Fandom: Kuroko no Basket
Rating: K+
Pairing: Aomine Daiki x Kise Ryouta [AoKise]
Warning: Boy/Boy. Grammatical and spelling mistakes. Possible OOC. Un-beta'd. Cliché. CHEESY. Fluff. Bold and italics indicate them recalling back to the memories... if that makes sense LOL.
Word Count: 6579 words
A/N: Eeee I just had to get this idea out! I thought it was very sweet, but I didn't expect it to be so damn cheesy! Oops! Sorry in advance, but I really hope you enjoy! This is for 6/8 day because yes, I love this ship too much ;u; Bless all these AoKise tribute days; I am too grateful for all the beautiful works and art that come on these days, yes. So I hope you enjoy my contribution to this day too! I had a blast writing this. And BOY, I did not expect it to be this long! OOPS.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basket. Clearly belongs to Fujimaki Tadatoshi.
Dedication: To all the AoKise shippers out there! Please enjoy, and leave me a review if you can? Remember to favourite if you liked it! :)

Summary: He was always his first: first challenge, first playful enemy, first love. In the end, he will always be his first and last of everything.

- You're My First and Last -

He was the first to introduce me to basketball.

His world is beginning to slow; like time is coming to a tortuous halt, and he can do nothing but find himself encased in this time lapse. He is trapped; slowly, and surely, he is finding himself sinking deeper and deeper.

Whatever he wants to do, whatever he wants to achieve, he will—and everything will become boring once again. Entertainment cannot last him; sports will only become a nuisance for him because of his talent; his ability to copy skills so easily.

Suddenly, a yelp escapes the boy's lips, breaking him from his thoughts, as he turns around, his face fuming with anger as he angrily throws the orange ball that came into contact with the back of his head to its owner. The owner catches it without any hesitation, only widening his smile as he approaches the injured blonde.

"Sorry, sorry!"

The apology sounds insincere, but his anger - his frustration - soon vanishes, as he stands up straight, still rubbing his head from the harsh, abrupt contact, but he doesn't have the nerve to be angry anymore. He is mesmerized with the boy's smile; there is a strange glow around him that simply attracts him to the other, as he apologizes once again for hitting him with the ball, before returning back to the gym.

Without further ado, the blonde follows his steps—there is something about that boy; something about that glow that keeps him intrigued; wanting to know more. For once, he is interested in something; for once, he feels he can gain something if he just follows the boy for a few seconds longer.

When he reaches the front of the gymnasium, his eyes widen with not only shock, but also admiration. The boy from before is now accompanied with a few other individuals, but those amber eyes continue to focus only on him, as if he is the only one in the room. His short dark blue hair glimmers against the light as he passes all his opponents with swift, easy movements, like he is used to performing such tasks, and within seconds, he dunks the ball into the basket with ease.

He only watches from afar, until the boy's dark blue orbs come into contact with his, and he jumps, startled and embarrassed; he is certain that he has a longing look in his eyes—a look of pure respect and awe.

"What are you doing here?"

Suddenly, the time in his world begins to resume, and he feels himself bottling up with excitement - butterflies in his stomach - as he eagerly approaches the boy, grasping his calloused hands. Finally, after all this time, he is feeling alive again, like he found something he would be interested in; something that would surely keep his world spinning.

"Can I join the basketball club?!"

This is when it all began.

He was the first person I constantly yelled at.

There is something Aomine knows—and that is his low level of tolerance. He can't stand overly happy, excited people or individuals who constantly cling onto others, but when he looks at a certain blonde – a newbie – in the club, he can't keep his eyes off him. He doesn't feel disgusted when the blonde stares at him with hopeful, glimmering eyes; isn't irritated when he clings onto his arm; isn't annoyed by the constant bright glow emitting around his body as he calls his name. Aomine isn't even the least bit bothered by how the blonde is constantly smiling, attracting others—he finds himself staring at the blonde when he isn't focused on basketball.

This is something he doesn't understand—he doesn't know why, but instead of approaching the boy in a polite manner, in a way he approaches all his other teammates with a smile and a pat on the back, he finds himself snapping at the boy. His body reacts on its own, his mind deciding to threaten the boy, to push him farther and farther away.

Perhaps it is because the boy doesn't back down; he doesn't weaken or falter even after he shows his temper. Instead, Kise tries to approach the boy even more, follows after him like a little puppy following its owner, and Aomine can't help but smirk at how much this boy admires him; how much he values him as a teammate.

By pushing him farther away, Kise comes closer and closer, and the two begin to form a bond; Aomine yells, throws him aside, makes foolish and meaningless remarks, but Kise continues to wag his tail, continues to follow him—regardless of his attitude. He's touched, honestly he can't believe he has this much of an effect on the blonde.

It's funny, because Aomine never enjoys followers; never likes people who follow others, who are dependent on others, but when he sees Kise, he is just too interested, too amused with the boy's reactions, to find himself angry at him, to find himself frustrated. He believes Kise knows his temper is just for show; that he really isn't angry or annoyed at him.

Maybe that's why he is always following after him, unaffected by his attitude, because deep down, he knows it's only a cover-up.

"Why are you constantly following me?!"

The only reaction Kise offers the power forward is a smile, a charming smile that sends his heart fluttering, "Because Aominecchi is amazing!"

He scoffs, but continues to walk a few steps ahead of the blonde, hearing the footsteps that follow after him, in hopes of catching up.

He pretends he's angry, because the blonde follows him more, refusing to let him out of his sight, and his heart speeds, knowing there is minimal distance separating the two.

He was the first person I ever respected.

It doesn't make sense to him; it doesn't make sense how someone so talented is in front of him; is present in his life; is making his world go round again.

He doesn't understand how someone so special, so talented, can be in the same room as him; can motivate him to try harder; can influence him this much.

This is all too surreal – unbelievable – a far away dream. He remembers a time not too long ago when he wished for an opponent, where he wished for someone to randomly pop into his life and pose as a challenge; wished for someone to come and entertain him; to swoop him off his feet and make his world brighter.

He stares at the boy, their ace, their power forward, grinning and laughing as sweat falls down his face. Regardless of the vigorous training, this boy continues to shine, continues to improve, and never gives up. He is aware that this boy is strong, so strong that he strives to be like him—to be this talented in a sport.

Aomine is someone he wants to become, someone who enjoys playing a sport and continues to smile regardless of his bottomless talent, that he obviously excels above others. He watches the blue-haired boy dunk another ball into the basket, easily surpassing his opponents and laughs above them; his hands on the rim of the basket as he continues to hang.

Kise can't help but chuckle; the sight of seeing Aomine, of seeing his toned arms hanging from the rim, seeing his wide grin as his laugh echoes throughout the gymnasium—laughs as his teammates stare at him from below. He is stalling time, acting like a monkey, but they don't make a move to bring him down, simply letting him hang.


The boy breaks from his thoughts, breaking his gaze from the boy he loves watching, and clumsily catches the ball that is passed to him. Without any hesitation, he dunks the ball in a similar function of the boy he admires. Like he, the boy finds himself hanging on the rims, his body dangling above his teammates and he smiles below them, a bright glow around him as he realizes things look different from up above.

This must be what the other is looking at; he thinks, as he continues to observe from above. Being this high from the ground makes everyone not only look tinier, but he feels superior; he feels invincible—and thinks: he is standing at the same view from the one he admires.

He looks to the other side of the court and notices blue orbs are watching him; watching in a way he did moments before. They lock gazes - amber against blue - and not before long, a wide grin spreads on both their faces as they realize they are hanging exactly the same; they are both towering above their teammates.

Their teammates break their gaze, calling their names and ordering them to release their hold on the rims, and they do—it's time to resume the game, they both think. Before they continue their matches, Kise directs his gaze towards the power forward once more, and stares in awe, watching the figure retreat back to his teammates for another round.

This is the boy he respects and strives to become; the boy who changed his world; the boy he shared a bond with seconds before. Somehow, he feels he is slowly approaching a level where he can compare himself with the other, and believes maybe, one day, he will be an appropriate match for him.

He didn't know that this feeling of respect would morph into something stronger, one day.

He was the first person I enjoyed teasing.

"Oi, Kise."

The blonde immediately turns around, his eyes brightening upon hearing Aomine call for him, a gleeful look in his eyes. He tilts his head to the side, as he casually slows his pace where he walks side-by-side with the power forward; the two taking a stroll around the school ground as they wait for their teammates to finish cleaning up the gymnasium before going to the convenience store. Kise wonders why Aomine calls for him; usually it's the other way around, but he enjoys hearing the other call him—it's a nice and pleasant change; it makes him feel closer to the boy.

Dark blue orbs stare at him in silence, as if contemplating what to say next, and the silence really bothers Kise, makes him rather uncomfortable, as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. It is the silence mixed with the intense gaze Aomine gives him that makes him uncomfortable, that makes him squirm—because he can't stand having the one he respects staring at him to keenly, like he's reading his thoughts, his body's reactions.

Before he has a chance to ask Aomine what is wrong, the boy speaks. In a monotone, he points to Kise's shoulder and says, "There's a bug on you."

Instantly, the blonde jumps, screaming before launching forward, wrapping his arms around Aomine's neck and nuzzling his face into his chest. He is trembling; his body shivering knowing there is a bug, a small little insect that is more intimidated by him, somewhere on his body.

There is a low rumble, something resembling a chuckle, that escapes Aomine's lips before he reaches over and flicks the bug away; his other arm wraps around Kise's torso to steady the two from falling over.

He is aware that the blonde is petrified of bugs—something he doesn't quite understand since he knows bugs are harmless creatures and honestly, they are more likely to fear them than the other way around, but he doesn't say this to the blonde. In fact, little does the blonde knows, he had strategically placed the bug on his shoulder, just so he could feel those warm, slender arms wrap around his neck; just so he could pretend to defend the boy from his fear.

Kise continues to tremble, refusing to sneak a peek at his shoulder to see if the bug is still present. Instead, he looks at Aomine with hopeful eyes, his amber orbs staring, pleading, at the other in hopes that he has removed the bug from his body. "I- Is it gone?"

Aomine observes those amber eyes, watching to see if he should lie some more and say the bug is still on his shoulder, but he knows this is all he can do; he knows he can't hold onto the blonde any longer. He withdraws, and Kise continues to stare at him with frightened, wide eyes; scared to find out whether Aomine managed to brush the bug away.

"Yeah, it's gone."

These childish actions – these playful teases – are nothing more than a hidden scheme to get closer and closer to the boy.

He was my first challenge.

"One more time!"

The words would escape his lips before he has a chance to even think about it; before he has a chance to recollect his thoughts and think of another way to convince the boy in front of him for another round. He vows to win; he swears one day he will win against the boy he respects.

A laugh breaks his thoughts, as Aomine dribbles the ball around his fallen figure, grinning madly before doing a quick lay-up. Kise only watches, panting heavily as he tries to regain his breath, tries to show the boy that he can go for another round—he just needs to wait. Eventually, he will catch up; he will be a strong opponent for him.

"We have already played three rounds! Maybe it's time to call it quits, yeah?" Aomine calls from the other side of the court. Kise doesn't understand how he's not tired, how he continues to be so full of spirit, but he continues to admire from afar. He still can't reach the male's expectations, still can't compare himself to his talent. Despite losing, he feels motivated; feels stronger; feels energized.

He wants to go for another round, even though he knows what the outcome will be, but he can't help himself—this boy is too talented, too special, and he wants to be just like him. For years, he has never felt this ambition, this feeling to strive and exceed someone.

For years, he has been waiting for this moment—a challenge. And he can't help but wish for more; to cherish the moments and watch as the one he respects, the one he wishes to be, gives him the privilege; to play against.

"Please, one more time!"

There is a desperate tone in his voice; he is begging, he knows he is begging the male to continue granting him this privilege, this opportunity. He can't stop smiling, can't stop playing against this boy, because he knows if he stops, his world will return back to its original state; returning to a slow and dull stop.

Aomine only offers a headshake, before tossing the ball towards Kise, in which the blonde furrows his eyebrows in confusion and disappointment as he instinctively catches it. He hears footsteps heading towards the doors and he knows the boy is going to collect his belongings, going to head home.

However, instead of hearing the footsteps leave the gymnasium, he sees a water bottle outstretched in front of him, and instantly glances up, where blue orbs mock at his fallen form, and a smirk is on the boy's face.

"Didn't you say you want to play another round? Drink water first."

A rush of relief washes over him as he smiles, nodding his head viciously as he takes large sips from the water bottle before standing up to play another round of basketball. This is too perfect, he thinks, as the two run back and forth from the court, attempting to score points off one another.

His world continues to spin.

He was the first to change my life.

Aomine doesn't understand.

When he sees Kise in front of him, wearing that white and blue jersey of Kaijou's, he sees someone different—he doesn't see the boy who once followed him everywhere. Instead, he sees someone stronger; someone independent; someone who vows to surpass; someone motivated to succeed. He sees-

A challenge.

There is something in him that sparks; something he believes he lost months ago. But suddenly, he feels himself trying his best, trying to catch up to the blonde. Somehow, he senses there is something the blonde is planning, but he can't pinpoint exactly what it is, and it makes him anxious.

Years ago, he could read all the moves of the blonde, could read when he was going strike, what moves he was going to pull against him, but now – now – he sees someone who is spontaneous, who acts on his own accord, and no longer needs his guidance.

When the second half begins, the anxious feeling in his stomach begins to strengthen and he can't help but occupy his mind with thoughts about the blonde, thoughts about what changed, what caused the blonde to say such words to him earlier in the match.

"I'll quit admiring you."

Those four words do not leave his mind, continuously repeating over and over in his head as his body subconsciously handling the ball and scoring the points. He keeps his eyes on Kise, watching the blonde's every move and refuses to avert his gaze; refuses to lose to the blonde.

When the bell indicating the match is over, with a score that favours his team, he watches, as the blonde falls to the floor, shaking and biting back the tears but he can't. There is a mixture of tears and sweat that trickles down his face, and Aomine wants to stroll over there and comfort him, console and offer the boy a word of acknowledgement—a word of gratitude.

He may not know it, but Kise helps him discover his passion again for the sport, finally igniting that flame within him. After all these years, he offers him a strong challenge, one where he puts all his strength into because he knows they are both trying their hardest; they do not want to disappoint each other; and he refuses to disgrace the blonde by doing his best.

His teammates watch him as he passes them, the captain calling out to him. "You're not going to help him?"

"To someone who has lost after trying his best, no words from the winner can console him!"

Those aren't true—he wants to bite back those words, but they escape him, and he knows. He knows if he stays any longer, if he watches the blonde's tears fall any longer, he will not only offer him words of acknowledgement, but he will show the feelings he has been bottling up for years—the feelings stronger than friendship.

He doesn't say anything more, simply leaving the stadium, never intending to look back; in fear of watching that boy, the boy he spent every day playing one-on-ones with in middle school, cry because of him.

However, he's grateful—mentally, he thanks the blonde, for igniting the passion he thought he once lost, and looks up. Perhaps one day, they can return to their old selves, and play one-on-ones again.

Just like in the past.

He is falling deeper and deeper in a hole of solitude, unable to find the strength, the motivation, to play the sport he once loved. But it is thanks to him, he feels determined to try his best; to try playing the sport he loved once more with full spirit—he gave him strength.

He was the first person I gave my heart to.

He doesn't know what causes him to react like this but he does. There is something within him; something that triggers after their match together that causes him to approach him.

As he stands in front of Touou, waiting for that one boy to show up, he begins to feel restless. He doesn't even offer a smile, any recognition, to the numerous girls who pass him—they know who he is, he feels their eyes on him, but he doesn't do anything; doesn't bother.

There's too much on his mind, too many inner conflicts that leave him wondering if he should really be here. He's experienced this many times—a confession. But he is never the one to initiate it, never the one who expresses his feelings.

However, after that match, he feels he needs to make amends, feels like he needs to do something to return as friends, perhaps even more.

Something in his stomach twist and turns—nerves perhaps? He's feeling giddy, anxious, and uneasy, but he remains in his spot, simply waiting to see when he will spot the blue hair, the broad shoulders, the back he has been watching and following for years.

To his right, he hears a familiar high-pitched voice, lecturing the other beside her, and the butterflies in his stomach begin to fly viciously, his instincts telling him now is the time; now is the time for change.

His assumptions are confirmed, the butterflies fluttering and his heart racing like mad, when he hears the low, lazy voice of another—one he remembers well enough because it is the voice of the one who he respects, who challenges him, who makes him better, who made his world spin again—it is the voice of the male who leaves him breathless, leaves his heart pounding against his chest.

It is the voice of the boy he feels helplessly bound to.


His voice echoes throughout the school grounds, catching the attention of all the students in the surrounding area and he knows they are staring, he knows there are people wondering why he is calling for him but he doesn't care; doesn't even notice.

Because all he wants is those blue orbs to notice, to look him in the eyes, to see that he is there—for him.

Those eyes stare at him with first shock, then disbelief, before shifting into pure relief—as if he, too, has wanted to speak with him, to make amends.

They leave the area; his childhood friend has left to give the two privacy and Aomine guides Kise to a quiet, secluded park, where, for two years, begin to speak. Everything turns out perfectly fine in the beginning—both talk about their school lives, before Kise brings up a topic he knows that sends his heart pounding fiercely against his chest.

He wants to confess, but waits, and decides to ask Aomine if they can return to friends; if they can play one-on-ones again; if it can return to the past.

His strength, his determination, his heart plummets when he sees the other shake his head, holding his hands together and refusing to stare at those amber eyes that looked so hopeful, that gleamed with optimism.

"Not to the past—no." Before Kise even has a chance to respond, to ask why, he feels intense eyes stare into his, before averting their gaze. "How am I supposed to return to friends when all I want is to kiss you?"

The words come out soft, like a whisper, probably something Aomine didn't want to say aloud but couldn't control it.

Kise lets out a chuckle, covering his eyes with his hands, shaking his head. It isn't supposed to be like this, he thinks—he is supposed to confess first, not Aomine.

When he hears Aomine stand from his seat on the bench, he instantly perks up and watches that retreating form. He hears it – the soft, muffled apology – and realizes he has yet to express his feelings. He doesn't have time—the figure is already disappearing from his sight, disappearing once again from his hands.

"I like you!"

The retreating form immediately comes to a halt, and Kise is certain the other heard. He says something else, a little softer this time because he knows the other will still hear him.

"And I want to kiss you too."

There's not a moment to lose and he feels lips press against his, lips he has been dreaming to kiss for years, and now it's finally happened. He isn't sure how long they kiss, but he doesn't care, because finally – finally – things are going for the better.

"You know you're mine now, right?"

Kise chuckles, wrapping his arms around the other's neck, so he can bring the boy closer to him as they share another kiss. "Same goes for you."

Both their worlds brighten once more.

He was the first I wanted to protect.

His knuckles are burning, as he delivers one last blow to the other's cheek before feeling the anger in his system calm down; he doesn't care, doesn't even flinch when he sees the other scurry off, threatening to report him to the police, because no one touches Kise—no one hurts the one he cherishes the most.

He feels a warm hand reach over to his uninjured hand – hesitant, but manages to wrap his fingers around his – and he turns, to where he faces his boyfriend, staring at him with wide, bewildered amber eyes, as if he is shocked to see such a sight in front of him. Those slender fingers soon reach to his side where they caress his calloused fingers, before trailing upwards where they trace his bruised knuckles.

Upon contact, he winces, but remains perfectly still, letting Kise brush his fingers against his knuckles, where he feels soft fingers gently touch his wounds before lifting his hand up. Within seconds, Kise brings his wounded knuckles to his lips, pressing them to kiss away his pain—it's cliché, because his knuckles are still throbbing from the pain, but he appreciates the thought – appreciates the gesture – and smiles.

Before he has a chance to treasure the moment, there's a pat on his head, and he opens his eyes to see Kise, pouting and glaring those amber eyes towards him; he frowns, retreating his hand and knows very well his boyfriend isn't pleased with how he treated his offender.

"You didn't have to take it that far, Aominecchi."

The boy scoffs, glaring to the side and refuses to meet Kise's gaze; refuses to look at the blonde because really, he had to show that bastard that Kise is his, and no one else can touch him. He feels the anger from before returning, not towards Kise, but towards everyone who has hurt him in the past, including himself.

He hates how uncontrollable his temper is whenever this boy is around him, but he can't help it; can't control it—because he cares for him too much. Throughout the years, he never realized how much one person could mean so much to him, but now, walking alongside Kise, dating him, kissing him, protecting him—he realizes just how special, how important, this person is.

A warm hand manages to entwine their fingers together again, and he feels the anger in him vanishing, replaced by affection and comfort, and he smiles. The two continue on their way, walking in silence as they enjoy each other's company. It isn't until the silence is broken with a soft chuckle escaping from Kise's pink lips that Aomine turns to look at the boy.

"But I have to admit, Aominecchi was so cool back there."

And he only tightens his hold on the fingers of the one he adores.

He will always be there for him.

He was the first person I told all my secrets to.

There isn't a thing Aomine keeps a secret from Kise—all his positive, and negative, traits, he lets the male see them all. His past—he gladly tells the other when he asks. He is almost certain that Kise tells him everything too; the blonde tells him everything about his family, about his past, about his insecurities; his struggles. He is confident that their relationship is like an open book; there are absolutely no secrets.

It is when he goes over one day to Kise's, and the blonde is preparing a snack for them both, he stumbles upon a photo album. The album is different from what the blonde usually shows him; no nice magazine covers, no words written on the front—just a simple brown book.

"Aominecchi, sorry I took so long. There's not a lot of food…" Kise leaves his sentence unfinished as he freezes by the door, his hand on the handle as a bright scarlet blush travels up his cheeks. The second he enters his room, he sees Aomine, cross-legged on his bed, flipping through a photo album he keeps to himself.

There are reasons why he keeps that album private, because there are too many embarrassing photos in it, but it's too late now; Aomine has flipped through the middle of it and he is positive the power forward has looked through the majority of the photos.

A sly, mischievous grin spreads on Aomine's lips as he leans on his hand, watching Kise struggle and shift awkwardly in his spot, but he glances down at the album once again and flips through the pages. Photos of Kise as a child, dressed in a pink dress with his hair tied in two short, low pigtails are present, as well as recent photos of both him and Kise together and then a few photos of Kise taking self-portraits in Aomine's jersey. He only manages to see a couple photos of Kise making silly faces at the camera with his Touou jersey before the blonde scrambles over, and steals the album from him.

"T- That's enough!" He struggles to be strong, his face still heating up as he tries to hide the album by tucking it behind him, but Aomine stands, and corners the boy, trapping him in between his arms.

He leans towards his ear, where he knows the blonde is most sensitive and sees even the tips are glowing with a tint of red, and he smirks—sometimes his boyfriend is just too cute and he can't control himself.

"You know, I thought you were pretty cute in that pink dress—very passable as a girl. But-"—His voice lowers into that sexy, husky tone that sends Kise's heart racing—"You looked damn hot in my jersey."

Kise widens his amber eyes, the blush brightening on his ears, as he lowers his guard, giving Aomine the chance to snatch the album back to his hands and rushes back to the bed where he begins peering through all the photos once more.

"A- A- Aominecchi!" The blonde cries, jumping on his back and fighting for the album, but Aomine throws it behind his head, and reverses their positions where Kise is lying on the bed with Aomine towering over him.

The power forward has a strong grip on the other's wrists, pinning him to the bed as he leans forward, pressing his lips to silence the boy from complaining once more and Kise weakens against his kiss, stopping completely and simply lets Aomine take control.

He has no secrets to hide anymore.

He was the first person I moved in with.

There is a sudden crash and Kise frowns. Not long after, he hears a low voice, muttering profanities, and he makes his way over to the kitchen where he sees his boyfriend picking up the broken pieces of what remains of his sister's gift.

"Nee-san is going to kill you for breaking her set of plates. They were brand new too."

Aomine curses some more, as he receives a small cut from the shattered pieces. Kise sighs, bending down where he grabs the male's hand and inspects the wound before looking at those blue orbs with dissatisfaction. Those blue orbs are looking back at him with annoyance and exasperation, as he retreats his hand, and sucks on his finger, attempting to stop the bleeding.

"Daikicchi, don't do that." Kise reaches for his hand again, and stands, running the bleeding finger through cold water and in the corner of his eye, he sees the male flinch from the sting. A sigh escapes his lips as he squeezes the finger, watching the blood ooze out, "You shouldn't have picked those shards up bare handed."

There is a scoff, and he is certain his other half regrets not getting the dustpan, but they are still in the midst of unpacking and it is packed somewhere with Kise's belongings.

Amber eyes look at the broken pieces before offering a small smile towards Aomine, his lips pressing down on his wound as he says, "I'll clean it up when I find the dustpan later. Why don't you start assembling the couch?"

The blonde passes the other, disheartened that his sister's gift is broken but knows it is an accident, but he stops when he feels a pair of toned arms wrap around his waist, holding him back, and a face nuzzling into the nape of his neck. He chuckles upon the contact, touched by the affection, before attempting to push the other away.

He stops struggling when he hears a muffled apology leave his significant other's lips and he smiles, resting his back on the other's chest, where the other tightens his hold on his waist. His hand reaches up to the other's face, tracing his jawline, and amber eyes observe the detail in his face – the helpless look in those blue orbs, the frown on his lips, the way his head is slung downwards in disappointment – before reaching behind to pull the other down for a kiss.

"It's alright, Daikicchi. We'll buy a new set of dishes before Nee-san comes to visit."

When he is certain the other understands and attempts to escape his hold once again, he is pulled back, and Aomine continues to nuzzle his face in Kise's neck, pampering him with a trail of soft kisses as he makes his way up the other's ear, causing the blonde to squirm under his touch. Really, he is overly sensitive when it comes to his ears.

Kise smiles, because the words he hears are dedicated only for him, and it makes his heart pound. He's heard it numerous times when they are alone, but no matter how many times Aomine says it, it still makes his heart race.

"I love you too."

Aomine only tightens his hold, as the two embrace one another in silence.

They complete each other.

He was the first person I married.

Neither can believe it, but at the same time, they are relieved because finally – finally – they are one. They cuddle in bed, Kise leaning against Aomine's chest as they sit in silence, simply enjoying one another's company; simply cherishing the night's memories.

Their fingers entwined with one another. On both their left hands, there is a golden band that is enclosed around their fourth finger, and they smile, because they know – they know – this band is what binds them together.

Even if it is not legal – not yet – they don't care, because the ring is symbolic—to them, they are already married. For years, they have been dating, and they know they are perfect for each other; they both make their worlds go round, and they love one another. Since Day One, they were already tied.

Kise twirls the ring around his finger, smiling dotingly at the golden band before sneaking a glance at his lover, and notices he, too, is staring at the ring with a look of affection, with a look of pure joy, and his smile widens. He tips his head back so he can press his lips against Aomine's, and he feels the other is shocked by the sudden gesture but soon adjusts, and returns the kiss.

Eventually, they break their kiss, and Kise only strokes the other's cheek with his free hand before relaxing against the other's body. However, he feels Aomine tighten his grip on his fingers, his hold a little too tight and causes Kise to wince, but he remains silent—this gesture is something the other does when he feels insecure, when he feels concerned; when he feels he has let Kise down.



It doesn't take a genius to know that Aomine is apologizing, and Kise furrows his eyebrows, because he knows the reason for his lover's distress.

"If this is about not having an official wedding ceremony, I don't care, Daiki." Kise caresses the other's fingers in slow, gentle circles, and the other loosens his hold. "This is more than enough—this is perfect."

There is silence, and Kise knows the other wants to believe him, wants to trust those words, but he isn't completely satisfied with that answer. Kise pouts, before twirling the ring around Aomine's finger and says, "I love you, Daiki." Without further ado, he pulls the hand closer and presses his lips on the golden band.

Aomine smiles, wrapping his arms around Kise and nuzzles his face in the other's hair. "I love you too, Ryouta."

Everything is too perfect.

He was the first person I wanted to start a family with.

Both are strolling down the neighbourhood, but Aomine comes to a stop when the two are in front of a basketball store. Kise tilts his head; the two still play basketball now and then, but since they are both occupied with work, they don't have much time to play anymore.

Aomine is mesmerized, by the display in the window, and Kise can't help but giggle. He entangles his fingers around the other, and looks longingly at the display. Basketball will always run in his husband's blood, he thinks, as he cuddles closer to Aomine.

It isn't until the two are standing, looking at the display, for more than ten minutes that Kise finds it rather strange. He casts a glance towards his husband and notices those blue orbs are fixated on one item in the display. Without any hesitation, he follows Aomine's gaze, and his amber eyes widen in shock, before he smiles fondly at the other, grasping their fingers tighter together.

"Is Daiki looking at the tiny pair of shoes in front?"

Aomine breaks from his trance, and stares at Kise with wide, startled blue eyes before he coughs, clearly embarrassed as a tint of pink rises on his cheeks and he attempts to hide it but it's too late—Kise has already seen it and smiles upon the action.

The other grunts, shuffling in his feet, before he mumbles something incoherent to Kise, and causes the blonde's eyebrows to furrow in confusion.

"Let's start a family," He repeats softly, but his fingers are grasping Kise's tightly, refusing to let go, as if he is extremely hopeful, and prays the blonde says yes; prays the other is just as motivated, just as eager, to start a family together.

At first, amber eyes widen with absolute amazement before he grins widely, nodding his head viciously as he wraps his arms around Aomine in a passionate way. Kise smiles at Aomine, his amber orbs gleaming with pure joy and excitement and sparkles in his eyes as says, "A boy? So we can teach him basketball?"

A chuckle escapes out of Aomine's lips, as he leans closer to the blonde and kisses him gently on the lips, "Yes."

And perhaps, their son will find his significant other through basketball.

He was and always will be my first and last love.