One of the things Kise Ryouta actually liked about his new responsibilities as team captain was, ironically, one of the tedious chores. At the end of every practice, he made a round through the gym and locker room, making sure everything was put away, that all the water was turned off, shoo-ing any lingering club members out and closing up. The quiet of the sports building around him was soothing, and the little clicks of lights turning off and doors closing behind him gave him a comforting sense of orderliness. It meant he went home later than almost anyone else, but that wasn’t a problem for him. His mother knew exactly what kind of stress a model’s job was, and just told him to play as hard as he wanted in his off hours, and his father had nearly burst with pride that his son had been chosen as captain for his second year, and didn’t mind anything Ryouta did for the club. He could take as long as he wanted.

And sometimes staying later meant moments like this one, meant the warm steam of the showers around him and the cool of the tile wall under his palms, and the lean weight of Aomine against his back. Moments when there was no one else in the building to hear the sound he made as Aomine pressed two fingers, slick with soap, into Ryouta’s ass and rocked them in and out.

“Is that good?” Aomine purred in his ear, flexing his fingers a little. Ryouta let the shudder of response run up his spine, moaning.

“Yeah… yeah, it’s good.” And it was. His muscles were already warm and tired and lax after the one-on-one match they’d played after practice was over. It felt just right to let Aomine work these muscles open, too, long fingers fondling him from the inside. Aomine’s tongue stroked over his shoulder, lapping at the water running over them. Ryouta tipped his head back and sighed as the soft heat of Aomine’s tongue continued up his neck. “Nnn, Aominecchi…” He shuddered when Aomine’s teeth closed on his earlobe, tugging at his earring.

“I’m going to fuck you, Ryou,” Aomine murmured in his ear, twisting his fingers slowly in Ryouta’s ass. “Right up against the wall, hard and deep. You’ll like that, yeah?”

“Yes,” Ryouta agreed fervently, pushing back onto Aomine’s fingers. “Aominecchi, come on…”

The husky laugh against his ear sent a shiver through him. “Sounds like you’re ready.” Ryouta made a petulant sound as Aomine’s fingers drew back, but relaxed easily enough into the arms that wound around him as Aomine pressed up full length against him.

“Hurry up, Aominecchi.” He flexed his hips to rub against the hardness of Aomine’s cock and grinned to himself at the catch in Aomine’s breathing.

“Pushy,” Aomine said against his neck. Ryouta’s eyes fell half closed with satisfaction as Aomine’s hands wrapped around his hips and that hardness shifted, pushing into him.

“Mmm, it gets me what I want,” he pointed out, husky with the feel of his body stretching open around Aomine’s cock. And then he moaned out loud as Aomine surged against him, driving in deep.

“If that’s what you want, why don’t I just give it to you?”

Ryouta made wordless, approving sounds in answer to that velvety suggestion, to the way the whole length of Aomine’s body flexed against his back, fucking him hard. This was good, this was what he wanted, to feel the full force of Aomine’s body moving against him. Every thrust drove a moan up his throat, rocked him up on his toes, and the little growls and gasps Aomine made against his shoulder, in the same time, just made it hotter. Ryouta braced his palms against the wall and pushed back to meet him, moaning as Aomine pulled him up higher and ground his hips in tight little circles against Ryouta’s ass, working his cock in deeper.

It was wild and hard and perfect, perfect to be fucked just as hard as they played, and Ryouta was gasping in the damp air, panting for breath as Aomine’s ruthless thrusts drove wanting sounds out of him. He would have been more than happy to have it go on, to take it until his legs just gave out, but feeling Aomine’s hand slide between his legs and wrap around his cock, pumping him hard, was sweet and intense. So he let himself go. He braced his feet and bucked between Aomine’s cock and his fist as he came, and let the pleasure storm through him. The sting of Aomine’s teeth on his shoulder, the jolt as his hips snapped forward, burying himself in Ryouta, put a gleaming edge on the heat wringing Ryouta’s nerves.

He leaned against the wall, eyes closed, as the rush of sensation slowly let him down again and he could feel Aomine leaning against his back, arms wrapped around him. “Mmmm,” he said at last. “That was good.”

Aomine laughed against his shoulder. “Glad you thought so. Because you’re really damn demanding.”

Ryouta snorted, not bothering to move otherwise. “You like it when people are demanding.”

Teeth tugged gently on his earlobe again, sending a little shiver down his spine. “And you seem to like it when I’m a little rough with you, so I guess it all works out.” He pulled back slowly, and Ryouta smiled a bit at the little twinge that ran down his legs. He stretched luxuriously and pushed himself upright, turning to glance impishly up at his friend.

“Sometimes, yeah.”

It was good, sometimes, to let all his control, all his sunny charm, even the honed edge he showed on the court, rest for a while. Good to just let go and move, just feel and chase after sensation. It was one kind of rest, and it kept him from thinking too much.

Maybe some of that showed in his expression, tonight, because Aomine shook his head, smile gone crooked, and stepped close again. His hand was warm at the small of Ryouta’s back, supporting him as Aomine leaned down and kissed him, easy and slow. “Think you can sleep, now?”

Ryouta softened. “Aominecchi.” He linked his hands behind Aomine’s neck, leaning against him for a long moment. “Yeah, I think so. Thanks.”

Now Aomine’s mouth curved in a classic Aominecchi smirk. “My pleasure.”

Ryouta laughed and ducked back under the water. Aomine joined him with the soap, retrieved from the corner where it had been kicked, and they stole it back and forth from each other, snickering over their own horseplay. Ryouta relaxed into the familiarity, the old friendship worn in over years. He completely understood why Kuroko had been willing to fight for this, why he’d fought so hard to pull them all back to him. Perhaps Ryouta could learn from him, and fight to keep his new friendships here at Kaijou. After all, he had this with Aomine even though they were at different schools now. Couldn’t it happen with other teammates too?

He leaned against Aomine under the warm spray and held the thought tight.

End

A/N: In hanakotoba, poppies have a variety of meanings, most having to do with joy or enjoyment.