination, submission and acceptance, confusion and heat, that ball harbored it all even as they both declined to openly acknowledge it.
The beginning of the end came with a vigorous, heated exchange. Kagami blocked Aomine's powerful shot, jumping so high in the air outsiders would swear he must possess wings to fly that far. He came down, hard and fast, muscles in his legs tensing to absorb the impact. Either the concrete was already weak in that one spot or the force of Kagami's landing was too great, but suddenly the court beneath him crumbled away. Surprise and dismay registered in his crimson eyes as he lost his footing and tumbled backward.
As quick as a cat, Aomine shot his hands out. He grabbed Kagami by the arms and yanked the red-head forward, not even attempting to moderate his strength. With a thud and a loud "oomph," Kagami slammed into the taller man. He himself was a big man, long and heavy with thick, well-defined muscles. Though Aomine managed to brace his feet, he wobbled back a few steps. After just narrowly averting one accident, Kagami had no wish to be part of another. Slipping his arms around Aomine, he placed his hands against that broad back and held steady.
Almost instantly, the duo realized their predicament. They were embracing, bodies lined together, faces so close they could count each lash above the other's eyes. A fire engine raced by, the shrill sound of the siren piercing the air. Small animals scurried away and startled birds took to the sky. Yet Aomine and Kagami, twined together on that old, decrepit court, did not hear it. Gazes locked, they stood there, the moment frozen in time, neither moving, neither speaking, as if one small move or one single word would release everything they had spent so long hiding.
Kagami finally had to breathe, his lungs starved for air. He inhaled deeply, and that one movement drew Aomine's blue eyes to his lips. The fingers on his shoulders tightened to the point of pain.
"Aomine," he whispered, the faint sound brimming with unsaid thoughts and emotions.
Aomine lowered his head, blotting out the unforgiving sun above. Kagami's eyes widened. The thunderous boom of a pounding heart reached his ears and he did not know if it belonged to him or Aomine. Maybe it was both. He closed his eyes and waited.
The action, when it finally came, was unexpected.
With a sharp curse, Aomine shoved Kagami away. Face hard, expression rigid, he stepped back. Only his eyes showed emotion, glittering hotly in his tanned face.
"We're done here," he said harshly and spun around.
Stunned, Kagami flung his hand, grabbing Aomine's shoulder. "Oi, Aomine, what's your—"
Aomine just shrugged the hand away with a grim, "Don't."
He walked stiffly to the edge of the court, grabbed his bag, and then he was gone, leaving an angry and confused Kagami standing there abandoned and alone.
Later that night, Aomine paced restlessly around his room, brooding. The nights, nights like this, were the hardest. Isolated in his room, no basketball to take his mind off things, even his precious gravure magazines unable to distract him. Kagami, Kagami, Kagami. The man's name beat a constant, rapid tattoo inside his skull. He'd been a dick earlier, and he knew it. He just couldn't bring himself to cross that line, to take that last step, and he knew why. Fear. The great and powerful Aomine, the man who had been a right asshole and coined the phrase "The only one who can beat me is me" was afraid.
Afraid of shattering their friendship and rivalry, afraid of hurting Kagami, afraid of screwing things up so badly there would be no way back.
Knowing all that, he still couldn't stop himself from picking up the phone at least half a dozen times, just wanting to hear Kagami's voice on the other end. The last time he did it, he got so pissed at himself that he hurled the phone across the room. With a disgusted sigh, he flopped down into his bed. Crossing his arms under his head, he stared blindly up at the ceiling.
Things would be so much better if he could go back to the uncaring, unfeeling bastard he once was. The thought had barely crossed his mind before Aomine sighed. Going back to that depressing, boring time wasn't an option. The only true option would be to cut off all ties with Kagami, but he couldn't, wouldn't, do that either. For all the unresolved tension and the agony of not being able to touch him, Aomine was happy when he was with Kagami, and that was something he simply refused to give up.
Exhausted from all the mental and emotional gymnastics, he closed his eyes, intent on sleep. The ringing of the doorbell interrupted his plans. He waited, assuming one of his parents would get it, but when it rang impatiently again, he remembered his family was out of town for the weekend. Glancing at the clock to check out the time, he scowled when he saw it was already eleven. Who the hell came calling at eleven at night?
Grumbling, he got out of bed and left his room. Barefooted, bare-chested, and dressed only in a pair of gray sweats, he stomped down the hall and toward the front door. If he offended whoever was pressing that stupid button repeatedly, well too bad. Maybe they shouldn't show up so damn late.
"Whaddya' want?!" he barked as soon as he opened the door, and then almost fell through the doorway when he saw who was standing there.
"Ah, sorry, I know it's late," Kagami scratched his cheek in embarrassment.
Dressed in a red tank, knee-length cargo shorts and brown sandals, he was quite possibly the most gorgeous sight Aomine had ever seen.
"Um, I brought ice cream," he held up a plastic bag bearing the logo of a nearby convenience store.
Pulse racing, Aomine schooled his features to disguise his delight at the other's appearance. Kagami coming here like this negated everything Aomine had tried to accomplish earlier, and with his body and emotions so unsettled, he didn't know if he could stop himself this time.
Leaning against the doorjamb, he folded his arms. "What are you doing here, Bakagami?"
Kagami looked down. "Like I said, I brought ice crea—," he trailed off and shook his head. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his head and met Aomine's gaze headt on. "No, that's just an excuse. You were weird earlier, and I wanted to find out why."
There he went, ripping at the chains Aomine had used to bind away his lust and desperation. Straightening, Aomine uncrossed his arms and raised his hands, gripping both sides of the doorway above him. The action made him loom over Kagami, and the expression on his face made him appear twice as threatening.
"I know you are an idiot, but you aren't that stupid," he ground out, jaw clenched. "Now, you need to leave before I do something we both regret."
He started to turn away, but Kagami stopped him.
"Wait, Aomine! We need to talk."
Pivoting back around, Aomine fisted his hand in the front of Kagami's shirt and hauled him forward.
"I don't want to talk to you, Kagami," the burning emphasis on his name made Kagami's eyes widen, "I want to fuck you. Now if you understand, I suggest you turn around and march your ass back down to the street, or I swear you will regret it."
He was doing the very thing he had promised himself not to, but it was too late. Aomine was a beast, a monster, and he could only control his animalistic urges for so long.
Aomine forgot one thing, however. Kagami was just as feral as he. Bag still in one hand, he slammed his other against Aomine's chest and shoved. Aomine stumbled back into his living room. Kagami followed, banging the door behind him.
Clearly in a rage, Kagami dropped his bag and stepped forward, invading Aomine's personal space.
"You're not the boss of me, Ahomine!" he jabbed his finger at Aomine's chest. "You don't get to tell me what I will and will not regret!"
Equally inflamed, Aomine took Kagami by the shoulders and shook him. "I'm trying to protect you, dumbass! If I let this thing between us actually happen, I could break you, break us, and I don't know that I am willing to take that chance."
Kagami's mouth opened. He closed it a second later and his eyes narrowed. Before Aomine knew what he intended, Kagami stomped on his foot. The sandal was hard and Kagami was strong, resulting in a fiery pain that lanced from his toes all the way to his spine.
While he hopped around cursing, Kagami pushed past him and walked further into the room.
"What the hell was that for?" Aomine snarled once he could speak normally again.
Without asking permission, Kagami dropped down on to Aomine's sofa. "Because you insulted me, you asshole." He glared right back.
Aomine stalked toward Kagami, careful not to put too much weight on his hurting foot. Bending over, he hooked his hands over the back of the sofa on either side of Kagami's head, effectively trapping him.
"You keep pushing me and you won't like the results," Aomine stated calmly, too calmly for his stormy expression.
The atmosphere in the room sizzled. Kagami stared up at him, his own expression defiant and angry and aroused.
"Do I seem that weak to you?" the question was followed by a hard punch to Aomine's gut, causing him to suck in a surprised, pained breath. "Regret." Smack. "Break me." Smack. "Protect me?!" Another jab. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a big boy, Aomine. I don't break easily and I damn well don't need anyone protecting me.
He lifted his fist to deliver yet another blow, but Aomine grabbed it. Kagami raised his other hand, but Aomine captured that one, too.
"Stop hitting me!" Aomine growled into Kagami's face. A wicked gleam in his eye, Kagami hiked up his knee. "Oh no you don't, you little shit!" Aomine fell on him, knocking him down onto the sofa.
They fought then, all the pent up stress and angst and anger and unfulfilled desire finally erupting out. Their wrestling was rough, almost violent. A nearby lamp was knocked over, the coffee table displaced, cushions thrown off the sofa. One of Kagami's sandals flew off and his tank top ripped down the side. Aomine fared a little worse. A bruise was already forming on his cheekbone where Kagami's elbow had connected during the tussle.
The sofa, of course, was too small to contain their frenzied brawl. In the middle of the struggle, the pair rolled and hit the floor. The impact jarred some sense into them and they stopped. Kagami ended on top with Aomine pinned beneath him. They were both breathing hard, faces flushed from their exertion, hair standing every which way.
Kagami's shorts and Aomine's sweats did nothing to hide the fact that, sometime during the fracas, they had both gotten hard.
Aomine stared up at Kagami, at that rough, masculine, beautiful face, and all the blood rushed from his head. His heart, the heart that Kagami had brought back to life, swelled, pounded, throbbed, faster and faster, until he was sure it would burst out of his chest.
Kagami stared right back, his eyes wild and flashing. Aomine's skin scalded his everywhere they touched. His anger, which had really just been an excuse, melted away, replaced by something else, something hot and deep and undeniable.
"Aomine, I …," after all this time, after all his earlier boasting, Kagami was suddenly at a loss for words, his mind completely preoccupied with the feel of their bodies pressed so intimately together.
"We can't go back from this," Aomine interjected quietly when Kagami didn't continue. "This will change everything, change us. If it doesn't work out, we can never be like we were before."
Just like that, he knew what to say. Letting all his weight settle into Aomine, letting his hands finally do what they had always wanted to to do, touch Aomine's smooth, firm, beautiful skin, he replied, "It, no we will work out. We have to. Neither of us likes to lose, right?"
Silence stretched between them until Aomine finally sighed, his body relaxing. A smile tugged at his mouth. A little, crooked half-grin that made him look years younger and somehow adorable. Not that Kagami was dumb enough to say that, not when they had just finished one fight.
"I thought I was supposed to be the confident one," Aomine murmured around that grin, sliding his hands up around Kagami's back. One hand dropped lower, just below the waist of his shorts, and a thumb lightly caressed the base of his spine.
Kagami shivered, pulse jumping at that small touch, but managed to say, "You don't have the monopoly on arrogance, you know. I'm—"
"Shut up," Aomine cut him off. "No more talking. No more waiting or hiding or running. I need you, Kagami."
The hands on his back moved up, fingers sinking into his hair. They kneaded and massaged, and it felt so awesome that Kagami feared he would start purring any minute. Instead, he forced himself to nod, letting Aomine know he understood exactly what the other man meant.
"Good." That was all Aomine said before dragging Kagami's head down.
Near the doorway, the forgotten ice cream slowly melted, but neither man noticed.