Walk Through the Valley of Lilies: All In One

An arc of “what happens after the Winter Cup” stories, dealing with what fears and hopes haven’t been resolved yet, and what the characters need to become as they go on. Also lots of hooking up, encompassing Aomine/Kuroko/Kagami, Aomine/Kise, Kasamatsu/Kise, and Riko/Hyuuga/Kiyoshi.

Title note: in hanakotoba, lily of the valley indicates a promise of happiness to come.

Chrysanthemum Tea

Aomine reflects a bit on on the effect Kuroko’s had on him, and where Kuroko has brought him to by the season’s end. Spoilers for anime-only fans. Character Sketch with Drama and Fluff, I-3

Character(s): Aomine Daiki, Kagami Taiga, Kuroko Tetsuya

Looking back, he’d felt it first during the Interhigh preliminaries when he’d seen, when he’d experienced, Tetsu’s fierce rejection of despair. He’d seen a whole team lock together around Tetsu’s unwillingness to give up no matter how they lost, and a flicker, just a flicker, of something like hope had brushed over that court.

It had reminded him, for an instant, of the lightness he used to feel playing with Tetsu. At least until he saw that Tetsu had understood the difference between their games, and had to wonder whether even Tetsu would be coming back after that.

When he’d been dragged to the Winter Cup preliminaries though, to see Seirin play that bastard Hanamiya, he’d remembered again. Watching Tetsu’s new senpai put their game and all their chances in Tetsu’s hands, watching them accept pass after twisting, unpredictable pass, he’d remembered doing that himself, trusting like that. Remembered a time it had seemed necessary. Remembered how good it had felt. To win, of course, when that had still been in doubt.

He missed that.

So he pushed them, pushed Satsuki to convince their captain to challenge Seirin directly, as soon as they knew the bracket for the Winter Cup. Pushed Kagami to understand what he had to do, if he really wanted to be a challenge. And if he also left Tetsu with his water bottle, well it wasn’t like he’d forgotten they were friends just because they were enemies.

And when he’d seen them on the court, he’d known he’d been right to push. Kagami had advanced, and that was enough to please him for a while right there. But he’d also felt something at the start of the game that he’d never felt before. Tetsu’s presence. Not just his determination, not just unsupported spirit, but the weight in his sense of the court created by a player who had his own strength. He wanted to taste that strength, to push against it and feel it push back, and it was a thrill just like he’d expected. Not hope, he wasn’t stupid enough to hope, he told himself firmly, but a thrill. That was the best he had, these days, and the ache of knowing that made him angry and rough, even with Tetsu.

Kagami, though, Kagami was a nice surprise.

Actually, Kagami was a shock. A delicious shock. To push and find, not air, not even just resistance, but an unmoving wall, a wall that he could strain against and still not move, a wall he had to break himself open to knock down… he felt like he needed to scream with how good that was.

Just a little, he could relax against that.

And against Tetsu’s ferocity, when he turned his presence outward like an explosion no one could ignore, not even him. Just a little.

Against Seirin’s strength, he could relax just a little, just enough to feel it again. The need that would drive him to where the game opened up. Opened up into brilliance. Into the fire of fighting to win, burning away the numb weight of too many opponents giving up, disappearing, leaving him alone on a cold court. Now he felt the heat again, now he could fight with everything in him, push himself past his limits and feel the wildness of fire, not just of rage.

When that fire burned as high as it could go and that still wasn’t enough, the shock was like glass breaking all around him. Smoked glass, and now he was squinting in sunlight. He felt like he could see again, and what he saw was Tetsu. The reason he had lost. Tetsu… and his partner, who trusted each other so much they burned like the sun.

Their assurance that it wasn’t over yet was warmth to go with the light, another shock but a different kind—not just unexpected but impossible, like landing softly after a long, long fall. Such a long fall he’d long since given himself up for dead, let himself die before he even got to the bottom. Well, here was the bottom, and thanks to those two he’d bounced. The hope he’d first felt a flicker of at the start of the year, even if he hadn’t been able to name it then, and the pain of losing that he’d never expected to feel again both itched at him after that, prodding him to repay them.

Which was, he told himself, why he agreed to coach Tetsu’s shooting. Why he didn’t want Tetsu to lose. Why it stirred something sharp in him, when he wondered whether Akashi had deliberately reduced Tetsu’s strength.

Quarter-finals, at least, he could blame on Satsuki. He had less excuse for cold-cocking that idiot Shougo, after, but at least Shougo was the only one who actually heard his reasons. And it was clearly Satsuki’s fault that he wound up bringing Kagami shoes for the semi-finals. But he couldn’t really pretend that his brief match with Kagami, then, was anything other than a deliberate teaching game; not under the calm knowing of Tetsu’s eyes, and his tiny smile. Still, he knew he owed them, and it was easy enough to tell himself that was why.

He didn’t really break until the final match. Watching them on the court, the way they held each other up and drove each other forward, he knew that he wanted to touch that again. Wanted to taste that kind of trust again. Wanted the light that his shadow brought with him. That was why he laughed, no matter how strange a look Satsuki gave him. It was Tetsu’s victory, all right, complete and inescapable.

When the match ended, maybe he’d find Tetsu and tell him so.

End

A/N: In hanakotoba, chrysanthemum indicate truth (saving gold chrysanthemum, which are the crest of the imperial family). In Chinese traditional medicine, chrysanthemum is also used for clarifying vision or reducing eye-strain.

Strong as Freesia

After the finals of the Winter cup, Kuroko finds Aomine waiting for him. They finally have a long-overdue discussion about what happened in their third year. Implied spoilers for anime-only fans. Drama with Minor Angst, I-3

Character(s): Aomine Daiki, Kuroko Tetsuya

Kuroko Tetsuya walked the last bit of his way home alone, after Kagami turned off onto his own street, letting the quiet settle over him. As the echoes of his team’s voices, of exultation and disbelief and, really, quite a lot of screaming died away, they left one thing behind.

They had won.

He had won. Not alone, of course, but… that had been his point all along. It was Tetsuya’s game, and the team he had chosen, that had won through to the end. And it felt good, it felt… warm. Not like the icy, isolated victories of his third year. No, this reminded him of something further back—their second year, when Kise had just joined them and Aomine still laughed and bounced gleefully at winning, when Midorima’s calm had still had a little humor in it and Murasakibara’s temper had still had a playful edge. When Akashi still smiled at them like he really saw who was in front of him.

Tetsuya tipped his head back and looked up at the sky, past the intermittent glow of his neighborhood’s streetlights and door lamps. It didn’t hurt as much to think about that time, now.

When he turned in at his house and saw who was waiting, though, perched on the low front wall with his breath showing white in the chill air, it was still a shock.

“Aomine-kun.”

“Tetsu.” He didn’t say anything more, and after a long moment Tetsuya moved to unlock the door.

“Come in. Please excuse the mess.”

Aomine kicked his shoes off in the entry, glancing around the dark lower floor. “Your mom isn’t home yet?”

“She’s traveling for work, this week.” Tetsu hung his jacket neatly, reaching out by reflex to take Aomine’s before he could toss it over the shoe rack. Then he had to take a slow breath before he could go on. “She sent me a good luck message earlier today.”

Aomine’s mouth tilted up on one side. “Yeah, that’s oba-san.” He wandered through to the living room and stood at the wide front window while Tetsuya busied himself with pouring them both water in the kitchen. Aomine didn’t like tea, even on cold nights.

“Congratulations,” Aomine called from the next room. “It was a good game.”

Tetsuya paused in the doorway, glasses in his hands, watching Aomine across the room. “Do you really think so?”

“Oh come on.” Aomine hunched his shoulders a little, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans. “I always liked your game.” He leaned one shoulder against the window frame, still looking out. “That’s why I got so pissed off when you left.”

Tetsuya set the glasses down on the low table a bit harder than he’d meant to, water splashing up against the sides. “You were the one who left first,” he answered shortly. He sat down on the couch, closing his hands on his knees, as Aomine finally turned away from the window looking startled.

“I didn’t go anywhere! You were the one who vanished after the final match and dropped your resignation off without seeing a single one of us!”

“I’m surprised you noticed.” Tetsuya could hear his own voice turning sharp and didn’t bother to stop it. “You spent most of that year acting like I wasn’t there on the court at all. Even this year… you kept saying I was your shadow, but it was like you’d forgotten how to see me until we played at the Winter Cup.” And now, now after all this, Aomine wanted to scold him for leaving? He looked back at his old partner flatly, mouth tight.

Aomine hesitated that that, and finally sighed, coming to thump down cross-legged on the floor by the couch. “Sorry,” he said, low, reaching out to curl long fingers around one of the glasses, though he didn’t drink, just ran his fingertips through the condensation on the sides. “I just… I couldn’t, Tetsu. That whole year, it was like… like there was nothing under me any more and I was falling. Everyone just gave up, and there was nothing there, nothing to stand on or lean against, everything I loved best just gone! And when we played together… our game together is so strong, Tetsu, it just made it worse.” He took a drink and set the glass back down with a restless clack. “I hated the way you left, but I was almost glad when the rest of the team split up. Where else was I going to get a decent game any more?” He propped an elbow on the cushion beside Tetsuya, still looking down. “And even then… I figured once I’d actually played them seriously, they’d give up too, you know? Like everyone else did, and that would be it.”

One part of Tetsuya’s mind turned that over, thinking that now Aomine’s distant look during the preliminary matches in the spring, and his harshness during the the winter match, made much more sense. He’d expected Tetsuya and Kagami to give up, too, and he’d been angry over it. The bigger part of him, though, was buzzing, whiting out into the slow rise of memory and anger.

Aomine still hadn’t seen. Hadn’t understood what he’d done, that last year at Teikou.

“You didn’t give up, though,” Aomine went on, quieter. “Kise either.” He flashed a lopsided grin up at Tetsuya. “I’m glad.”

“No,” Tetsuya said softly, “we never gave up. But you did.”

Aomine blinked up at him, eyes widening a little. “What?”

“You gave up on me. You gave up on our team. You gave up on the game.” Tetsuya looked down at his old partner, recognizing his alarm at Tetsuya’s anger and not caring. “I was there to lean against. So was our team, until you turned away from them. And you turned away from me just like your opponents turned away from you. The one thing I loved most, Aomine-kun, the game I could play as part of that team. Gone, just like you said.” Feeling that simmering hurt and frustration well up again, he drove home the point with brutal bluntness. “You gave up, and you took that away from me, and you left me behind in the same place you were trying to escape. You climbed over me, trying to get out, and pushed me down deeper, and didn’t even notice.”

Aomine was pale by the time he was done, one hand clenched on the edge of the couch so tight Tetsuya wondered distantly whether the fabric would tear. “I… did that to you?” he whispered. "Really?"

Tetsuya nodded silently, waiting.

“I…” A shudder ran through Aomine, and he bent his head abruptly, pressing his forehead against Tetsuya’s leg. “I… Tetsu…” Tetsuya could see his throat move as he swallowed convulsively, see the gleam of his eyes, wide open and staring blindly at nothing. “I’m sorry,” he finally choked. “I’m sorry, Tetsu. I never…”

Tetsuya felt a little shaky himself. His mother had told him, years ago when his parents first separated, that he could let anger drive him but never rule him. He hadn’t known until now, he thought, what she’d meant.

He’d hurt, yes. For a long time. But he didn’t want to hurt Aomine in return; he wanted his friend back. That was what he’d fought for all this year. So he took another breath to loosen the tightness in his chest, and rested his hand on Aomine’s back. “It’s better now,” he said more gently. “I found a team and a partner. You came back. You saw me on the court, again. It’s all right now. Just don’t go away like that again.”

Slowly Aomine quieted, shaking tension easing back out of his shoulders and neck under Tetsuya’s hand. Finally he said, low, “You brought me back. You and Kagami.” A soft snort of laughter, a little pained. “He didn’t give up, either. Maybe he really is stronger, some ways at least.”

“Mmm.” Tetsuya rubbed his fingers over the line of Aomine’s shoulder. “I knew better, this time, how to keep him away from the edge.” How to hold his partner steady in the storm of talent and challenge and pride and frustration and eagerness that was tournament season. After a long, quiet moment, he finally added. “I bet this wasn’t why you came to see me tonight, though.” He felt Aomine wince under his hand.

“I… I was remembering. Sometimes, after a game, I’d go home with you. And we’d wind down from the match, and if your mom was here she’d listen and cheer us on, and sometimes, if it was still early, we’d go find a court and play around.” He was quiet for a long moment, and Tetsuya waited for him. Finally he said, very low, “I’d like to play with you again, some time.”

That warm feeling of a happy victory bloomed through Tetsuya again, easing the last edge of his anger, and he smiled. “Yes. I’d like that too.”

Aomine finally lifted his head, eyes dark. “Even though?”

Even though he’d done such a painful thing to Tetsuya. The very thing that had driven Aomine to such wildness.

Tetsuya thought about it, letting his hand rest where it was. “Yes,” he said finally, very sure. “Even though.”

Aomine leaned against his knees, not speaking, but relief was in every line of his body. Tetsuya finally leaned forward for his water glass, to take a drink. He felt wrung out, inside, and very in need of it. As he settled back, Aomine folded his arms on Tetsuya’s knees and rested his chin on them. “Kagami too, you think?” he asked, speculatively.

Tetsuya regarded his friend tolerantly. “Yes, you can play Kagami-kun too.”

Aomine grinned up at him, with a shadow of his old, confiding air. “You’re gonna regret saying we could.”

Tetsuya took a composed sip of his water. “If our coach and captain agree, of course,” he specified. Aomine gave him a sulky look and he added, “Momoi-san too.”

“Okay, I’ll be good about it, I give up, I give up!” Aomine declared dramatically, throwing himself back to sprawl over the couch cushion beside Tetsuya. “Except not, of course,” he added.

A familiar bubble of laughter burst in Tetsuya’s chest. “I know.”

Aomine smiled up at him, upside down and crooked. “Tetsu… I didn’t say it earlier, but… thanks.”

Tetsuya rested a hand on his shoulder again, and they sat together quietly for a long moment.

“So, hey, what’s to eat around here?” Aomine finally asked.

“You sound just like Kagami-kun,” Tetsuya told him, straight-faced. The resulting protests took them most of the way through the the instant noodles that Tetsuya made, and that Aomine ate two thirds of.

He supposed there was some justice in Aomine’s indignation. Kagami would have eaten at least three quarters of it. On the other hand, he’d probably have done the cooking himself, and made something besides just noodles.

Tetsuya watched his friend across the small kitchen table, drinking in all the little things he remembered: the wide gestures and the way Aomine talked through a mouthful of food and the flicker of light in his eyes, still fitful but getting stronger again as they talked over Seirin’s match against Rakuzan. This was what he had fought for, and the fight had brought him a new team, good senpai, a new partner, and finally his old partner back again. This had turned out to be a good road.

He would keep going down it.

End

A/N: In hanakotoba, freesia indicate immaturity or childishness, but also the purity of innocence.

The Shade of Sunflowers

Upon the retirement of the third years, Kise gets a bit of a shock over his captain’s plans for his future. Drama, I-2

Character(s): Kasamatsu Yukio, Kise Ryouta

Kise Ryouta stood rooted to the polished floor of Kaijou’s locker room, staring at his captain and coach. “You… but…”

Kasamatsu-senpai gave him faint, tilted smile. “You think maybe Hayakawa is a better choice?”

Ryouta ran a helpless hand through his hair. “Well, no, but…”

“I told you when you joined, Kise,” Takeuchi-kantoku rumbled, “you’re going to be the core of the team. Get used to it already.”

“But making a first-year captain…! Ow,” he added, as Kasamatsu-senpai smacked him on the arm.

“Quit whining,” his captain ordered. “Now we’re retiring, you’re as good as a second-year. And Kantoku is right about this; it’s time you got serious about the club.”

“I am serious!” Ryouta protested, indignant. Hadn’t he proven that during the tournaments, this year?

“Including when you’re not having fun in a tight game,” Kasamatsu-senpai specified, and Ryouta ducked his head, cheeks a little hot. Okay, he guessed he did kind of toy with people outside of games, but it was reflex! His agency had pretty much trained the charm into him, and how else was he supposed to get any amusement out of being a public figure since middle-school, for pity’s sake?

Besides, he mostly on did it to Kasamatsu-senpai, on his own team. Kasamatsu-senpai gave him a look like he’d heard the thought, and Ryouta ducked his head further, hiding a tiny grin.

“It’s not like you can’t lead,” Takeuchi-kantoku told him heartlessly. “Time to step up and do it. Kasamatsu, you said you have the rest of this?”

Kasamatsu-senpai waved a hand. “Yeah, I’ve got it.”

“The rest of what?” Ryouta asked a bit warily, as their coach took himself out, nudging the door shut behind him. Kasamatsu-senpai sat down on one of the benches, elbows on his knees.

“Listen, Kise, you still have one serious weakness. You aren’t experienced enough.”

“That’s what I was just trying to tell you!”

Kasamatsu-senpai stuck a foot out and booted him in the thigh. “Shut up; I said listen.”

Ryouta considered cowering dramatically, but the look in Kasamatsu-senpai’s eyes was serious, so he leaned back against the lockers and listened quietly.

“You have incredible potential, and you’re developing it fast. That’s good. But you’ve still only been playing for under three years. You can’t read the situation on the court very well yet. You need to fix that.”

Ryouta bit his lip; he’d known that was why Kasamatsu-senpai had taken him to watch the Tokyo preliminaries, had brought him to every other match they could manage and talked him through every one. “Is there anyone else?” he asked, tentatively. “Anyone else in the club who knows that the way you do?”

A corner of Kasamatsu-senpai’s mouth curled up, not happily. “Not really, though I’ll tell you now that you should listen to Kataoka; he’ll probably make the best point-guard, after me, for that matter. But no. You’re going to have to learn this yourself.”

“But…!” Ryouta protested. “If it’s a matter of experience…”

“It’s patterns, Kise.” Kasamatsu-senpai leaned forward intently. “And that’s what you do best. You just need to see more of them. So here’s what you’re going to do.” He pointed to a stack of two cardboard boxes sitting by the door. “You’re going to watch recordings of as many different games as I could lay hands on. Watch them like you were looking at a new move to make your own, but don’t just watch the moves. Watch the flow of the game, see what positions people have when plays happen.”

Ryouta calculated how many DVDs those two boxes could hold and quailed. “But…!” This time it came out a little desperate.

Expecting an admonitory kick, he stilled when Kasamatsu-senpai just looked up at him instead, quiet and serious.

“You can do this, Kise. I know you can. Will you?”

Ryouta slumped back against the lockers, helpless in face of that kind of trust. “I…” Slowly he let his breath out and bowed his head. “Yes, Captain,” he said, low.

“Senpai,” Kasamatsu-senpai corrected, pushing up onto his feet. “You’re the team’s captain, now.” He reached up and rested a hand on Ryouta’s shoulder, steadying him the way he’d done for Ryouta all year.

Ryouta smiled, small and rueful. “Yeah, I guess I am. But you’re the one who put me there. In a lot of different ways,” he finished softly.

Answering softness flickered over Kasamatsu-senpai’s face for a moment. “You’re welcome. Now come on. We have time to watch the first match from that set before it’s dark.”

Ryouta made a mournful face. “Yes, senpai.” He collected a reassuringly brisk smack across the shoulder for that, and trailed along obediently as Kasamatsu-senpai rummaged out a disk and pulled Ryouta down onto the bench in front of the team’s DVD player. At least, Ryouta reassured himself, he wasn’t being thrown over the edge of captaincy alone. He had his senpai’s trust and advice to go with him.

How far those would carry him, he wasn’t sure. But he was going to hang on tight to them anyway.

End

A/N: In hanakotoba, sunflowers indicate love and respect.

Colored Like Zinnias

After the Winter Cup, Kuroko is still dealing with old anxiety about his new team, and needs to be reassured that he isn’t the only one watching over his partner. Drama, Character Sketch, I-3

Character(s): Hyuuga Junpei, Kagami Taiga, Kuroko Tetsuya

The afternoon was bright and chill, and winter sunlight slanted in the high windows of the Seirin gymnasium to glow on the floor. The Winter Cup was over and Seirin’s basketball club had settled into their off-season training schedule, which was…

“Again, faster this time!”

…not actually very different. Tetsuya scrubbed his sleeve over his forehead and trotted back to the starting line for today’s sprints. The squeak of shoes and the hoarse draw of each wave’s breathing echoed off the walls, and Tetsuya settled himself into position for the next sprint with a warm sense of familiarity. The sounds, the feel of the air on his skin, the flex of muscles pushing to the limit, all of this whispered to him that he was right where he should be.

“Furihata, your ankles are wobbling all over the place, twenty scissors hops!” their coach barked, watching the dash with a predatory gleam in her eye. “Kuroko, I didn’t see your sprint at all, do another!”

A tiny smile curved Tetsuya’s mouth despite the slow burn in his calves. “Yes, Kantoku.” He liked how easily his senpai took his habit of concealment in stride, lately. He felt like he belonged, again.

“All right,” she called, when he’d finished. “That’s enough drills, let’s loosen up a little. Five against five, twenty minute match!”

The other first-years were starting to have the endurance to play for longer, mixed in among the regulars, and Tetsuya was starting to feel like he could give them harder passes. That was good. He didn’t know what the team would look like by their third year, but he was starting to hope that they wouldn’t shame their senpai’s determination, following after them. He felt a quick thrill of pressure, even here in practice, as Izuki-senpai dodged straight into his pass route, obviously knowing where the ball should go next.

“Fukuda, mark Kagami!” Izuki-senpai called, and Tetsuya could feel the shrinking possibilities of the next move, like a band tightening around his arms. Fukuda had fallen back to guard Kagami along with Mitobe-senpai, Izuki-senpai was staying between Tetsuya and Kawahara, Hyuuga-senpai was between him and the basket and Koganei-senpai wouldn’t be able to stop him from interfering if Tetsuya tried to make his own drive. Tetsuya abandoned his planned play and passed backwards to Furihata instead; if he could get further inside the defense and draw Hyuuga-senpai’s attention, he could pass to Koganei-senpai and let him shoot from up close.

Perhaps, he thought later, he had taken his senpai’s words about focusing more on his individual game a little too much to heart. For a moment, he forgot just how much it frustrated Kagami to be kept out of the action.

Even Tetsuya almost didn’t see it happen. In the moment Tetsuya passed the ball, Kagami ducked back, away from his two markers, and spun around them, impossibly graceful, deadly fast, to intercept the ball himself. He drove for the basket like there was nothing else on the court, and Hyuuga-senpai feinted around Koganei-senpai to lunge for Kagami. Kagami leaped from yards out, and Tetsuya’s breath caught; it was a beautiful move, calculated to make any attempt to stop him into a foul. It was also a big risk for a player whose accuracy was still shaky at longer ranges. Tsuchida-senpai was running to support, to catch any rebound, but Tetsuya could see he wouldn’t be in time. Neither would Tetsuya himself. Koganei-senpai had even worse accuracy than Kagami and was at a bad angle.

It was all up to Kagami.

Tetsuya felt like the court was holding its breath as the ball flew, and he let his breath out along with Kawahara’s cheer when it went in. There was a shaky feeling in his stomach, though.

“Kagami!” Hyuuga-senpai bellowed, hands on his hips. “What the hell was that? You completely outran your team, what were you thinking making a risky shot like that, unsupported, when the other side’s outside scorer was near the basket? If it hadn’t gone in, and I’d gotten the ball, you’d have been screwed!”

Kagami blinked at the lecture. “Well, I had to, didn’t I? None of you can keep up with me.”

The simple, matter-of-fact tone made Tetsuya’s hand flinch into a fist. It was true, and that was the worst part. The feeling of familiarity was back, but it wasn’t pleasant this time. It felt more like something smothering him. Was this always how it had to go, even with Kagami, even after the balance they’d found this season? Had Kise been right after all? Would Tetsuya have to go through this with every partner?

Hyuuga-senpai smacked Kagami briskly across the back of the head.

“Ow!”

“Moron,” Hyuuga-senpai said calmly. “The whole point of being on the same team is that we know your moves and you know ours. We don’t have to be as fast as you, we just have to know what you might do so we can make coherent plays. So.” He glanced around, beckoning everyone closer. “If Kagami is double marked, we can assume he’ll get free, as long as he’s not right up against the boundary. Work with that thought in mind.” He glanced at the other first-years in particular. “Just like you keep in mind that I can make outside shots and that you watch Izuki for cues and that if the ball is suddenly in your hands you don’t bother wondering why, just assume Kuroko thinks you’re clear.” A laugh ran through the club and Hyuuga-senpai smiled faintly. “All right, then, let’s go. It’s Black side’s ball!”

Tetsuya nearly floated through the rest of practice on the warm wave of his relief.

Kagami seemed to take the whole episode in stride, and think nothing of it, either during the rest of the mini-game or during their captain’s dissection of it after. He was no more or less impatient and mannerless than always, made the usual faces at the partnered training exercises the coach heaped on him and still did exactly as she said. Tetsuya thought about that, as he rolled his towel into his bag, and decided it was a good sign.

“Hey.” Kagami nudged his shoulder as Tetsuya fished out his shoes. “Hurry up or I’m going without you.”

Just like always, when Kagami was hungry. “Go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Tetsuya told him, and smiled inwardly at the way Kagami rolled his eyes and slouched out the door on the trail of obscene amounts of food, hands jammed into his pockets. Just as always, but not quite familiar. Not yet. Maybe that was a good sign, too, for their team, that so many things about it were still unfamiliar to him. It could have been a lot worse, certainly, with a coach or captain who couldn’t handle Kagami, or who just wouldn’t; he’d seen what kind of team that made, too often this past season, and at Teikou before that. If he hadn’t chosen Seirin… if Kagami hadn’t chosen Seirin… Tetsuya remembered what the Fukuda Sougou team had become, what the Kirisaki Daiichi team had let themselves be, how wild Touou had let Aomine run, and a shudder shook his whole body. The laces of his shoe snapped as his fingers tightened hard, and he put his head down on his knees to breathe through the sick jolt of those might-have-beens, nightmares riding the remains of the scare he’d had earlier.

“You all right?” Hyuuga-senpai’s hand came down on his shoulder. “If you’ve been over-training outside of practice, you know Kantoku will skin you…”

“I’m fine,” Tetsuya said, a little breathless still. “I’m not worn out. It’s just…” He swallowed down the last of that fear, pushing it back with the memory of this captain’s steady hand on the team. “Thank you.”

“What for?” There was a bit of a laugh in Hyuuga-senpai’s voice, though he left his hand where it was as Tetsuya straightened again. “It’s my job to look after all of you, isn’t it?”

“For doing that, then,” Tetsuya said quietly to his hands as he knotted the broken lace of his shoe. “It isn’t easy, is it? Especially sometimes.” Especially for Kagami.

“Ah. That.” Hyuuga-senpai shook him a little. “First-years shouldn’t worry so much. No matter what kind of monster I wind up with on my team, I won’t let him run away with himself.” His hand tightened. “Just like I won’t let you stand still. Still going to thank me?”

Hyuuga-senpai was teasing, but Kuroko could hear that he was also serious. He meant what he said, and the thought of being pushed like that, pushed by someone of Hyuuga-senpai’s integrity, made excitement and trepidation and hope tangle together in his chest. He needed to keep finding new parts of his game, things he’d never thought he could do, things he’d never been encouraged to try; Hyuuga-senpai would make sure he kept going, the way Akashi never had.

Tetsuya knew other people had a hard time reading his expression, but he hoped that his gratitude showed at least a little, as he looked up. “Yes, Captain. I will.”

Hyuuga-senpai’s smile was crooked. “Thought you might. That’s why you belong here. Remember it.”

Tetsuya lowered his eyes and nodded. “Yes, Captain.” It wasn’t familiar, what he felt now. Not exactly. But that was all right.

He was happy.

End

A/N: In hanakotoba, Zinnias/Hyakunichisou indicate loyalty.

Bellflowers Ring Silently

Aomine is straying. Kagami is enthusiastic. Momoi has a plan. And Riko is going to make this all come out right, no matter how many basketball idiots of either gender she has to wrangle to do it. Drama with Developing Friendship, I-3

Character(s): Aida Riko, Aomine Daiki, Kagami Taiga, Kuroko Tetsuya, Momoi Satsuki

Aida Riko didn’t like Momoi Satsuki. The girl was far too presumptuous, for one thing, and for another all of Riko’s idiot boys were too busy ogling Momoi every time they met to remember that this was a scout, this was a spy, this was the enemy, with a better analytical head on her shoulders than even Teppei. It wasn’t better than Riko’s, though, which was why she had the sense to be wary. So when her phone chimed in the middle of practice, and the name at the top of the message was Momoi’s, Riko was instantly on guard.

And then she read it and was just puzzled.

Send dai-chan back pls. Captain very upset.

“Who on earth…?” Riko muttered to herself, frowning. It took a minute to connect Dai-chan with Aomine Daiki, and then she rolled her eyes.

Middle of practice. she sent back. Why would he be he

“You guys are still going? Jeez, take a break already.”

Riko glanced up at the unfamiliar voice, and her thumb skidded across her phone when she saw Aomine Daiki leaning around the outside door, eyeing Seirin’s practice with disgruntlement.

“Aomine-kun,” Kuroko greeted him, a little breathless where he was chinning himself up on the bars set into the wall, as per Riko’s orders. “Are you skipping practice again?”

“Yes, he is,” Riko snapped. “And apparently his captain is angry about it, which I can completely understand.”

Aomine just flicked his fingers carelessly, downright lounging in the door frame. “He gets pissed off over everything.” Then he paused and cocked his head at her. “How do you know?”

Riko waved her phone. “Your keeper texted, asking us to send you back.” Then she saw her screen and paused to glare at it. She’d hit send when Aomine startled her, and now Momoi had replied, Told you so.

“Satsuki’s always interfering,” Aomine said, watching her under his lashes. “No reason to do her errands for her, right?”

Riko hesitated, torn between not wanting to do Momoi’s errands and being a responsible coach, and also being annoyed that this too-tall, too-talented brat had seen exactly how she was feeling.

“Aomine!” Kagami had finally noticed their visitor, and stopped noticing anything else including the formation he was supposed to be practicing. The ball flew straight past him as he stepped toward the doors, showing his teeth. “Here for a rematch?”

“Isn’t that supposed to be for the one who lost?” Aomine shot back with a lazy, equally toothy, smile. “Last I checked, that was you.”

“Try me again!”

Riko rubbed her forehead. “Both of you shut up!” she barked. “Kagami, get back to work or I’ll triple your training drills! And you,” she rounded on Aomine, who had the good sense to look just a little uneasy as she marched towards him. “If you want a match with any of my players, you can just get your coach to set it up with me. Now out!” She body-checked him out the door, ignoring his squawk of protest. “You have your own practice to be at.”

“But the drills are boring.” He gave her a downright pleading look that nearly made her doubt her own memory of him on the court, as dark and sharp there as he was open and entreating now. “Just one match?”

She could hear Kagami, inside, asking Hyuuga the same thing, and scrubbed a hand over her face. “If you wait quietly out here and don’t interfere,” she said, irresistibly reminded of certain small cousins she’d babysat for, and negotiations over bedtime, “you can have a one-on-one after practice ends. A short one.”

He grinned at her, bright and happy and wicked around the edges. “Okay!” He hopped up to sit on the edge of the tall planters that lined the walk around the building.

Riko shook her head and went back in, closing the door firmly behind her. Maybe Momoi deserved more credit than she’d thought, if she had to manage that one every day. She looked up to see Kagami, Kagami of all people! giving her puppy-dog eyes.

“Kantoku?” he asked, hopefully.

“You really are like a pair of little kids,” she sighed. “After practice. If you pay attention.”

Kagami brightened up just like Aomine had. “Yes, ma’am!” He bounded back to his place on the court, and Riko exchanged a look of helpless amusement with Hyuuga.

At least Kuroko was still calmly working through his repetitions on the bars, even if there was a tiny smile playing around the corners of his mouth.

Not coming back, Riko texted Momoi. Promised 121 later to stop him interfering. Cptn should put leash on him.

Will go shopping today, came back, and even in a text message Riko could tell she was exasperated. She sympathized.

Can put him in your practice? Momoi sent, hopefully, two weeks (and three more visits) later.

Riko stabbed at her phone in aggravation. Show opponent all our tactics, sure right.

Trade. Will put kagamin in our practice when he comes.

Riko blinked at the text in disbelief. “What is this supposed to be, foreign exchange?” Why would kagami be at touou?

All Momoi sent back was: …

Riko pursed her lips, looking up at her court, where Kagami and Aomine were dodging around each other, ball flashing through their hands almost faster than the eye could follow. Finally Aomine broke past Kagami and made a clean shot. “I win,” he said, as he landed. “Again.”

“Once more!” Kagami shot back, teeth bared at Aomine even though his eyes were practically sparkling.

Aomine smirked. “You’re way more than one down, you know.”

“Either say no, or gimme the damn ball.”

Aomine bounced the ball across to Kagami, laughing.

Hyuuga, the only one who had stayed late with her to watch, shook his head in disbelief. “I think I love basketball as much as the next person…”

“The next basketball idiot anyway,” she agreed, flipping her phone closed with a sigh.

He ignored that, or maybe just accepted it; Hyuuga was a smart guy sometimes. “…but those two are something else. I think Kagami has actually skipped a meal for this.”

Riko thought about that, and looked down at her phone, and turned around to bang her head against the gymnasium stage a few times. “Why does she have to be right about this?” she asked, muffled. If Kagami was willing to skip meals to play Aomine it wouldn’t take long at all before he really was sneaking off to Touou for more.

“Momoi-san predicted it?” a quiet voice asked from right beside her, and Riko jumped. Right. Of course Kuroko had also stayed behind to watch. It was her own fault for not paying attention, the way she’d learned to during practice itself. She took a long breath to slow her heart rate back down, and managed not to glare when she looked up. Kuroko was perched on the edge of the stage, looking down at her with wide, steady eyes. “Momoi-san knows Aomine-kun very well. And Kagami-kun is a lot like him.”

“I noticed.” Riko turned around again, letting her shoulders thump back against the stage, and accepted the silent support of Hyuuga’s arm pressed against hers. “So, yes, he probably will be sneaking off to Touou pretty soon, now.” How was she going to manage this? It wouldn’t be an entirely bad thing if it weren’t for Kagami’s strategic obliviousness…

“We have a leash for the dog, we can get one for Kagami too,” Hyuuga said darkly, and Riko grinned up at him. Great minds thought alike.

After a long moment, Kuroko spoke up again. “Aomine-kun is a better analyst than Kagami-kun, right now.”

Kuroko saw the real problem too. “Mm. That’s what I’m really concerned about, yes.” Riko watched Kagami finally out-leap Aomine’s guard to slam the ball home. Both of them went immediately for another point, this time, and Riko sighed, exasperated. Enough was enough, and she didn’t want Kagami to over-strain himself. “Kuroko-kun, go stop them.”

Kuroko hopped down from the stage and trotted obediently out onto the court. Riko watched him watch the flow of the match for a moment before stepping into it and effortlessly stealing the ball, holding it while both his current and previous partner protested the interruption loudly. Kuroko really did have an amazing eye for the game, and she swore by the time she graduated she and Hyuuga were going to get him to use that eye for more than his own plays. He waited out Kagami and Aomine’s complaints and said a few quiet words, pointing to the clock on the wall. Eventually, they both gave in and made for their bags against the wall by the door. Kuroko, responsible as ever, put the ball away neatly in the bin before following after. The three of them pushed through the outside door, Kagami and Aomine still arguing over their match while Kuroko, between them, listened with silent amusement.

“Momoi suggests we can just trade them off, incorporate them both into both practices, wherever they happen to be,” she said quietly, once they were gone. “But that won’t be an even trade when it comes to what they pick up about an opponent’s team. If it weren’t for that, I might consider it. It would certainly help Kagami a great deal to train against Aomine with any regularity.”

Hyuuga was looking a little alarmed. “Kantoku. You’re talking about Seirin and Touou playing tournament matches when we already know what the other team is capable of. What kind of game would that be?”

“A challenging one. You like that, right?” Riko’s mouth tilted in a crooked smile. “Momoi seems to have a lot of that information on her books already. It might be very useful to equalize that advantage.” Hyuuga paused, obviously just as caught by the notion as she’d been. If only it could work. She was almost regretting that Kagami couldn’t analyze his opponents on anything but an instinctive level, yet, not like…

Slowly Riko straightened, eyes widening.

“Kantoku?” Hyuuga asked, warily.

Riko snapped her phone open with a flick of her wrist, and her thumb danced over it as she wrote out, Kagami and kuroko both to touou and I agree.

There was a long pause before the answer came back, and when it finally did Riko let herself giggle with wicked satisfaction.

Hyuuga paled. “Kantoku, what are you going to do?”

"I’m going to send Kuroko along." She held up the phone for him to see.

Agreed.

It took another few days before Aomine snuck off to visit them again, and Riko couldn’t quite restrain herself from skipping now and then. Her club kept giving her nervous looks, though she was sure she had no idea why they should. She supposed, on reflection, she might have hummed a little, too.

When Aomine finally showed up, peeking in the outside doors to wave at Kagami and Kuroko, she pounced on him. “There you are! Get in here, Aomine-kun, you’re taking part in drills today!”

“Oh, she has plans for him,” Furihata whispered, in a tone of relief. “Whew!”

“Don’t relax yet, they might still be plans for us too!” Kawahara hissed back.

Riko smiled serenely. It was good to keep her boys on their toes.

“Drills?” Aomine blinked at her as she strolled up to him. “Oh come on, I came here to get away from drill–ow!”

Riko marched him into the gym, fingers locked firmly on his ear. “Too bad. You’re here. You’re practicing.” Her boys were looking at her with a bit of awe, and she gave them a sunny smile. “Now.” She let Aomine go and folded her arms. “Take off your shirt and let me get a look at you.”

“What?!” Aomine looked faintly scandalized. Hyuuga was clearly stifling a laugh as he came and patted Aomine reassuringly on the shoulder.

“She’s our trainer; she wants to get a look at what kind of condition you’re in. Go on.”

“But…” Aomine gave her a rather wide-eyed look. “No, seriously…”

“Aomine-kun.” Kuroko, in the middle of the rotating line for lay-up practice runs, looked over at them with an ever so faintly admonishing expression. He didn’t say anything else, but Aomine grimaced a little, breath sighing out. Riko chalked up another example of Kuroko’s ability to manage his teammates; she was starting to wonder if they should make him the captain, year after next.

“Oh all right.” Aomine stripped off his shirt and stood giving her a suspicious look.

Riko took a good look at his body, frowning, pushing aside her eternal amazement over his sheer strength and potential to study the whole picture instead. “Hmm.” She hadn’t been sure, just watching him slouching around, and it was hard to see very well in the middle of one of his wild matches with Kagami, but her suspicion had been right. Aomine wasn’t standing quite square. She walked around him, studying his back. “Hmmmm.” Finally, she came around in front of him again, studying the curve of his spine and ribs as she went, and nodded sharply. “All right. Get dressed.” As soon as Aomine’s head emerged from the neck of his T-shirt again, she gave him a stern look. “I’m not surprised Momoi-kun wanted me to take a look at you. You’re right on the edge of some acute injuries, especially if you keep playing the way you are with Kagami-kun.”

Aomine shot her a skeptical glance, running his hands through his hair. “You can tell that just by looking?”

“You aren’t standing square,” Riko pointed out. “You’re pulling up just a little short on your right leg, and that’s contracting your core muscles on the left, trying to compensate. Your lower back, especially, is weaker than it should be, and you’re putting extra strain on your shoulders and chest. That’s heading straight for a torn pectoral, and your knees will be in danger, too, if you don’t strengthen your hip and lower back muscles again.” Aomine’s eyes had been widening all through the lecture, turning uncertain as he tried reflexively to adjust his stance and probably felt the muscles pulling. Riko set her hands on her hips, scolding. “You can’t let yourself get out of condition like that, Aomine-kun! You should know better!”

“It’s never been a problem,” Aomine protested, looking shifty even as he said it.

Riko narrowed her eyes at him. “No excuses! You’re going to train properly whenever you’re here, and that’s final! I’m not having any injuries happening in my gym.”

“What kind of training properly?” Aomine hedged, though Riko could tell he was weakening. She smiled at him, sweet as honey.

“Oh, dreadfully boring ones.” She stepped up nose-to-nose, or at least nose-to-chest, and he edged back. “Which will keep you from having all the wonderful excitement of a serious injury, you idiot.” She folded her arms and delivered the finishing stroke. “And no games with Kagami unless I’m satisfied you’re making sufficient progress in your re-conditioning.”

He finally gave in with a sigh, shoulders slumping. “Yeah, yeah, all right.”

One last push. Riko glared at him again. “What was that, Aomine-kun? I didn’t quite catch it.”

One corner of his mouth quirked up. “Yes, Kantoku.”

“Better!” She patted his arm. “Now, don’t worry, we’ll start easy. Give me fifty side planks, twenty seconds each, and then you can join in the sprints.”

Someone on the court, where they had all been eavesdropping shamelessly, squeaked with shock. Aomine, on the other hand, just grinned, eyes lighting up with a little spark. “No problem.”

Riko smiled with satisfaction that she’d struck the right note with him, presented this training as both a benefit and a challenge. She kept an eye on him as he went to pull down a mat to work on, and took out her phone.

Could have just said you wanted evaluation of him.

Wheres the fun in that? Momoi sent back a minute later, and Riko rolled her eyes. Dai-chan okay? came a moment later.

Will be, Riko typed back. Close thing. Watch him.

Can have kagamin for bait pls? Riko could almost see Momoi batting her lashes innocently, and snorted.

Will send next week. Kuroko too. Better keep them in shape.

Been doing that for years.

For the first time since the Winter Cup, Riko thought about what it might have been like to manage a team like Teikou while the captain and coach let the whole lot of them run wild in the name of victory.

Not you alone, she texted back. Will be okay now.

It wasn’t until five minutes later that her phone chimed with a reply, and Riko fished it out while calling to Koganei to set his feet better before his next sprint.

Thanks.

She closed the phone again and went back to her job, and if she carried a little smile with her, well, none of the boys needed to know why.

One of the things Satsuki had most looked forward to, about Kagami and Tetsu-kun visiting Touou, was watching Wakamatsu-senpai try to deal with Tetsu-kun.

“So try to keep up!”

“Of course.” Tetsu-kun stood perfectly calm and attentive, watching Wakamatsu-senpai.

“And… and don’t get in anyone’s way!”

“Understood.” Tetsu-kun waited politely.

Wakamatsu-senpai ran a hand through his hair, clearly bewildered by all the relentless courtesy. “Yeah, well. Just… go get changed.”

Tetsu-kun bobbed an agreeable and unflappable bow and herded Kagami off to the side while Touou’s captain stalked back to practice, shaking his head. Dai-chan finally stopped laughing long enough lead them to the changing room, and came back still grinning. “That was beautiful,” he said, lounging against the edge of the stage beside her.

“Just remember, you’re supposed to train properly today or no game with Kagamin later,” she reminded him. Dai-chan made a face.

“Yeah, yeah, fine.” He muttered some further uncomplimentary things under his breath, but they were mostly directed at Riko-san, so Satsuki let him complain. If Dai-chan didn’t realize who had really started this plan, that was actually fine with her. She didn’t like having to fight with him. That reminded her, though, and she pulled out her phone to text Riko-san.

Both here. Everything fine. Have a nice day!

A minute later, the reply came back, dryness rising almost visibly off the screen. Good luck. Middle of practice here. Shoo.

Satsuki grinned to herself as she closed the phone again. She was finding that she liked teasing Riko-san, and she thought just maybe Riko-san was finding the whole thing funny too.

“Floor work!” Wakamatsu-senpai yelled as Kagami and Tetsu-kun emerged again. “Break out the mats!”

Dai-chan sighed like it was dragged up from his toes, and slouched over to follow Tetsu-kun as he led both Kagami and Dai-chan promptly over to the stack of rough, blue mats against the wall. Dai-chan and Kagami eyed each other narrowly as they grabbed the same mat, and Satsuki rolled her eyes. She did it extra hard, because she was pretty sure she was doing it for Tetsu-kun also, though he never showed it.

It was an odd day of practice, full of hesitations as people paused to watch Dai-chan breezing through every exercise, or Kagami bursting through them, or Tetsu-kun working his way patiently and sometimes awkwardly through them. It was that last that Satsuki heard murmurs starting over, among little knots of players waiting to shoot or sprint or get one of the baskets for guard practice.

“…the hell…”

“…really from Teikou?”

“…different in a game, but seriously…”

As yet another of Tetsu-kun’s lay-ups bounced off the rim, Yoshita-senpai finally said, a little more loudly, “This is a regular from the championship team?”

Yoshita-senpai should, Satsuki thought dispassionately, have remembered who he was currently on a three-man team with. Kagami made a long arm without moving from where he stood, wrapped his fingers in the front of Yoshita-senpai’s shirt, and dragged him in close.

“When you can play the way he does,” Kagami’s growl nearly echoed, “and keep going the way he does, then you can talk. Until then, shut your ignorant face.”

Yoshita-senpai, nearly hauled up off his feet, held up placating hands. “Right, sure, whatever you say.”

Tetsu-kun slipped back into line for another run, apparently oblivious to the whole thing, and to Dai-chan looming on the other side of the court with a nasty look in his eye.

“Kagami and Aomine really are two of a kind, aren’t they?” someone said in Satsuki’s ear, and she turned her head to smile ruefully up at Imayoshi-senpai.

“In some ways. Shouldn’t you be studying, senpai?”

He gave her an innocent look, leaning crossed arms on the back of her chair. “I heard you’d gotten Aomine-kun to come to practice, and wanted to witness the historic event for myself.”

“He’s complained the whole time, but he’s stayed.” Satsuki shrugged. “It’s a start. I think he took Riko-san seriously, too.”

The teasing smile slid off Imayoshi-senpai’s face. “Good. Kantoku was getting worried about that.”

“He was right to be.” Satsuki wrapped her arms around herself for a moment, pushing away the thought of how much danger Dai-chan had been putting himself in. “But I think this approach will work out.”

Out on the court, Tetsu-kun paused abruptly in the middle of shooting. “Aomine-kun. Kagami-kun,” he said, firm and clear, not taking his eyes off the hoop.

Satsuki looked around sharply, and scowled to see both Dai-chan and Kagami frozen in the act of sidling toward the outside door, Dai-chan with a ball under one arm.

“Have you got eyes in the back of your head or what?” Kagami snapped, looking guilty.

Dai-chan just sighed. “Yeah, he does,” he muttered.

Tetsu-kun finished his shot and turned to look at them expectantly. Dai-chan and Kagami gave in and trudged back toward the court. Satsuki had to bite back a giggle when Tetsu-kun smiled, small and approving, because Aomine lightened up a little and Kagami scowled off to the side, coloring faintly.

No one said a single word about Tetsu-kun’s performance in the day’s exercises after that.

“I don’t suppose we can keep him?” Imayoshi-senpai asked her, just a little wistful.

Satsuki imagined Riko-san’s reply, if she texted to ask that, and laughed some more. “Probably not. But this should be enough.” She smiled softly as Kagami and Dai-chan argued over who got to have Tetsu-kun on his side for the next mini-game, watching how Dai-chan’s eyes turned bright and alive as he leaned toward Kagami and how Tetsu-kun let them argue, tolerant and amused. “It’ll be enough, now.”

She’d been afraid, for a long time, that her boys were broken beyond repair, but she wasn’t afraid any more. Watching them catch fire off each other, she couldn’t be afraid of anything. If she’d loved Tetsu-kun before, for his kindness, it was nothing to what she felt now, knowing he’d seen what had to be done and made it happen. It was enough to inspire anyone, and she smiled secretly at the thought, because she’d finally realized something. Her plan didn’t have to stop here. Her hand snuck down to touch her phone, and her smile widened.

Riko tapped her toe, arms folded, as she waited for Momoi under the awning of Kaijou’s sports complex, feeling conspicuous in another school’s uniform. Momoi, nearly skipping up the walk, seemed to feel no such thing, arriving at Riko’s side with a bounce in her step and smiling down at her cheerily. Riko was irritated all over again by the girl’s height and finally asked what she’d been thinking for months. “Why are you hanging around the boy’s basketball team instead of playing on the girl’s like you obviously could?”

Momoi widened her eyes. “Well, I suppose could, yes, but I really think I’m just not built for it. All the jumping would make things bounce an awful lot.”

Riko wanted to be annoyed by that dig, too, but there was such a sparkle of mischief in Momoi’s eyes, so much happier than the girl had been in the spring and summer, that it tugged an unwilling smile out of her. “Speaking of the problems with natural talent,” she murmured instead, and took some satisfaction in the peal of laughter she surprised out of Momoi. “Are you sure we need to take things this far?” she asked, more seriously.

Momoi sobered and nodded. “Yes, Riko-san. I’m sure. Midorin has his new partner to look after him, and I think Himuro-san will keep an eye on Muk-kun. But the one who looked after Ki-chan was Kasamatsu-san. And he’s retired from the club, now.”

“I don’t know whether I should call you an amazing scout or an amazing stalker,” Riko sighed, and twitched her uniform cuffs down, straightening. “All right, let’s do it.”

Kaijou’s coach glowered at them as soon as they appeared in the door of the gymnasium. “You again,” he said, eyeing Riko in particular, and she couldn’t help beaming back at him, immensely cheered by the professional vote of enmity. “What do you want now? Wasn’t twice enough for you?”

“Actually, Takeuchi-kantoku, we were hoping we could offer a little help with a potential problem.” Riko smoothed her smile into something a little more serious, and opened her hand at Momoi.

Momoi nearly sparkled at the poor man. “I think we can all agree that managing an ex-regular from Teikou sometimes takes unusual measure, yes? There’s an arrangement that’s been working out very well so far…”

“This is something I never expected to see.”

Riko looked around to find Kise smiling down at her. “What are you and Satsuki-chan both doing here?” he asked, tossing sweat-soaked hair back off his face.

Riko looked him critically up and down, and nodded to herself; Momoi had been right on target. “You’ve been pushing your training too hard, Kise-kun,” she said, loud enough for Takeuchi-san to hear. “You’re going to over-train, at this rate.” She really didn’t like the twitch in his calf muscles; that suggested he’d been working far too repetitively.

“It isn’t that bad, Aida-san!” Kise waved her concern off, laughing, but she thought there was a brittle edge to it. “I haven’t been doing that much…”

“Kise,” Takeuchi-san cut him off, frowning. “Exactly how much after-hours training have you been doing?”

Now Kise definitely looked guilty. “Not that much, really,” he offered, but his eyes fell away from his coach’s.

“I think you can see our concern, Takeuchi-kantoku,” Momoi murmured, utterly unmoved by the tragically betrayed look Kise gave her.

Takeuchi-san growled under his breath, arms folded grumpily, and Riko caught, “…bad as her damn father…” That made something in her glow, warm and happy, and she waited with her best copy of Kuroko’s attentive expression while he thought it over. Finally Takeuchi-san sighed. “All right, fine. You made your point, and I suppose we can risk a little experimenting during the off-season. I’ll give you a month to convince me this isn’t as insane as it sounds.”

Riko bowed smoothly. “Thank you, Takeuchi-kantoku. We’ll contact you about scheduling.”

He harumphed and turned back to his team’s practice while Kise looked at Riko and Momoi warily. “What is this all about?”

Momoi attached herself to his arm, smiling up at him. “It’s about trading you and Dai-chan and Kagamin around, to let you play each other more. Tetsu-kun, too, mostly to make Dai-chan and Kagamin behave.”

Riko had thought Kise seemed brittle. She hadn’t realized just how well he was hiding it until he lit up at Momoi’s words, shoulders falling open and easy all at once. “Trading…? You mean, officially, we’d be allowed?”

Momoi’s smile had turned gentle, and her voice matched it. “Yes. All above-board and everything. We’ll make it work.”

Kise covered her hand on his arm with his own, taking a slow breath, just a little shaky. “Thanks, Satsuki-chan.” After a moment, he remembered Riko too and bobbed a nod to her. “Aida-san.”

“If you’re going to be showing up at my team’s practices, you should get used to calling me Aida-kantoku,” she told him wryly. “You’d better get back to your own practice, now, before your coach gets annoyed.” She held up a stern finger. “And no more than one hour extra practice after! Don’t think I won’t ask Momoi whether you’re going over time!”

Kise ducked his head, rueful. “Yes, Aida-kantoku.”

“Better.” She slung her bag over her shoulder and cocked her head at Momoi. “Ready?”

Momoi gave Kise one last hug, and joined her. “Ready.”

They were almost at the school gates before Riko said, quietly, “They’re still a unit, aren’t they? Even now they’re separated.”

“Mm.” Momoi fiddled with the strap of her phone. “They’re… special to each other. Sometimes I think they only became what they are because they were all together at Teikou, and pushed each other forward. Well,” she smiled ruefully, “you’ve seen how Dai-chan and Kagamin are.”

Always pushing each other, and loving every second of it, Riko filled in. Almost obsessed with each other, and they probably would be if Kuroko weren’t there to rein them in a little.

When she caught herself thinking that, Riko stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk and scrubbed both hands through her hair. “Argh!”

Momoi stepped back a pace, blinking. “Riko-san…?”

What the hell was she thinking, relying on another first-year to manage her own players?! She was losing her mind, falling prey to the insanity that seemed to strike every coach who had to deal with a Miracle Generation player. Well nuts to that! Riko straightened her shoulders, glaring at the air in front of her. “Satsuki-san,” she rapped out, “I am not leaving them to muddle through this on their own. They have senpai, now, and we will take care of them.” She jammed her hands on her hips and spun on her heel to face Satsuki, seeing with new eyes the fear and stress at the corners of her teasing smiles. “And you have senpai, now, too, got that? We’re in this together, and we’ll keep them together.”

Satsuki stared at her for a long, blank moment before a different smile crept over her lips, a little shaky as it went. “Yes, Riko-san.” She was laughing a bit as she answered, but Riko didn’t miss the liquid flash of brightness in her eyes.

“Good,” she said, gentler, and held out a hand. “Don’t worry. We’ll make sure it’s all right. Right?”

Satsuki reached out and shook her hand firmly, smile steadying. “Right.”

“Let’s get going, then.”

They talked, all the way home, about how to best schedule rotations, considering that one of their problem children was a captain now, and how to handle things once tournament season started and they faced each other as opponents. It wasn’t until later that night that Riko got a text about the other things that had been said.

Thank you, Riko-senpai.

Riko smiled down at her phone, shaking her head. “Way too long without senpai, the whole lot of you,” she whispered, and tapped a text back before putting the phone away and getting ready for bed, and the next day.

You’re welcome, Satsuki-chan.

End

A/N: In hanakotoba, bell-flowers indicate gratitude.

Anemone In Sunlight

Kiyoshi is recovering from surgery and now comes the hard part: making him take it slow. In the process, Riko decides it’s time to deal with the things she and Kiyoshi and Hyuuga haven’t been talking about. Drama, Romance, I-3

Character(s): Aida Riko, Hyuuga Junpei, Kiyoshi Teppei

Pairing(s): Riko/Hyuuga/Kiyoshi

Almost two months after the Winter Cup, Riko gathered her club around her at the end of practice, grim and serious. “All right, everyone, listen up. We have a problem.” Hyuuga stood at her side looking equally grim; he’d heard the news already. She didn’t honestly think she’d be able to make it through this without his support, and she was grateful for it, but that didn’t make telling the club any easier. Riko took a deep breath, meeting the suddenly worried eyes of her boys one by one.

“Teppei’s surgery was definitely a success, and he’s coming back.”

Silence fell over the court for a long moment before it was broken by the first-years, with explosive sighs and little laughs.

“Jeez, don’t try to scare us like that!” Kagami told her. “You should be smiling for good news!” He paused, looking around at the second-years, who were all frowning or biting their lips or shaking their heads. “…isn’t it?”

“Kiyoshi is impossible during rehab,” Hyuuga informed him darkly. “As soon as he sets foot on the floor-boards, he’ll be trying to do more than he should.” He snorted bitterly. “He’ll try to pass it off as ‘just demonstrating’ but if you let him get away with that he’ll be doing moves at full speed before you turn around.”

“That’s the reason none of you even met him before summer,” Izuki put in. “Hyuuga threatened to throw him out of the gym if he showed up before his rehabilitation was complete, and Kiyoshi’s therapist agreed.”

“And now,” Riko finished, “he’s sent me this.” She held up her phone to show the message she’d gotten this afternoon.

Doctor says light training OK! See you soon! ^_^b

Her year-mates contemplated the screen with dread, and even the first-years were starting to look suitably worried. Riko blew out a breath, stuffing the phone away and staring at the floor for a long moment, hands on her hips. “It would have been easier if he’d had the same therapist as he had last time. She understood what he was like. But now he’s gotten the go-ahead to come back, and it’s up to us to keep him from tearing his knee up again before it fully heals.”

“Oh man,” Koganei moaned, flopping back against the stage. “We’re supposed to stop Kiyoshi?”

“The down-side of Iron Heart,” Izuki agreed, nibbling a thumbnail.

“Which is why it’s going to take all of us!” Hyuuga rallied them. “Everyone needs to keep an eye on him, and if he tries something he’s not supposed to yet… well, do whatever you have to.”

A daunted silence fell until Kuroko broke it, stepping forward and raising a hand politely. “What is Kiyoshi-senpai allowed to do?”

Riko growled with remembered aggravation. “His therapist says that for the next two months he can do light jogging, no sprinting, no cutting, no jumping. He can do the pool exercises and stationary shooting practice, though we’ll probably have to nail his feet to the floor for that one. No squats, no lateral exercises.” And the stupid man had actually seemed to believe this would be possible to enforce when Teppei was attending practice.

“And we can do whatever is necessary to make sure Kiyoshi-senpai doesn’t over work?”

Riko blinked and looked more closely at Kuroko. He looked back, perfectly level and calm—just as calm as he’d been when, now she remembered, he downed Kagami by the ankles to keep him from punching another player and getting thrown out of the game. Riko smiled slowly. “Well, I don’t think you want to be quite as rough with him as you are with Kagami-kun,” she said thoughtfully. “But yes. Whatever is necessary.”

The other second-years were starting to grin, too.

Kuroko nodded. “Of course.” He turned to look up at his partner. “Kagami-kun.”

Kagami folded his arms, looking down at Kuroko. “You want me to help you assault our senpai.” It was a statement, if a slightly dubious one, not a question. Riko reflected with some amusement on how good Kagami had gotten at translating Kuroko’s not-quite-orders.

“Just restrain, unless it’s really necessary,” Kuroko corrected, matter-of-fact.

Kagami snorted, half laughing. “Yeah, sure, why not.”

“Good attitude there,” Hyuuga approved with a certain glint in his eye, no doubt at the thought of Kagami sitting on Teppei or some such.

Riko clapped her hands. “All right! If we can keep Teppei from doing anything too outstandingly stupid for the next six months, we might be able to have him back on the team for the Winter Cup next year. Let’s do this!”

Her club chorused back agreement, and she felt about as good as she could over the whole prospect. Which still meant a lot of worry in the back of her mind. So when Hyuuga nudged her shoulder, while they closed up, and said, “We should go see him now, and let him know he’s not getting away with anything,” she was glad.

She really didn’t think she could do this without Hyuuga. He was better at shouting than she was, and she had a feeling there would need to be shouting.

“This is going to be such a nightmare,” she muttered into her coat collar as they left campus, fists jammed into her pockets. “Why couldn’t his physical therapist have seen what he’s like?”

“Because he looks all laid back and easygoing, even when he’s steam-rolling over top of you,” Hyuuga answered dryly. His hand rested on her shoulder for a few steps. “Don’t worry. The club knows what he’s like.”

“And thank goodness for that!” She snorted softly. “And for Kuroko-kun being used to dealing with difficult players, I suppose.”

It didn’t take long to get to Teppei’s house, and his grandparents were used to seeing her. Riko chatted politely, keeping an ear out for the sound she was positive they would hear soon. Sure enough, there it was—a brisk but slightly uneven step outside the little sitting room. Teppei appeared in the doorway and promptly lit up.

“Hey, I didn’t expect to see you guys until tomorrow! You didn’t need to come by just to congratulate me.”

Riko showed him her teeth, not that that ever really worked on Teppei but she wanted him to know she was serious. “Oh, it wasn’t any trouble at all. Really.”

Teppei’s grandmother smiled at them indulgently. “Here’s the person you really came to see. Run along, dear.”

Riko extracted them with a few more pleasantries, and she and Hyuuga herded Teppei down the hall to his room. She watched closely while Teppei pulled out some cushions for them and gave Hyuuga a taut nod: Teppei’s knee was still weak and he was wincing when he flexed it too far. Hyuuga sighed and thumped down cross legged on the cushion to Teppei’s left.

“You know what we’re here for, so don’t give me any innocent-idiot looks,” he ordered. “We’re going to keep you from overworking that knee if we have to tie you up and hang you from the gym rafters, understand?”

“The whole club is in agreement,” Riko put in, “so don’t think you’ll get away with anything.” Still in her uniform skirt, she folded her legs under her and gave Teppei an extra glare to make up for the demure position.

Teppei eased himself down, leg stretched out straight; she approved of that at least, if not the big simpleton smile he gave them. “I won’t give you any trouble, I promise! The surgery was a success, after all.”

Hyuuga scrubbed his hands furiously through his hair, turning it wilder than usual. “That! That! Don’t you dare give me that! Not after the bullshit you pulled during the tournament this year, and do you know how close you came to needing replacement surgery?!” He rocked up onto his knees, pointing a rigid finger at Teppei. “I’m keeping you from doing that again if I have to break your other leg, got it?!”

Riko hoped ruefully that Teppei’s grandparents wouldn’t mind the way Hyuuga’s voice was echoing down the hall. On the other hand, if Teppei’s sense of humor ran in the family, maybe they’d just be amused.

Teppei wasn’t laughing, though. He was looking up at Hyuuga with a small smile and soft eyes. “Thank you for being worried about me.”

Hyuuga’s outrage collapsed and he slumped back down, looking away. “I’m not worried, I’m pissed off,” he muttered, and Riko just had to roll her eyes. When Hyuuga looked back at Teppei, though, the pain and worry darkening his eyes were so obvious it made her breath catch, and she saw Teppei’s hand twitch, starting to reach out before he stopped himself.

Abruptly, Riko decided she’d had enough. She’d watched them dance this dance for two years now, circling around their love of the game, and the friction between their different ways of being serious, and the brilliant liquid flow of their teamwork together on the court—always partners and never saying it, Hyuuga never admitting why Teppei got under his skin, Teppei never pushing. That was more than long enough. “Okay, look,” she sighed, “you two are boys, and therefore idiots, so I’m going to help you out here.” She leaned over and gave Hyuuga a shove toward Teppei. “Just kiss him already!”

They both gaped at her. Boys; honestly.

“But I… you…” Hyuuga sputtered. “Riko, you’re…”

She scooted her cushion across the floor until she could take his shoulders. “Hyuuga-kun,” she interrupted gently. “How long have we been friends?”

“Seven years, now, I guess,” he answered slowly, frowning at her. She shook him a little.

“You don’t honestly think you’re going to lose me if you and Teppei finally make this official, do you?”

He looked down at her and asked quietly, “Just friends?”

Riko bit her lip. “I can’t be on the court with you.” And she’s always known that was what would make the critical difference, with Hyuuga, basketball idiot that he was even when he was in denial about it. It was why Teppei had reached him, two years ago, when she hadn’t been able to.

“You’re our coach, of course you’re with me on the court,” Hyuuga argued stubbornly. “Riko… you can’t tell me we aren’t sharing our thoughts, out there.”

“As captain and coach, sure, but—”

“Riko, you know I wouldn’t get in between you and Hyuuga,” Teppei cut in, so earnestly that both she and Hyuuga glared at him.

“You keep quiet!” they snapped together, and Teppei smiled and held up his hands peaceably.

“Definitely sharing your thoughts,” he murmured, though.

Riko froze, staring at him. He smiled back, calm and sunny, and she knew perfectly well that he was trying to give this to her, give Hyuuga to her. But his words made her think of something different.

Sharing. Sharing thoughts. Sharing feelings, all right, yes, she admitted she and Hyuuga had been very close for a long time, even if it always seemed to be other players who held the hottest parts of his attention. She knew they’d shared the same feelings when Teppei was hurt. If they felt the same way… If they both felt the same way…

She looked back and forth between Hyuuga and Teppei, thoughtfully. Hyuuga, who she’d known since elementary school, who was passionate about things the same way she was, who thought with her and followed her and looked at her with a hidden smile in his eyes. Teppei, who tried to fit years of living and knowing into months, who burned so bright under his easy smile that he’d drawn both Riko and Hyuuga in, who had wanted her fire, and Hyuuga’s, wanted them so much it made her heart hurt to think about. Slowly, Riko smiled.

“That could work,” she finally pronounced.

Hyuuga, with years of experience, was instantly wary. “What could work?”

Riko folded her hands demurely. “Sharing.”

Hyuuga frowned at Teppei, who blinked back at him, equally puzzled. “Sharing wha… wait.” Hyuuga’s eyes widened. “Kantoku. You’re not thinking what I think you’re thinking are you?”

He was actually blushing, and Riko grinned. “Why not?”

“Why not?” Hyuuga waved his hands as if to indicate the enormity of ‘why’, and Riko reached out to catch one.

He stilled at once.

She took a deep breath and reached out her other hand to lay it over Teppei’s. “Why not?” she asked again, softer, looking back and forth between them. The thought unfolded wider and wider in her head until it felt like it was taking over her heart, too. Something that wouldn’t make Hyuuga choose. That wouldn’t leave her out. That wouldn’t make Teppei do anything stupid like sacrificing what he wanted. Teppei turned his hand over to hold hers, and hope leaped up, only to crash headlong into his earnest, understanding smile.

“Riko, you’re the one Hyuuga wants, not me.”

Riko was pulling in a deep, deep breath to argue, or maybe to scream a bit first, when Hyuuga made an intensely aggravated sound.

“You don’t believe in yourself,” he stormed at Teppei. “You never believe in yourself! Everyone else in the whole universe, you can believe in, but never yourself! Idiot!” His free hand flashed out, catching a fistful of Teppei’s shirt, and he growled, “I told you once that I’d believe for you. Fine. I can do it again.” He hauled Teppei to him, or maybe himself to Teppei, and kissed him fiercely.

Riko had to blink back a sudden rush of tears at that, and blotted them with the back of her hand, not letting go of Teppei. “Boys,” she whispered. “Such idiots.”

She’d been right after all; she couldn’t do this without Hyuuga.

Teppei just stared as Hyuuga drew back to glare at him, which did nothing to hide how flushed he was now. “But…” Teppei started, low and hesitant. “Is it really…?” He looked over at Riko, who gave him an only slightly watery smile and scooted closer so she could lean against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” she said softly. “Really.” The careful way Teppei wrapped an arm around her, and the wonder in his eyes when he looked down at her, nearly made her cry again. So she tugged on Hyuuga’s hand, and grinned up at him. “So hey. Where’s my kiss?”

Hyuuga turned twice as red, and Teppei stifled a laugh against her hair. But after a deep breath, Hyuuga leaned in with one hand still braced on Teppei’s shoulder and kissed her very softly. The tenderness of it made her blush a little, too.

The sight of both of them flustered seemed to bring Teppei back a bit to his normal self, and he declared brightly. “Well then! Let’s have an excellent springtime of our youth!” He grinned innocently at their expressions.

Riko exchanged a look of perfect understanding and agreement with Hyuuga, and they both tackled Teppei to the floor, ticking him mercilessly. When his grandmother came to ask whether Riko and Hyuuga would stay for dinner they were in a tangle of cushions, Teppei’s hair wildly rumpled, and Hyuuga’s glasses knocked askew.

All of three them were laughing.

End

A/N: In hanakotoba, anemone indicate sincerity.

Poppies in the Wind

Sometimes, Kise just wants to feel the edge of how far he can go. Sometimes, he wants that off the court, too. Sometimes, Aomine agrees. Porn, I-4

Character(s): Aomine Daiki, Kise Ryouta

Pairing(s): Aomine/Kise

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.

Redoubled Peonies

Imayoshi decides to return Riko’s favor by throwing Aomine, Kuroko, and Kagami together in a match. It’s a different kind of revelation for each of them. Drama, Character Sketch, Romance, I-3

Character(s): Aomine Daiki, Imayoshi Shouichi, Kagami Taiga, Kuroko Tetsuya

Aomine Daiki was a cynical sort of guy these days, so he wasn’t really surprised when Imayoshi-san started showing up at club practices as soon as the national exams were over. Imayoshi-san was a bit like Daiki, really; he got bored without a challenge. Besides, Wakamatsu seemed happy enough to have his ‘advice’, so who cared?

At least that was what Daiki thought until Imayoshi-san decided his next challenge would be Daiki.

“We’re what?” he asked, really, really hoping he’d heard that wrong.

Imayoshi-san spread his hands, smiling innocently. “It will be the best thing for everyone, don’t you think?”

“Wait, wait.” Kagami was frowning a little, but not enough yet. “Us against everyone? You mean… me and Kuroko and Aomine against the rest of the whole club?”

“Only the first string,” Imayoshi-san assured him, as if that made anything more reasonable. “Probably only ten or so. So they get to practice stopping the kind of opponents you are, and you get a bigger challenge than usual.” He had the gall to smile even wider at Daiki and finish softly, “You like challenges, right?”

Daiki very definitely wasn’t looking at Tetsu to see what he might think about playing together again after the way Daiki had left him out in the cold their third year. Just thinking about that, about Tetsu’s reasons for turning to Seirin and Kagami, made Daiki twitchy, so he’d been trying not to. So much for that plan.

“This isn’t your business,” he snarled at Imayoshi.

“Whose is it, then?” Imayoshi-san asked, head cocked as if he were genuinely curious.

“No one’s!”

Imayoshi slanted a glance to the side, where Daiki knew Tetsu was standing. “No one’s?”

The urge to violence surged up in Daiki’s veins, like it hadn’t since summer, and he took one long step forward, hands curling into fists.

“Aomine-kun.” Tetsu’s voice cut across his fury like a dash of cold water in the face. “I don’t mind.” Tetsu stepped up beside him, looking up at him quietly. “Do you?”

“It isn’t…!” Daiki took a breath with one last glare at that bastard Imayoshi for pushing them into this. “Are you sure?” Sure it was all right, sure they could even try this after so long with Daiki playing solo, sure Tetsu had forgiven him that much, sure he’d forgiven Tetsu for taking a new partner. He was going to wring Imayoshi’s fucking neck for making him ask these things in front of other people, no matter how obliquely.

“We can try.” While Daiki tried not to wince at the ruthless honesty of that answer, Tetsu looked questioningly at his current partner. “Kagami-kun?”

Kagami was watching the two of them warily. “I dunno what you two are going on about now, but yeah. We can give it a shot.” He eyed Daiki more pointedly. “As long as you’re not an asshole about hogging the ball.”

“Tetsu decides,” Daiki said flatly. Didn’t Kagami at least know that much, after playing with Tetsu this long? Well, maybe he just didn’t think Daiki had known it, because he was looking more thoughtful. Daiki supposed he couldn’t completely blame Kagami for doubting that Daiki would follow Tetsu’s passes, considering he’d never seen them play together. He was in a bad enough mood over all this to glare at Kagami anyway.

Kagami just nodded, ignoring the glare. “Okay, sounds good.”

Imayoshi-san actually clapped his fucking hands. “Excellent! May I join in for this one?” he asked, turning to Wakamatsu.

“Might as well.” Their new captain looked sardonic, like he knew perfectly well this was an Imayoshi-special bit of manipulation, which suggested he had more brain cells than Daiki usually gave him credit for. He raised his voice and yelled, “Okay, first string out on the court; if you ever wanted revenge on Aomine, today’s your lucky day!”

Tense as he was, Daiki still snorted disdainfully. As if.

“I don’t think we should allow that, if we’re playing on the same side for this game,” Tetsu said, thoughtfully but with a glint in his eye, and Kagami grinned, cracking his knuckles.

“Yeah, I’m thinking not.”

A corner of Daiki’s mouth curled up, despite it all, as that familiar merciless attitude wrapped around him like a well-worn jacket. “All right. Let’s show ’em, then.”

As the three of them strode onto the court, he tried hard to remember how it had felt to play with Tetsu before their opponents had all given up and dropped him into the dark. What he remembered most, right now, was how Tetsu had valued their combination. Their teamwork. Exactly what Daiki was out of practice with. This was going to be more than a little strange, he was pretty sure.

Taiga was getting more and more weirded out, as this odd practice game got going. It wasn’t that they had no outside at all, even with Kuroko as their sort-of-point-guard. It wasn’t that Aomine was a a ball-hog, because with at least three marks on each of them at all times even he had to pass now and then. It wasn’t that half the ‘team’ against them now knew exactly how Kuroko operated and were a lot harder for him to get past than any other players would be. It wasn’t even watching their opponents’ double size team trip over each other now and then, though that was really funny and kind of distracting when it happened.

No. It was that Aomine was stumbling.

He kept hesitating in the middle of a move, jerking up short for a split second, which was all it took to get him marked again most of the time. The more he watched, the more Taiga thought Aomine was fighting his own reflexes, hesitating because he was trying to do two things at once. His foot would shift to cut while his hand shifted to pass, and neither happened. He’d already been called twice for holding the ball too long. Touou’s pink-haired menace of a manager was chewing her lip as she watched.

And Kuroko was tense.

Taiga knew Kuroko and Aomine had a lot of history to work out. He wasn’t throwing stones, not after Kuroko had been so good about him and Tatsuya. But he was getting pretty tired of watching Aomine fight with himself instead of the opponents. When the score was flipped over to show the other side ten points up on them, he finally gave up and stalked over to Aomine.

“Do you want to win this damn game or not?” he snapped, hauling Aomine nose-to-nose by the front of his shirt. “Unless you’ve lost your mind and decided losing is actually fun get your damn head in the game and trust your team to want to win too!”

Aomine had his mouth open to snarl back, and it stayed that way for a moment. Finally, he broke Taiga’s grip absently, looking down at Kuroko. “Interesting partner you found,” he said at last, almost mild.

Kuroko was smiling. “I thought so, too.”

Aomine blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “So. You want to win too, huh?”

Taiga rolled his eyes; sometimes he thought there must have been something in the water at Teikou. Asshole extract or brainless juice or something. “What the hell do you think?”

“I wasn’t asking you.”

Something dark flickered through Kuroko’s eyes as he looked up at Aomine. Quietly, he answered, “Did you think I wouldn’t?”

Aomine winced just a little. “Yeah, okay. Sorry.” After another long moment of him and Kuroko looking at each other he said softly, “Trust you to want to win. I can do that, yeah.”

Kuroko’s shoulders finally settled into their normal line, and he nodded to Aomine like they were sealing a deal.

“You guys still playing or what?” Wakamatsu called, and Aomine bared his teeth.

“Playing.”

The word hit the air of the court like a challenge, and Taiga smiled. That was more like it. He grabbed the ball and threw it in to Kuroko as Aomine loped back down the court. Kuroko spun and the ball screamed down the court after him. Aomine caught it, feinted forward, left, passed it fluidly back to Kuroko, cut past two of his markers and caught the ball again.

All without even looking around to see if Kuroko was there.

Taiga felt a little like he had the first time he’d seen Kuroko on the court, from the sidelines. Stunned breathless just because what he saw was that fine. If this was what Kuroko had been used to, with Aomine, no wonder he’d been so furious to lose it, so determined to get it back, so tense when it had looked like Aomine might not be able to get back here himself. Almost—almost—Taiga wanted to hold back, to not break that flow between them.

But Aomine slammed the ball in and Kuroko stepped into the path of the other side’s throw in, perfect and inevitable, and it was Taiga he turned to as he spun to pass the ball. As if he’d known already exactly where Taiga would be.

Taiga laughed and ducked past Aomine’s screen to drive for the basket.

Many people saw, and remarked on, how Tetsuya supported his teammates, how their strength increased as soon as he was on the court. Tetsuya thought he might be the only one who really understood how the reverse was also true. It was subtler for him, of course, but just as absolute. Without the trust of his teammates, his game was blunted, even if, mechanically, nothing seemed to be changed. His style of play required him to be aware of everyone on the court, to hold them in his mental hands at all times, and he needed his teammates to reach back to him before he could grasp them firmly. If they didn’t, if they hesitated, his game broke.

The reverse side of that, of course, was that when they did reach back nothing could break his hold on them. Nothing at all.

He could almost feel the weight of Kagami and Aomine in his hands, the way he could the weight of the ball. This, he knew, was why his game matched so well with Aomine’s. This was how Aomine felt the court itself, the space of it and the people in it. Kagami, on the other hand, he matched with because Kagami gave trust the way he needed it, gave it as easily as breathing. Tetsuya had never been more grateful for that than he was today. He was wringing wet and his breath was rasping in his lungs, he could feel the burn in his legs that would turn to watery, trembling muscles soon, and he never wanted to stop. The ball burned through his hands, heavy with the ferocity of his partners, and he gave his own fire to it and sent it back to them. Kagami’s teeth were bared as he jumped for the basket, kicking off the grip of gravity.

Aomine was laughing.

Tetsuya didn’t want this to stop.

All games stopped some time, though, and this one was only supposed to last twenty minutes. When Touou’s coach called the end, Tetsuya braced his hands on his shaking knees, head down, gasping for breath. The corners of his mouth curved up uncontrollably.

They had won by eighteen points.

“All right, there?” Imayoshi-san asked softly, stopping beside him for a moment. Tetsuya slowly pulled himself back upright, hauling himself up by his pride.

“I know how to pace myself with players like them.”

“I’m sure you do, when you bother to,” Imayoshi-san murmured, giving him a cheerful smile completely at odds with the implied scolding.

Tetsuya lifted his chin a little. “You were the one who started this, Imayoshi-san.” He hadn’t missed that Imayoshi-san had known Aomine wouldn’t want to play like this. He didn’t have any problem with Aomine’s ex-captain looking after the development of his players, but he didn’t think it was reasonable to then object to what Tetsuya had to do to make it work.

“That’s why I’m saying something.” Imayoshi-san looked at Tetsuya for a long moment and finally shook his head, obviously amused. “More stubborn than both of them put together, aren’t you, despite all the polite words? Well, I suppose I can’t disapprove. Just use a little of it to look after yourself, too.” He patted Tetsuya’s shoulder and wandered off to where Wakamatsu-san was talking to the coach.

Just in time for Tetsuya to lose his breath and stumble a step forward under the combined impact of an arm around his neck and a hand slapping his back.

“Tetsu!”

“That was fantastic!”

Tetsuya turned to see both his partners grinning, lit up with victory. More than one kind of victory, today, he thought, just as Imayoshi-san had intended. Perhaps… perhaps he could have one more for himself—for himself and for his partners. He smiled back at them, and held out both fists.

There was one frozen moment while Aomine wavered again, the way he had earlier in the game, and Kagami glanced between them with sudden hesitation, while Aomine’s eyes cut toward Kagami and away, darkening, while Tetsuya told his heart sternly that it was too soon to feel chilled, this could still work out…

The relief when Aomine and Kagami both reached out and bumped their fists against his nearly made his knees give out. He might even have showed it, because there was a flash of worry in Kagami’s expression and a flash of what might be shame in Aomine’s. Tetsuya straightened his spine, as contained and sure as possible, and let himself feel a softer wave of relief when they both relaxed. As they all turned toward the wall where bags and water bottles were tossed, Tetsuya’s gaze crossed Imayoshi-san’s, and the impressed arch of his brows added a sharper edge to Tetsuya’s satisfaction.

Whatever he and Kagami and Aomine might become to each other now, Tetsuya would make it work out.

Daiki lay on his bed, that night, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the shadows of the ceiling. Playing on a team with Tetsu again, however irregular, had been strange. Hard. It had hurt, trying to remember how they had fit together, trying to move like that again, feeling how far he’d come from that. He’d felt like he was groping for something in the dark, something that he thought should be there but wasn’t sure of. Looking at Tetsu’s shoulders drawing tighter and tighter, at Tetsu’s carefully blank expression, had made something curl up small in his chest. And then Kagami, of all people, had been the one to see it, to see what Daiki was missing, what he hadn’t remembered because he remembered too clearly why Tetsu had left.

Tetsu loved to win.

Tetsu wouldn’t hold back for any reason, during a game. He would be there.

It had been like a bone, no, like the whole world snapping back into place. And that had hurt, too, but the perfect balance of knowing Tetsu would be there on the court was stronger. It was so good to feel that. So good that, when the game ended, Daiki had wanted to keep feeling it however he could.

He’d almost kissed Tetsu right there in the middle of the gym.

He’d felt Tetsu lean into his arm, too, for one moment; he didn’t think Tetsu would have minded. But Kagami had been there, and Daiki hadn’t held on when Tetsu stepped free, and Tetsu had held out a fist to each of them. To both of them.

Daiki scowled up at the ceiling. He wanted to keep feeling that bond with Tetsu, but Kagami obviously had to be taken into account. This might take some thinking about.

Taiga watched Kuroko out of the corner of his eye, on the ride home, wondering.

Thinking about it now, he was stunned by how Aomine had opened up in the second half of their game. At the time, in the heat of the moment, it has seemed perfectly natural, but he’d looked so different like that. Not innocent, Taiga nearly snorted at the very thought, but… open. Lit up and laughing, and yeah there’d been an edge of wildness in it but hell, it wasn’t any more than Taiga felt in himself when a game heated up. What there hadn’t been was the desperation that he remembered from the spring and winter, or the cold containment he remembered seeing off the court. When they’d both pounced on Kuroko after the match ended, Taiga had almost expected that open, grinning Aomine to pull Kuroko all the way against him and mess up his hair or something. And then, again, Taiga had had a moment of wondering whether he should step back a little.

When Kuroko had turned and held out his fists to them, and Aomine had checked so abruptly… then Taiga had very nearly stepped forward instead, to catch his partner. He hadn’t quite realized how good he’d gotten at reading Kuroko until he’d seen the hope in Kuroko’s small smile, the fear and determination in his eyes at Aomine’s hesitation. He’d wanted to whack Aomine one for being such an idiot. He’d wanted…

He’d wanted to hold Kuroko.

Alex had teased him before about being overprotective. He supposed she’d been right. But wasn’t it only fair? Didn’t Kuroko protect him, all of the team really but Taiga especially, protect his game and his heart from whatever the hell had happened to Aomine?

Now he was wondering. Would Kuroko let Taiga protect him in return?

Tetsuya parted from Kagami with a quiet nod and continued on his way home, thoughtful.

He knew both his partners well, had to know them to play the way he did with them, and it wasn’t as though either of them was being especially subtle right now. The way their shoulders had pressed against his as they’d all sat on the sidelines drinking and cooling down before the next drill, the way Aomine had returned again and again to drape an arm around his neck, the way Kagami had stayed close all the way home… it wasn’t something Tetsuya had thought much about before, because Kagami was so casual and rough and Aomine had been separated from him. But he thought about it now, about the new layer to his awareness of their bodies next to his. About Taiga’s warmth and Daiki’s intensity.

Perhaps… yes. Perhaps he would like to hold that part of them, too.

The lights were on when he got home, and he called as he toed off his shoes, “I’m home!”

“Welcome back,” his mother’s voice answered from the living room, cheerful despite the worn edge.

Tetsuya looked in to see his mother, still in a tailored business suit, leaning back in her arm chair with her slippered feet resting on the table. “Did you just get home?”

She smiled, small and soft and weary, the way she only ever did when they were alone. “Just half an hour ago, yes. My flight out of Shanghai was delayed.”

Tetsuya nodded and padded through to the kitchen to pour two glasses of water and a smaller glass of her Yamazaki whisky. His mother laughed softly when he brought the tray out to the table and handed her the small glass. “I have the best son in the world.” She ran her fingers gently through his hair. “And you’re smiling. Did something good happen today?”

Tetsuya let the smile grow, just for her, looking up from where he knelt beside the table. “Yes. I think it did.”

“Aomine-kun?” she guessed. “Today was a Touou day, wasn’t it?”

“Aomine-kun… and Kagami-kun,” he agreed softly, looking down at his fingers wound around his water glass.

His mother was silent for a long moment. Finally, she touched his cheek, fingers light. “Be careful with yourself, Tetsuya.”

He’d known for a long time that he had learned to read people from his mother.

“I will be,” he promised, looking up again. “I found them for each other, but… they’re both my partners.” Personally, he couldn’t see any good reason to let either of them go.

A sparkle lit her eyes, at that. “That’s my boy.” She leaned down and kissed his forehead. “Hold on to what’s yours, and never mind the ones who say you shouldn’t.”

He nodded and slid up onto the couch beside her chair. “So how did your trip go? Your texts had a lot of grimace-faces in them.”

She flung herself back in her chair and took a substantial swallow of her whisky. “Every time I have to deal with one of Guotai Junan, it’s the same…!”

Tetsuya leaned his chin on his hand and listened. Not that he knew a thing about investment banking or corporate contract law, but this was what he and his mother did—listened for each other. It was also, now he thought about it, what he and Kagami did. Perhaps it was what he and Aomine could learn to do properly, now.

The thought made him smile.

End

A/N: In hanakotoba, peonies indicate courage.

White Camellias Turning Red

Aomine decides that, if Kagami isn’t going anywhere, he has to be included. This gives Kuroko a moment of uncertainty, but the direct approach might be the best one after all. Porn, Romance, Fluff, I-4

Character(s): Aomine Daiki, Kagami Taiga, Kuroko Tetsuya

Pairing(s): Kuroko/Aomine/Kagami

Aomine Daiki loved a really good game of basketball. As far as he was concerned, it was the best thing in the world, even better than sex.

He actually spoke from knowledge, there. Some people got all starry eyed over anyone with talent, and some people got turned on by anything that looked dangerous. So there had been kisses and groping with girls in school who giggled over it, and there had been hand jobs in the locker room with other boys who weren’t sure whether they idolized him or feared him, and there’d been a few women out on the streets who made speculative comments about his height, and there’d been that one guy on a street court who bet a good fuck on their game and he’d been a man and anted up when he lost, even though he’d had to tell Daiki what to do.

Daiki felt he had some basis for saying good basketball was better than sex, but hell, it had been something to try so he had.

What he hadn’t thought about until recently was that it might be possible to combine good basketball with sex. He hadn’t thought it until the night he’d come to Kaijou to play Kise and stayed so late they were the only ones in the shower. He’d watched the stream of water running down Kise’s back and reached out to follow it with his fingers, and Kise had turned and looked at him with eyes still hot and focused from their game. He figured, afterwards, that Kise’s experience probably came from a lot the same places his did. It was easy with Kise, and neither of them took the sex for anything but was it was: a way to stay in the place they found when they played.

Tetsu and Kagami, though… that was harder to figure out.

Daiki knew he felt a little differently about Tetsu, his oldest friend after Satsuki, his partner, the one who’d left and come back all to pull him out of the hole he’d fallen down. Tetsu had come back even after Daiki had pushed him down that hole too, something that still made him flinch when he thought about it. Tetsu was… special.

Tetsu, who had a new partner, now.

Tetsu, who welcomed Daiki wherever they met, who smiled at him again, who rested his hand against Daiki’s back when Daiki flopped down across his lap during practice. Who scolded him for slacking off in a way that was so familiar it made Daiki’s chest clench, made him trail along after Tetsu just to hear more of it. Who smiled at and scolded Kagami just the same way.

And Daiki couldn’t damn well strangle Kagami for it, because Kagami was one of his best rivals these days, one of the painfully few who could even begin to call himself that. Daiki thought it might just kill him to lose Kagami again after finally, finally finding someone like him to play. So there was really only one thing to do, and Daiki had decided to do it tonight.

He laughed as he slammed the ball in past Kagami one last time. “Ten! Another game to me, and you pay for food!” He touched down on the cracked asphalt of the little park court and grinned at Kagami, taunting. Tetsu had left them to it half an hour ago, after reminding Kagami of their test the next day with an edge of resignation that said he didn’t expect Kagami to listen.

Kagami caught his balance and straightened up, breathing hard, eyes still bright with challenge. “Fuck you! One more time!”

Daiki thought he really might be just a little in love. Well, that made it easier.

“One more time to fuck you?” he purred, showing his teeth. “Yeah, we could do that too.”

Kagami paused for a long moment, blinking at him. “…wait, what?”

And it was too easy, really. Too easy to take one long stride that brought him right up against Kagami, close enough to feel the heat radiating from him after their game tonight, and wind his fingers in Kagami’s shirt, and catch his mouth fast and hard. The sound Kagami made was startled, but his hands found Daiki right away, spreading against his ribs sure and easy. Daiki made an interested noise at that.

When he finally let Kagami go, Kagami stared at him with disbelief, though he still hadn’t backed off either. “What the hell was that?”

Daiki shrugged easily. “Seemed like a logical next step.” He watched, entertained, while Kagami opened and closed his mouth a few times, and finally kissed him again to stop him.

“Mmm… Mm! Wait, wait, wait.” Kagami pushed him back a little, frowning. “What about Kuroko? I mean, you’re… with him… well, it’s obvious okay?”

Daiki gave him an aggravated look. Why couldn’t Kagami just shut up and get down to the screwing, like everyone else? “That’s why, idiot. He’s not going to be happy leaving you out of it, so I’m fucking stuck with you. Might as well make the best of it.” Grudgingly, he added, “And also it gets pretty heated up when we play like this, though I gotta say you’re wasting all of that by talking.”

Kagami stared at him for a long, silent moment, and Daiki watched his expression slowly change, through confusion, disbelief, exasperation, sneaking pleasure. Eventually, it settled on a tilted kind of amusement. “What the hell. This I’ve gotta see.” His hands tightened, and he pulled Daiki back against him, tipping his chin up a bit to catch Daiki’s mouth in turn.

That was better, and Daiki cheerfully wound himself around Kagami, sucking on his tongue. The feel of Kagami’s arms locking around him made him purr, and he slid his hands down Kagami’s back, groping his ass. It was a nice handful. He laughed into Kagami’s mouth when Kagami growled and pushed a leg between his thighs.

“God, you’re pushy,” Kagami muttered.

“You’re surprised?” Daiki mocked, and smiled when Kagami snorted.

“Fuck no.”

Daiki laughed outright at that, amused by the way Kagami’s language was sliding even further down the scale than usual, and bent his head to bite at the taut line of tendon running down Kagami’s neck. That got him a satisfying thrust of hips against his. Satisfying for now, but not enough, so he closed his mouth and sucked.

“Ngh!”

Daiki smiled, eyes half lidded, at the feel of Kagami’s hold on him tightening, hard enough to drive his breath out. Yeah. This was what he wanted. He relaxed into it, flowing with the flex of Kagami’s muscles like he’d flow with a game, biting back up Kagami’s neck until he found his mouth again, hot and intent against Daiki’s. He laughed low in his throat when Kagami turned to push him against the the pole under the basket. He leaning back against it and hooking a leg around Kagami to pull him in tight. The breath Kagami sucked in when Daiki slid a hand down the back of his shorts to grip bare skin was plenty of compensation for the press of the pole’s plastic padding against his spine. He slid his fingers between Kagami’s cheeks and made a pleased sound when Kagami jerked against him.

“Did you plan this, or was it spur of the moment thing?” Kagami asked against his ear, fingers digging into Daiki’s back.

“Mm, pretty spur of the moment,” Daiki admitted, rubbing slowly.

Kagami’s hips ground against him. “Then that’s as far as you go,” he gritted between his teeth.

Daiki’s brows rose. Kagami knew what he was doing, here. That was good to know.

Knowing didn’t keep him from bucking a little with the surprise when Kagami yanked down the waistband of Daiki’s shorts, dragging his underwear down with them, and wrapped his fingers around Daiki’s cock. “Shit,” he gasped, “Kagami…” The pole padding was cold against his bare ass, and he squirmed a little.

It was Kagami’s turn to laugh, low and breathless, fingers tightening. “More later, maybe, yeah?” He kissed Daiki again, slower this time, deliberate like his hand was deliberate, stroking up and down Daiki’s cock.

A spark of challenge danced up Daiki’s spine, hot and excited, and he plunged his other hand into Kagami’s shorts too, fondling him from the front and back at once. The way Kagami moaned into his mouth tasted good, and Kagami’s fingers felt good wrapped around him, warm in the cool night air and strong in a way that made Daiki’s excitement burn hotter.

But no matter how Daiki touched him, dragging his fist up and down Kagami’s cock, rubbing his fingers in ruthlessly hard circles over Kagami’s entrance, those slow kisses didn’t speed up. They just got deeper. It wasn’t what Daiki was used to, but it felt good. It felt like Kagami was really paying attention to him. He liked that thought a lot.

Daiki hung on as long as he could, but when Kagami bucked into his fist, when Kagami moaned into his mouth, pressed up full length against him, when Kagami’s fingers tightened and stroked down him like Kagami wanted to memorize the texture of him… well, he dared anyone to hold steady through that. He pulled roughly away from the kiss and buried his head against Kagami’s shoulder as pleasure wrung out his whole body.

The weight of Kagami leaning against him was actually kind of nice, too, he decided in the floating daze after.

“Hope you have an extra towel,” Kagami mumbled against his neck. “Mine’s back in the locker room.”

Daiki laughed.

Kagami wouldn’t quite look at him while they got cleaned up, which had Daiki smirking. “Shy?” he finally prodded.

“Oh shut up.” Kagami threw the towel at him, scowling, and added, “You get to explain your own insanity to Kuroko, if that’s what the point of this is.”

“Won’t have to.” Daiki balled up his towel and stuffed it into the bottom of his bag, concentrating on his hands instead of what he was admitting. “He knows me. Knows you too, now. He’ll see it.” And then he’d know he didn’t have to choose.

Kagami heaved a vast sigh, and he had his hands on his hips when Daiki looked up. “Yeah, maybe he will, and then what’s he going to think? Unless you actually open your idiot mouth and tell him that this is all for his sake and not just you and me hooking up, which is what I’m saying you should do.” Not completely under his breath, he muttered, “Miracles my ass, the lot of you are total morons off the court.”

“Says the guy getting twelves on his tests?” Daiki shot back, having been at Seirin the day their coach saw some of Kagami’s exam papers that he’d stuffed into the bottom of his locker.

“That was in History!” Kagami snapped. “It’s different here, how the hell am I supposed to catch up all at once?”

“I dunno, actually knowing how to read, maybe?”

The deflection worked, and they bickered all the way down the road to Daiki’s turn-off toward the station. But Kagami’s words stayed with him. Maybe, Daiki admitted grudgingly, he was good for something besides basketball.

Maybe.

Sometimes.

So what was he going to say to Tetsu?

Daiki had about a week to think about it, and then he had Seirin’s practice hours during which he didn’t have much time to think about it, because Aida Riko was a demon in girl-shape.

“Footwork drills?” Okay, he admitted it, he was whining a little.

She folded her arms forbiddingly. “With your style, in particular, you absolutely cannot afford to slack off on exercises to strengthen your lateral movement muscles.” She pointed an imperious finger at the tapes set up on one side of the gym, looking like an insane cross between an obstacle course and a hopscotch grid. “Go! Kagami, you could stand to run this one too, but if I catch you trying to do it at Aomine’s speed you’ll wish you’d never been born.”

Kagami closed his mouth on whatever he’d been about to argue, and muttered, “Yes, Kantoku.”

The footwork drill was challenging, enough to actually keep his attention, and he had a good laugh when Aida-kantoku scolded Kagami for jumping bits of it, despite his argument that he was practicing his best skill. But all the while, in the back of his head, he was aware of Tetsu’s eyes on them, measuring. When official practice was over, and they were waiting for Tetsu’s senpai to finish their individual training so Daiki and Kagami could play, he wandered over to hop up beside Tetsu on the stage and sprawled across his knees as usual.

Tetsu hesitated a moment before he rested his hand in its usual place on Daiki’s back.

Kagami ostentatiously scooped up Tetsu’s water bottle along with his own and sauntered toward the east doors and the sinks to refill them. Daiki sighed; yeah, he got the point already. He was talking. “So, about Kagami,” he started.

Tetsu’s hand lightened, as if to lift at any moment. “The two of you settled something.”

“Well, he’s your partner now,” Daiki muttered under the smack of balls against hardwood and the echo of Aida-kantoku’s orders, resting his chin on his folded arms. “You wouldn’t like it if I tried to cut him out. So.”

“So?” Tetsu prodded after a long moment. “So… this?”

“So there was nothing to do but include him, if I want to be with you,” Daiki said, a little annoyed at having to state the obvious.

After a long, still moment that kind of wore on Daiki’s nerves, Tetsu let out a small huff of laughter. His hand rested on Daiki’s back firmly, again, and Daiki settled at that. That was better. He watched Kagami coming back with the water bottles with half closed eyes, finally feeling properly lazy again. Kagami leaned against the side of the stage, eyeing them, and shook his head.

“You’re both crazy. But, what the hell. Always seemed like it was the crazy ones this kind of thing worked best for.” He took a long drink from his own water.

Tetsu cocked his head at his new partner, not minding while Daiki stole his bottle for a drink of his own. “Does that mean you’re crazy too, Kagami-kun?”

Kagami’s mouth curled up at the corner as he leaned back on his elbows, watching their senpai out on the floor. “Yeah. Guess I might be.”

“Thank you,” Tetsu said softly, and Daiki watched with a certain glee as Kagami instantly got flustered, looking off to the side with his ears turning red.

Really, it was no wonder Tetsu handled Kagami so easily, if he responded like this every time Tetsu got all earnest.

“Not like it’s a favor or something,” Kagami grumbled. “You don’t have to say thanks.”

Tetsu smiled, tiny and obviously amused. “It’s something you chose to do that makes me very happy. Shouldn’t I thank you for that?”

Kagami turned redder, and Daiki laughed. “Give it up, Kagami. Tetsu always gets his way sooner or later; best to save time and just agree now.”

Kagami glowered at him. “Aren’t you supposed to be morally opposed to that kind of thinking?”

“Kagami-kun,” Tetsu said quietly, hand pressing a little more firmly against Daiki’s back, and Daiki had to agree with the pained look Kagami gave Tetsu.

“If you’re going to make me be nice to him, we’re going to have problems,” Kagami pointed out.

“I wouldn’t try to do that.”

Daiki always knew Tetsu was smart.

“But I don’t want to argue about that.”

That silenced both of them, and Daiki shifted off Tetsu’s legs, sitting up to drape against his back instead. Kagami half turned, one elbow still braced on the stage, and leaned against Tetsu’s knees. Daiki could feel Tetsu’s shoulders ease under their silent attempts at reassurance.

“So, hey.” Kagami nudged Tetsu’s leg. “You want to play too, tonight?”

“Hey,” Daiki objected. Kagami was getting better, and Tetsu would be a decisive advantage for either of them, now.

Kagami rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say ‘pick sides’. You remember that one Saturday Kise showed up and we played one-on-one-on-one?”

“And you played so long Kantoku yelled at us all the next day.” Tetsu looked down at him, smiling a little. “I couldn’t play the way Kise-kun does.”

“No, but that could be good,” Daiki said, thoughtfully, resting his chin on Tetsu’s shoulder. “For us to keep a look out for you, and try to keep the ball. For you to track the game and try to take it while we’re distracted with each other.” Even as he said it, he could hear the parallels with how they acted toward each other off the court, and Kagami looked satisfied.

“Yeah, like that.”

Tetsu nodded slowly. “That does sound like fun.” He wasn’t smiling this time, but his whole expression lightened at the assurance that, even in matches like these, he had a part.

Daiki exchanged what he was pretty sure was a look of complete understanding with Kagami. Maybe he was still a little jealous, and maybe Kagami still thought he was a jerk, but they both wanted to please their partner, to have those fierce, fearless eyes look at them and approve. Kagami agreed on that, at least.

He supposed there could be worse people to be sharing Tetsu with.

Later, on the way home, Daiki leaned his head back against the vibrating window of the train and stared up at the ceiling, thinking.

Tetsu and Kagami had gone with him as far as the little park Daiki and Kagami had played each other in a week ago. And, at the turn-off toward the station, Tetsu had reached up to curve a hand around the back of Daiki’s neck, and tugged him down and kissed him. He could almost feel it again, just thinking about it, the warm, firm pressure of Tetsu’s mouth against his. It felt like the way he remembered being Tetsu’s friend felt—like support he could lean against, like a demand made quietly.

And then, of course, because Tetsu was Tetsu, he’d given Daiki a perfectly bland, purely evil look and pushed him toward Kagami.

Kagami had been caught just as flat-footed, at least, and they’d stared at each other for a long, frozen moment. Tetsu had just stood there looking calm and expectant. It had been Kagami who’d broken first, scrubbing his hands through his hair with an aggravated sound. “Oh god, fine, just…” The look on his face when he’d closed the distance between them made Daiki expect something like their last kiss, something hard, but when Kagami caught his shoulder and leaned in his mouth had been light, almost hesitant. The word that came to mind, now, staring up at the lights running along the roof of the train, was gentle.

Daiki didn’t know whether to be charmed or outraged.

But he thought… he thought there might have been a time when he’d have kissed like that, too.

He didn’t know quite yet whether this was the right way to get back to what he’d had, with Tetsu, with his game, with his friends. But as he listened to the hum and clack of wheels on the tracks, he thought he was glad he’d reached out to include Kagami in it.

Aftermath

Tetsuya walked beside Taiga, smiling quietly. On reflection, he was glad Daiki had done what he had. Knowing he and Taiga had been together had given Tetsuya a bad moment, wondering whether he would be excluded from that the way he was from their one-on-one matches. Apparently, though, it had just been Daiki’s way of not making Tetsuya choose between them, and in the end Taiga had found a way to close the circle all the way and include Tetsuya in the matches too. It was the happy warmth of being with them like that that had made Tetsuya reach for Daiki when they parted, wanting to give the warmth back again.

It was that warmth that made him pause at the turn-off to Taiga’s street and look up at him, head tilted invitingly. It was hard to tell, in the dark, but he thought Taiga was blushing a little, and he had to smile. He reached out to rest a hand against his partner’s chest, feeling the quick rise of his breath. "Taiga."

Taiga made a quiet sound, reaching out to close his hands lightly on Tetsuya’s shoulders. "I miss hearing people say my name, you know. Nobody does, here."

"No one would take that liberty unless they were very close friends," Tetsuya agreed, and took a step closer. "Intimate friends." Yes, Taiga was definitely blushing, he noted with amusement. When one of Taiga’s hands slid up to cup his cheek lightly, he had to smile. "I’m not that breakable, you know."

"I know that," Taiga protested indignantly, though his hands didn’t tighten. "It’s just…" He huffed, looking aside for a moment. "This… it’s something people should take care, when they do."

Tetsuya softened at that. He wouldn’t have thought Taiga would be a romantic, but maybe it made sense. He was so pure-hearted; it was why Tetsuya had chosen him, after all. "It is," he agreed quietly, winding his arms comfortably around Taiga’s waist. Taiga relaxed and looked at him again, smiling back a little. When Taiga leaned down to him and carefully, gently tipped Tetsuya’s head back, Tetsuya let him, let himself rest against the warm support of Taiga’s arm around him, let himself kiss back softly.

The wonder in Taiga’s eyes, at the corners of his smile when they parted, made Tetsuya reach up, gentle in his turn, to brush back the wild mess of Taiga’s hair. The softness in Taiga’s voice when he said, "Tetsuya," made something catch in his chest. They stood wrapped up in each other for a long moment.

Finally, though, something occurred to Tetsuya and he cocked his head up at Taiga. "I doubt Daiki let you be careful."

Taiga growled. "He sure as hell didn’t. And, okay fine, it’s fun that way too, but it’s not like this!" His arms tightened around Tetsuya.

"Do you think it should be?" Tetsuya liked that thought; he wanted to see Daiki looking at him, at them, the way Taiga just had.

"Of course it should be!" Taiga was getting indignant again. "Otherwise it’s not special, it’s just fuck-buddies."

Tetsuya blinked a bit at that, but a smile spread over his lips. "I’m glad he thought of this at all, though."

Taiga looked down at him, quiet for a moment. "He wants you to be happy."

Tetsuya reached up and pulled Taiga down to another soft kiss. "I am."

And he’d be sure to tell Daiki so, too.

End

A/N: In hanakotoba, camellias indicate love and longing. In particular, white camellia indicates waiting for a beloved while red indicates current love.

The Tang of Hibiscus

It’s the end of the year, and Kise gets another shock from his captain, this one considerably more pleasant. Fluff, Romance, Porn, I-4

Character(s): Kasamatsu Yukio, Kise Ryouta

Pairing(s): Kasamatsu/Kise

Kise Ryouta was feeling absolutely pathetic.

What else did you call a team captain who, instead of going directly to practice when classes ended, loitered around the doors waiting for one particular senpai so that they could walk to the school gates together, before the captain in question sprinted back to make practice on time? At the beginning, Ryouta had had excuses: a question about the mountain of DVDs Kasamatsu-senpai had left him to watch, a question about club policies, about how to handle this or that club member. It was all perfectly plausible; he was still a first-year, after all! Over the weeks of January and February, though, he’d gradually run out of excuses and just showed up, two or three times a week, and hoped that Kasamatsu-senpai wouldn’t tell him to get lost.

Kasamatsu-senpai never had yet, and Ryouta was grateful for that. Grateful that the one person he’d had the most support, the most guidance, from was still there for him, at least a little. So he still waited, and still walked to the gates with Kasamatsu-senpai, and now they talked more about exams and college fees and whether the B-Corsairs would make it into the bj League play-offs this year.

Today Ryouta waited by one of the clumps of trees that edged the main walk, as unobtrusively as he could manage, and fell in quietly beside Kasamatsu-senpai when he finally emerged from the classroom building. “So,” he said after a few steps. “Enrollment lists came out today, right? Did you find anyone to go look at Toukai’s?”

Kasamatsu-senpai shuddered. “No. In fact, I turned my phone off all during class. I don’t think I could stand to get that news and then have to pretend to pay attention to history review.” He hunched one shoulder under the strap of his bag. “I’m going to go see for myself now.”

“I’m sure you’ll make it in,” Ryouta said encouragingly, and ducked as Kasamatsu-senpai swatted at his head.

“As if you know anything about it, yet. Toukai is a top school; even these days they can afford to be choosy.” They were nearly at the gates, and Kasamatsu-senpai straightened up and took a deep breath. “All right. Here I go.”

“Good luck, senpai.” Ryouta waved him out and watched for a little while before he had to sprint for practice to keep the coach from yelling at him. University, he thought as he dashed down the campus walks. It was March, and Kasamatsu-senpai was heading for university, was almost gone.

He pushed the faint panic of that thought aside and ran faster.

Ryouta worked hard, that practice, pushing himself harder than he had for a while. Their coach had kept an eye on him ever since Aida-san started throwing words like “overstrain” and “bone damage” around. Today, though, he needed this, needed to work until his muscles and nerves had the tension worn out of them.

Which meant he only jumped a little when someone spoke from behind him, as he was closing the outer door of the sports complex.

“Do you always stay this late?”

Ryouta spun around, startled. “Kasamatsu-senpai!” It took him a moment to realize he’d been asked a question and shrug sheepishly. “Not always.”

Kasamatsu-senpai pushed away from the wall where he’d been leaning, with an unimpressed grunt. “Maybe I should have been keeping a little closer eye on you.”

“You don’t really have to,” Kise mumbled, perfectly well aware this was a social denial, not a real one, and probably sounded like it; then he remembered and perked up. “Hey, did you get in?”

Kasamatsu-senpai grinned at that. “Yeah, I thought I’d come tell you instead of making you wait for tomorrow. I got in.”

“That’s fantastic, congratulations!” And Ryouta meant it, really he did, he just couldn’t help the little twist inside at the thought that it was really real. Kasamatsu-senpai was leaving.

Kasamatsu-senpai cocked his head, looking up at Ryouta steadily. “That wasn’t the only thing I figured I should tell you, now,” he said, finally, and jerked his head down the walk. “Come on, before we get locked on campus.”

Ryouta trailed along, curious. Surely there wasn’t anything left to tell him about the club; his various excuses earlier in the year had covered everything he could imagine, sooner or later. They turned toward the little shopping district Ryouta passed through every day on the way to school, quiet and dark at this time of night, except for a restaurant here and there.

“So,” he finally said, unsure what to do with all this quiet and searching for something to fill it with, “I guess you won’t be my senpai for much longer.”

Of course, there was never a guarantee that what he found would be any better than the quiet.

But Kasamatsu-senpai sounded genuinely amused when he snorted. “Just because I’m graduating before you?” He had his eyes fixed on the sidewalk in front of them. “Didn’t stop me last time.”

Ryouta blinked, trying to make sense of that a couple different ways before he gave up. “Um. It… didn’t?”

“You entered the middle-school club your second year,” Kasamatsu-senpai said quietly, almost musing to himself. “And it’s not like I played every game. No reason for you to remember, and I don’t think we ever even met.” He heaved in a breath. “I was at Teikou too, though.”

It wasn’t until Kasamatsu-senpai looked back and turned around that Ryouta realized he’d stopped walking. “You…” He couldn’t quite get past that first word.

“Mm.” Kasamatsu-senpai shoved his hands into his pockets, watching Ryouta with dark eyes. “First string. So I met Akashi, his first year. That’s… kind of why I didn’t say anything.”

“But…” Ryouta seemed to be stuck with single words today.

Kasamatsu-senpai sighed and came to grab Ryouta’s arm. “Here. Get out of the middle of the sidewalk.” He pulled Ryouta over to the concrete planters beside the sweets shop on the corner and pushed him down to sit on the edge. He thumped down beside Ryouta, looking down at his crossed arms. “I could see it, even then,” he said, low. “Akashi… he was different. And he kept pushing the captain and coach for more reckless policies. Perfectly polite about it, but… you could see he didn’t really think about the idea of losing. After the Cup this year, I’m pretty sure of it—he didn’t understand losing, or what it does to people, or how losing is part of the game itself. So he didn’t care.” He glanced up at Ryouta, mouth tilted ruefully. “In case you ever wondered just why I was so pissed off when you said that practice match with Seirin was the first time you ever lost.”

“It… I… the first time I’d lost a game,” Ryouta specified, dazed. "I lost all the time to Aominecchi." Kasamatsu-senpai’s smile un-tilted, and he nudged Ryouta’s shoulder with his.

“Yeah, when we played Touou I got that part.” He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, clasping his hands between them. “So. I didn’t like what I saw of Akashi, and I didn’t like what I heard after I graduated. When Kaijou recruited you, I wasn’t sure what to expect. But I knew I wanted to show you something different. Something I didn’t think you’d be able to associate with the name ‘Teikou’.”

“Something different…?” Ryouta echoed softly, still a little lost in the idea that he’d had a… a… a double-senpai at Kaijou.

Kasamatsu-senpai was quiet for a long moment. “It’s not like Teikou wasn’t always strict. It was. Screwing up bad enough always got you dropped down a rank. Competition to actually play was always fierce. But all that was so we could win. Not so we could win, if that makes sense.” He glanced sidelong at Ryouta. “Even if I hadn’t met you, you were still my kouhai. I wanted you to see what that was like.”

Ryouta felt like he couldn’t quite catch his breath. “I have,” he said, husky. “I really have.” Because, yes, what Kasamatsu-senpai said made perfect sense. And, no, Ryouta probably wouldn’t have understood before this year, before his new team, his new captain. “Thank you,” he finished, finally.

And then it hit him all over again, that he was about to lose this, and he pulled one knee up to his chest, leaning his chin against it so he could bite his tongue without being obvious about it. If he concentrated on that little pain he could push back the bigger one.

“Oh, not the puppy-dog eyes, come on,” Kasamatsu-senpai groaned, and pummeled his shoulder. “I told you already, graduating ahead of you didn’t stop me from looking after my kouhai last time, and it isn’t going to stop me this time either!”

“But… you’ll be gone.” Ryouta’s voice was unsteadier than he’d wanted it to be, and he looked away, embarrassed. He heard Kasamatsu-senpai heave a put-upon sigh.

“Idiot. Why do you think I waited to tell you this until I knew I was in at Toukai? The Physical Education program is based on the Shounan campus. I’ll be right next door.”

Ryouta stared down the empty street, not seeing it. That sounded… like Kasamatsu-senpai thought he might visit. That would be something, at least. "Okay."

Another sigh, softer this time, and Kasamatsu-senpai’s hand settled on his hair, much more gently than usual. His voice was gentler, too, when he repeated, “Why do you think I waited to tell you? After you spent nearly three months trying to keep me from really leaving the club, I didn’t want to say anything unless I was sure I wouldn’t just be leaving the city right after.”

Ryouta’s face was hot, and he was inescapably aware that, yes, he really had been that pathetic.

“Hey.” Kasamatsu-senpai’s hand slid down to his nape and shook him a little. “Didn’t say I minded.”

Ryouta peeked at him sidelong, positive that he was completely red. “…really?”

Kasamatsu-senpai was watching him with a faint smile. “Come here.” He tugged Ryouta down to him, and Ryouta’s breath drew in quick and shaky as Kasamatsu-senpai kissed him. “Really.”

Ryouta leaned against him, feeling how wide his own eyes were. “Senpai.”

“Twice,” Kasamatsu-senpai agreed, mouth quirking. “So relax a little, okay? I’m not leaving.”

Ryouta swallowed, a little shocked by how relieved he felt to hear that. How much he’d wound himself up in Kasamatsu-senpai without admitting it to himself. He managed a tiny smile, still feeling the warmth of that brief kiss on his lips, and agreed softly, “Yes, senpai.”

Kasamatsu-senpai’s hand tightened on his nape for a moment, perfectly reassuring. “Good.” And then he stood, pulling Ryouta with him. “So let’s go get some food. I was too freaked out to eat before I went and looked at the admission lists.”

On cue, Ryouta’s stomach growled, and he laughed. “Yeah. Okay.” He ducked his head and gave Kasamatsu-senpai his best winsome look as they started walking again. “Senpai pay for their kouhai, right?” It probably said something about them, that getting kicked for that settled his nerves.

“Of course they do, so quit looking at me like I’m one of your damn fanclub!”

It took a few moments for Ryouta to realize that Kasamatsu-senpai had actually agreed, and then he couldn’t help the way his grin softened, how shy the sidelong look he gave his senpai was.

Or how red he turned when Kasamatsu-senpai told him, eyes gleaming, “And that look you should save for somewhere more private.”

Ryouta floated through the next day in a bit of a daze, forgot all the answers on the History test, and started rumor galloping through his fanclub when someone spotted him doodling versions of the first characters of Kasamatsu-senpai’s name and his own in the fanciest style he could manage.

Kasamatsu-senpai was rolling his eyes and trying to keep a smile under control when Ryouta met him after classes. “It’s a good thing it is almost the end of the year, or you’d have the whole school in a panic.” This said with the cheerfulness of a captain who would never have to deal with Ryouta’s fanclub during practice again. “I could hear the shrieking two floors up.”

Ryouta ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I’ll have to figure out how to let Ryuu-chan down easy. She’s the front-runner in the rumors.”

“You’re way too nice.”

“I was trained to be!” Ryouta protested, remembering the constant murmurs from agency minders about Smile, now, Kise-kun, nice and bright. “It’s just for show, and most of them know it too. You know I wouldn’t—”

That was when the memory of something he hadn’t thought about at all last night, or today, dropped on his head, feeling very much like a brick.

“Of course I know, don’t be ridiculous,” Kasamatsu-senpai was scoffing, but he paused when he glanced over at Ryouta. “Kise?”

“I should have said before, I just didn’t think of it.” Ryouta resisted the urge to chew on his lip, something else he’d been pretty strenuously trained out of and hadn’t even felt the urge to do in years. “Aominecchi… we… it’s…” He made a frustrated sound at his inability to find good words for what was between them.

Kasamatsu-senpai was wearing a tiny smile. “Aomine, hm? I like the fact that he didn’t occur to you sooner, actually.”

Ryouta was coming to the conclusion that Kasamatsu-senpai enjoyed making him blush. “It’s just… well, after Aida-san and Momocchi set it up so we could get some matches in, it just… spills over sometimes.”

“Since I’m not actually blind, and have in fact seen you two play,” Kasamatsu-senpai said dryly, “that doesn’t surprise me at all.”

Ryouta took a deep breath. “It’s just… today is one of the days Aominecchi is allowed to come here for a match after practice is officially over.”

They stopped by the school gates, and Kasamatsu-senpai looked up at Ryouta thoughtfully. “So do you need me to warn him off, or do you need me to tell you it’s all right?”

Ryouta gave him an indignant look. “I don’t need anyone to warn anyone off, I can do that perfectly well myself!”

“So you want it to be all right,” Kasamatsu-senpai said softly, watching him, ignoring the slowing stream of other students walking past just a meter or two away. One of the things that drew Ryouta to Kasamatsu-senpai was the way he could see past some of the faces Ryouta wore, some of the things he didn’t say. But sometimes Ryouta wished he couldn’t.

Ryouta bent his head, studying his toes. “I know it’s a selfish thing to want,” he said, low. “I know… what that’s usually called. I just… when we play one-on-one, there’s so much, and it’s Aominecchi, he’s the one who opened this whole world up for me, and he’s coming back to us now, and…” He trailed off because Kasamatsu-senpai’s hand was on his wrist, light and warm.

“He’s important to you. I can understand that.” Kasamatsu-senpai’s hand tightened for a moment and let go. “All right. Play Aomine as much as you want. Even,” a corner of his mouth curled up, “if it spills over.”

Ryouta knew he was staring and couldn’t help himself. “It’s really all right?”

Kasamatsu-senpai’s crooked smile became a smirk. “Aomine isn’t the one you just spent three months trailing around after.”

Kasamatsu-senpai definitely liked to make him blush.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he continued, lower. “Go ahead and play with Aomine tonight. Come home with me tomorrow.”

There was not, Ryouta thought, enough air out here. At least, it didn’t seem to be doing him any good at the moment, because he couldn’t quite catch his breath. “Yes, senpai,” he said, husky, feeling how wide his eyes had gone.

Kasamatsu-senpai smiled. “I’ve seen the two of you play,” he repeated, “and you don’t look at him like this, even then. It’s fine, Kise.” And then he hitched his bag up over his shoulder and strolled out the school gates, leaving Ryouta wondering how on earth he was supposed to keep his mind on practice, now.

“Come on in.”

Ryouta stepped into the small, quiet house after Kasamatsu-senpai, toeing off his shoes and glancing around at the dimness. “Your parents aren’t home yet either?”

“Tou-san works late a lot.” Kasamatsu-senpai shot a small smile over his shoulder as he led the way up the stairs. “And this is Kaa-san’s mahjong night with her friends.”

Definite anticipation curled in Ryouta’s stomach, shivery and warm, as he followed Kasamatsu-senpai up to his room. His own mother, of course, had understood immediately why he wanted to stay over at his senpai’s house, and that it had nothing to do with watching match videos. She’d stood on tip-toe to kiss his forehead and told him to enjoy himself. Ryouta had smiled and nodded reassurance to the shadow of a question in those bright eyes so much like his. She’d relaxed, then, and said how good it was that he had a proper senpai to take care of him, and they’d giggled together while his father just shook his head indulgently over how flighty they could be.

Kasamatsu-senpai’s room was very like he was himself—spare and compact and stuffed with basketball. There were rows of magazines and videos on the book case, several shoe boxes stacked neatly in the corner, and he dropped his bag in what was clearly its proper place, beside the desk next to a larger bag that had one end rounded around a basketball.

“Going to stand there all night?”

Ryouta started a little, realizing he was still in the doorway. Kasamatsu-senpai was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him. “I… no, of course not.”

Kasamatsu-senpai held out a hand, looking rather amused. “Come here, then.”

Unaccustomed nerves fluttered in Ryouta’s stomach as he stepped slowly across the room. Kasamatsu-senpai’s brows rose, but his smile softened. He caught Ryouta’s wrists and tugged him down until he was kneeling between Kasamatsu-senpai’s legs, and gathered him close. “Sure you’ve done this before?”

Ryouta leaned against him, enjoying the hand running up and down his back. Softly, not looking up, he said, “I have. It’s just never been quite like this.”

“Is that good?” Kasamatsu-senpai’s hand slid up into his hair, and Ryouta let his head drop to rest on Kasamatsu-senpai’s shoulder, hands linked behind his back.

“It is. I… hope it is.” After a moment, putting his words together carefully, he went on. “You don’t like how I have to be for work. I mean, it was kind of obvious. So I was mostly serious, for you, unless I just forgot. Or unless I was trying to wind you up,” he admitted, and laughed at his senpai’s growl. The fingers cradling his head stayed gentle, though, and he relaxed under them. “This isn’t just being serious, though.” Serious was pretty easy, actually, especially in the middle of a game. Being not-serious and also not-joking made him a little nervous, uncertain how he should be acting. It felt good, though, being held like this.

Kasamatsu-senpai’s breath gusted against Ryouta’s neck as he sighed. Instead of the briskness Ryouta was used to from his captain, though, his voice was quiet when he said, “It’s okay. I’m your senpai, right? That means I’ll take care of you. So quit worrying so much.”

Ryouta shivered a little at that assurance, at the reminder of how clearly Kasamatsu-senpai saw him and understood him. “Even like this?” he asked, a bit hesitant. It wasn’t like he had much basis for comparison, never having had many senpai except in the technical sense, but this seemed a little above and beyond the usual call.

A huff of laughter was warm against his neck. “Like this is special. But I’ll still take care of you.”

Ryouta was laughing a little himself, with nerves and happiness. “Okay.” He lifted his head and leaned in, parting his lips willingly when Kasamatsu-senpai caught his mouth. The warm slide of a tongue over his made things easier, easier to just feel instead of worrying. The question of how to act would answer itself, like it always did, as a reflection of the world around him.

…he just hadn’t expected it to answer itself quite this way. With each kiss, with each button Kasamatsu-senpai undid, with each slide of fingers over skin, Kasamatsu-senpai’s touch turned gentler. Instead of holding Ryouta harder, he held him more carefully. By the time he’d gotten rid of the last of their clothes and tugged Ryouta up onto the bed and settled over him, he was cradling Ryouta’s face in his hands, kissing him slow and coaxing.

And Ryouta felt himself answering the only way that felt right, by relaxing more for every gentled touch until he was lying under Kasamatsu-senpai flushed and open and shaking a little with it. He didn’t do this, didn’t let his games and smiles and teasing all fall away. Never before, at least. It had never felt so right to do it, but now Kasamatsu-senpai’s careful touch was brushing those things away and Ryouta was letting it happen. “Senpai,” he whispered against Kasamatsu-senpai’s mouth, husky.

Kasamatsu-senpai raised his head and looked down at him with a little smile. “Under the circumstances, I think you can use my given name if you want.”

Ryouta swallowed, looking aside from those clear, dark eyes, shy in face of their steadiness. He felt exposed and sheltered at the same time, and the combination made him dizzy. “Yukio-san,” he said softly.

Kasamatsu-senpai turned Ryouta’s face back to him and kissed him, soft and easy. “Ryouta.”

The intimacy of his name, spoken like that, made Ryouta’s breath catch hard. “Senpai,” he gasped, a little pleading, and Yukio-san gathered him up tight.

“Shh, it’s okay.” A hand settled, warm, on the back of his neck, rubbing slowly. “It’s okay. We’ll go slow.”

Ryouta turned his head into Yukio-san’s shoulder, face a little hot. What he’d said earlier was turning out to be truer than he’d known. He never had done it like this before. Not with someone who saw him.

Not with someone he let see him, opened himself up for and offered himself to.

The irreverent corner of his mind observed that it was a good thing Yukio-san was prepared to treat him like a virgin. He seemed to be one after all, in a way he hadn’t even known. Somehow, the thought made it easier; easier to understand why he felt so shaky. He took a slow breath and looked up at his senpai. “Thank you, Yukio-san.”

Yukio-san brushed his thumb over Ryouta’s lips, looking down at him seriously. “I told you I’d take care of you.”

Ryouta closed his eyes for a moment at the rush of warmth that sent through him, and turned his head to kiss Yukio-san’s palm. Against it, he murmured. “Thank you, senpai.”

Yukio-san’s weight over him was comforting, and when he caught Ryouta’s chin and kissed him again, Ryouta let himself relax into the rising heat without resistance. Kiss after kiss, as Yukio-san’s hands stroked down his body, over his ribs, cupping his ass, Ryouta let himself answer openly, let his arms wind tight around Yukio-san to anchor himself against the way those gentle, steady hands on him made him shake. “Yukio-san,” he gasped at last, husky. “Please…” He felt Yukio-san’s mouth curve against his.

“Yeah. Now is good, I think.” Yukio-san’s weight eased off him and he nudged Ryouta’s hip. “Here.”

Ryouta let Yukio-san turn him over, heat and want curling together as he stretched out on his stomach and Yukio-san leaned over him to rummage in the small, square set of drawers beside the bed, where the alarm stood. The feel of slick, cool fingers pushing into him made him moan against the sheets. It was the slide of Yukio-san’s mouth against his nape that made him shudder with a rush of hot response, though. “Please…”

“Shhh.” Yukio-san’s lips brushed his skin. “I’ve got you, Ryouta. Easy.”

That care, that support, the quiet, serious warmth of Yukio-san’s voice, pulled a whimper out of him. The words worked his heart open the way Yukio-san’s fingers opened his body, and it felt so good, so very good. When Yukio-san finally pulled him up onto his knees, Ryouta was panting and hard and more than ready. He would have pushed back into the slow stretch of Yukio-san’s cock pressing in, would have taken him in faster, if Yukio-san hadn’t held him firmly. “Yukio-san!”

There was a flash of Yukio-san’s usual temper in his voice, softened by amusement. “I’m not letting you hurt yourself, and damn you’re tight, Ryouta. Do what your senpai says, already!”

Ryouta laughed, breathless and unsteady with the slide and stretch of Yukio-san pushing in. “Yes, senpai.” But he still wriggled in Yukio-san’s grip and moaned openly when he sank all the way home. Softly he pleaded, “I can take it harder than that, please, senpai…”

Yukio-san snorted, and his voice was getting husky too. “Pushy aren’t you? All right, then.”

When he pulled back and thrust into Ryouta hard and deep, heat poured down Ryouta’s spine like lava and he couldn’t be embarrassed by the sound he made. His hands closed into fists on the sheets as Yukio-san fucked him breathlessly hard, holding him steady for every stroke. It was so good to let himself fall down into the pure sensation, and his whole body flexed wantonly in Yukio-san’s hands, eager for this, for more. Good as that was, though, it was the sound of Yukio-san’s voice that wrapped heat around him until he was a little crazy with it. That voice, softened for him, whispering things like Easy, I’ve got you and I’ll take care of it all, just let me and Let go, Ryouta, it’s okay.

It was that last one that undid him.

He moaned out loud as pleasure burst through him, shaking him senseless with the thought that he was safe, it was all right to let himself go, to feel this as much as he wanted. The hoarse gasp above him assured him that Yukio-san was with him, felt this as much as he did, but those hands were still holding him steady. Not letting go. When the heat finally faded a little and Yukio-san let him down to the bed again, he kept on holding Ryouta close and steady, and Ryouta turned and clung to him shamelessly.

“Shh.” Yukio-san’s hand spread against his back, warm and sure. “It’s still okay.”

Ryouta nodded wordlessly where his head was buried in Yukio-san’s shoulder. He hadn’t felt like this even when it really was the first time he’d had sex. He’d never felt like this before. Never let anyone open him up like this. “You’re really staying,” he said, low, just to say it out loud and reassure himself.

“Yeah, I am.” There was maybe a smile in Yukio-san’s voice when he said, “So are you, after all.” His hand slid over the arms Ryouta had locked around him. Ryouta looked up at him, still flushed and shaky, more open than he remembered being in years.

“Yes, Yukio-san.”

Because Yukio-san brushed aside all the charm Ryouta met the world with and still wanted him, saw Ryouta’s selfishness and wanting and still sheltered him, because of these things Ryouta would stay here in Yukio-san’s hands. The gentleness of those hands when Yukio-san tipped up Ryouta’s chin and kissed him said that this was where Ryouta belonged.

More than anywhere else, right here.

End

A/N: When Aomine calls Kasamatsu "senpai" during the Kaijou v Touou game, it’s pretty clear that’s just Aomine offering a typically sarcastic token of respect for Kasamatsu’s guts in setting Aomine up for a foul. But I couldn’t help thinking, what if it had meant something more, what if Kasamatsu had been at Teikou and seen the beginning of all that craziness? I couldn’t resist using the idea.

In hanakotoba, hibiscus indicate gentleness or delicacy.

Wrapped in Honeysuckle

Aomine, Kuroko, and Kagami finally all wind up in bed together. Aomine thinks he knows how this will work, but when there are actual emotions at stake he’s probably the one with the least idea what’s going on. Romance, Porn with Characterization, I-4

Character(s): Aomine Daiki, Kagami Taiga, Kuroko Tetsuya

Pairing(s): Kuroko/Aomine/Kagami

“So.” Daiki flexed his foot and stretched his leg over the length of Seirin’s changing room bench, working the threatening cramp out of his calf. “New school year. Seems like the kind of thing we could stand to celebrate a little.”

Tetsu hesitated for a moment before he finished scrubbing his towel over his hair and nodded. “I suppose we could.” Daiki softened into a smile. Tetsu was the one of them who went at the most deliberate pace. If he agreed, then he was sure of himself, and a Tetsu who was sure of himself was unstoppable. It was something Daiki really wanted to get to see, in bed.

Kagami, on the other hand, was just looking resigned. “I knew this would happen once I let on I was living alone,” he grumbled. “First the senpai, now you. Fine, but if you spill any beer on the floor, you’re the one cleaning it up.”

Daiki blinked. For a perceptive guy, Kagami could be stunningly oblivious sometimes.

“Actually, I think it would be better to do this at my house,” Tetsu said, so calm and earnest that Daiki was instantly suspicious.

“Why?” Kagami asked, looking puzzled as he finished buttoning his shirt and scooped up his water bottle. “Your place is further from the station, isn’t it? More carpets to clean afterward, too.”

“Because we have enough spare futons to spread a double bed that all of us will fit in,” Tetsu explained, perfectly matter-of-fact.

The mouthful of water Kagami had just taken nearly hit the opposite wall and Daiki flopped back across the bench, laughing. Also a little flushed, because Tetsu had gotten to him with that mental image, too, but mostly laughing his ass off.

After a few seconds of coughing into his towel, Kagami rasped, “You know, when I came back they told me I’d have to adjust to how much more reserved everyone was in Japan.”

“Don’t tell me you’re just now figuring out Tetsu is evil,” Daiki snickered.

“Oh, I knew that as soon as he came after me with that damn dog.” Kagami glowered at Tetsu for a second before light suddenly dawned. “Hey, wait. Are you serious?”

Tetsu wore a tiny smile, now. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

Daiki felt an urge to wave his hand in front of Kagami’s face just to see if that would break the way he was staring at Tetsu. He suspected it might not, which was kind of cute and also a little embarrassing to watch. “Stop blushing and say ‘Yes, Tetsu’,” he prompted.

“If you want to,” Tetsu added firmly.

“He’s upright and breathing,” Daiki felt called upon to point out. “You expect him to say he doesn’t want to have sex?” Then he had to duck as Kagami swatted at him, glowering.

“I don’t know why he puts up with you,” Kagami growled. “I don’t know why I do, either.”

“Because I’m just that good.” Daiki lounged back on the bench, smirking. “Don’t forget to actually give us an answer, here.”

Kagami glowered at him some more, but it softened when he looked back at Tetsu. “Yeah,” he finally said, quietly. “I’d like that.”

Daiki grinned. Now they were getting somewhere.

Four days later, Daiki sprawled in Tetsu’s desk chair and considered their set-up. There was a double futon spread on the floor, taking up most of the open space in Tetsu’s room, with enough pillows for everyone. There was a pump-top bottle set neatly by the top of the bedding that Daiki was pretty sure he recognized the brand of, even though half the lettering was worn off the white plastic; that wear sent his mind down very distracting paths, thinking about Tetsu lying in the bed under the windows, strong slim fingers moving over himself.

The room was also furnished with Kagami, still a little damp from the shower and just about clutching a towel around his hips. Daiki was deeply tempted to tease him over acting like a nervous virgin, but before he got any further than smirking across the futon the faint sound of running water across the hall shut off. They were both looking at the door when Tetsu came in, rubbing a towel through his hair. Like Daiki, he hadn’t bothered with another, and Daiki grinned, anticipation curling through him. “So,” he pushed up out of Tetsu’s chair, “how are we going to do this?”

He had some ideas, of course, but he figured it was polite to at least ask.

Tetsu made a thoughtful sound, letting the towel drop. “There do seem to be some ways for three people at once,” he mused, “but they looked complicated for beginners.”

Daiki snickered helplessly while Kagami flushed from that towel right up to his hairline. “Of course you looked into the options.”

Tetsu gave him a reproving look. “I want this to work.”

Daiki softened at that and came to rest his hands on Tetsu’s hips, leaning down to kiss him. “I do too,” he admitted, low. He smiled wryly as he straightened, looking down at Tetsu. “So? Who gets to be first?” He didn’t think either he or Kagami was dumb enough to think that was anything but Tetsu’s call.

Tetsu’s brows quirked up a little and his eyes got the glint that made Daiki wary. In the same perfectly polite forms he used for everything from fighting with his teammates to answering questions in class, Tetsu told him, “I’m sure Kagami-kun wouldn’t mind if you’d like me to fuck you first.”

Daiki froze.

“You didn’t even think about it, did you?” Kagami asked, leaning back against the wall and finally letting go of his towel to cross his arms.

“Oh, like you did,” Daiki snapped, because it was a lot easier to glare at Kagami than at Tetsu right now. He actually hadn’t thought about it at all, he’d just… well everyone else let him do what he wanted… this wasn’t actually sounding very good even inside his own head.

Kagami just snorted and gave Tetsu a sidelong look. “Actually, considering the number of falls I’ve taken from him, yeah I did think about it.”

Daiki blinked and stared back down at Tetsu, startled.

“It was necessary,” Tetsu said firmly, as if they were talking about keeping up a training regimen instead of him downing his own partner. He’d thought what Tetsu had done during the match against Hanamiya was the exception, not the rule!

“So,” Daiki said slowly, “when you said, that one time, that you’d learned how to keep your partner away from the edge…”

Tetsu just looked back at him, calm and level, with such world-bending determination that Daiki nearly took a step back. “Okay, maybe I see why you thought about it,” he told Kagami, ruefully.

Kagami smiled, a bit crooked, and came away from the wall to stand at Tetsu’s back, arms wound lightly around his waist, above Daiki’s hands. “It’s Tetsuya,” he said quietly against Tetsu’s hair. “So why are you so surprised?”

Daiki winced slightly; he had to admit that he probably shouldn’t be, and he sighed, pulling his thoughts together. “Give me a little while to get used to the idea?” he asked Tetsu, running a thumb along his cheekbone. Tetsu smiled, small and warm.

“Of course. If it’s really something you don’t like, that’s different of course.”

But he didn’t get to get away with just assuming, Daiki finished the thought wryly. Yeah, he got it.

“So how are we going to do this?” Kagami asked, and Tetsu laughed softly.

“I don’t actually mind receiving.” He leaned back against Kagami and ran his hands up Daiki’s chest, slow and exploratory. “This time, anyway.”

Daiki and Kagami glanced at each other; Kagami’s eyes were dark and serious, and Daiki felt knocked for enough of a loop right then that he said, quick and impulsive, “Let Kagami.”

Kagami’s brows jerked up. “Are you sure?”

Daiki drew himself up. “Of course I’m sure.” Not like he was insecure about Tetsu or anything. Much. He caught Tetsu’s hand and lifted it to press his lips to the inside of Tetsu’s wrist, murmuring to his old partner, “But let me get you ready?”

Tetsu’s eyes were half closed. “Yes. I’d like that.”

Kagami shifted forward to support him at the same moment Daiki pressed closer, and they both stilled for a moment, eyeing each other over Tetsu’s head. But the way Tetsu relaxed between them, the soft, pleased sound he made, drew both their eyes right back down. Daiki was just a little careful as he bent his head to kiss Tetsu again, careful not to knock into Kagami’s shoulder, and they both slid their arms more firmly around Tetsu. This had been a lot easier to deal with when he’d only had to think about one of them at a time; then he hadn’t had to worry about how it would look if he ragged on Kagami to settle his nerves or let Tetsu pet his hair until he was just about purring. But both of them was obviously what Tetsu wanted. It wasn’t like Daiki disliked Kagami at all, just… they were too alike.

Alike in wanting Tetsu, in responding to him, to the warmth of his mouth against Daiki’s. Alike in being what Tetsu wanted, apparently.

On the bright side, Daiki realized as Tetsu wound his arms around Daiki’s shoulders and pulled him down more firmly, that meant Tetsu probably wouldn’t want one of them over the other, wouldn’t favor his current partner over his ex-partner who’d screwed up so thoroughly by breaking their game. Probably.

Maybe?

Daiki pressed closer, kissing Tetsu deeper, hot and wanting. And maybe Tetsu understood, because he kissed back just as hard, hands kneading over Daiki’s shoulders until he quieted a little, soothed by the feeling that Tetsu wasn’t going to let go. “Bed?” he asked softly.

“Bed,” Tetsu agreed, a little flushed.

It took a little arranging, but finally they were all stretched out on the futon pretty much the same way they’d been standing, back to front to front, with Kagami pressed up against Tetsu’s back and Tetsu’s leg sliding up to hook over Daiki’s hip and pull him closer. “At this rate, maybe we didn’t need the double futon after all,” Daiki laughed against Tetsu’s neck.

“I don’t think it would make anyone any less nervous to be worrying about falling off the edge of the bed,” Kagami said a little dryly.

“What’s to be nervous about?” Daiki asked softly, reaching for Tetsu’s bottle of lube, gaze fixed on the way Tetsu closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against Kagami’s shoulder. He glanced up at Kagami’s silence to find Kagami watching him as Daiki squeezed cool, thick gel into his palm. Kagami’s eyes were dark and thoughtful.

“No reason,” he said, finally, gathering Tetsu closer against him.

Daiki relaxed a little; at least Kagami had the good sense not to spook Tetsu with his own nerves. He kept holding Tetsu close as Daiki slid slick fingers down between Tetsu’s cheeks, but that was all right. Daiki wanted Tetsu to relax. He wanted Tetsu to keep making the soft, pleased sounds he was making right now, as Daiki’s fingers pressed slowly into him, and if having his current partner holding him helped, then that was how they’d do this. Because he didn’t want to have to stop touching Tetsu like this, feeling the heat of Tetsu’s body and the shift of his muscles around Daiki’s fingers, seeing the way Tetsu’s pale skin turned flushed and his lips parted.

“Daiki,” Tetsu sighed, tugging Daiki down to a kiss, and the sound of his bare name from Tetsu sent a little shiver of response up his spine. He kissed Tetsu slow and deep, fingers working inside him, and swallowed the little hitches of Tetsu’s breath. Part of him suddenly wanted to pull Tetsu closer, away from Kagami, say that, no, Tetsu was his, only his, but… he knew that wasn’t what Tetsu wanted now. He knew, it was just… He buried his head against Tetsu’s shoulder, touching him slow and careful. So careful.

He started a little when a large, warm hand settled gently on the back of his neck. “Easy,” Kagami told him, low and quiet. “It’s okay, right? No one’s going anywhere.”

Daiki had a hard time not lifting his head to stare at Kagami; how the hell had he known? The goal here, though, was to not spook Tetsu, so he just took a breath and nodded a little. “Yeah.” He kissed Tetsu’s bare shoulder and murmured, “Think you’re ready?”

Tetsu’s hand on his cheek coaxed his head up again, and Tetsu met his eyes with a thoughtful look for a long moment before he smiled. “Yes,” he said softly, like it was the answer to more questions than Daiki had actually asked, and kissed Daiki again. It was a gentle kiss but with a hint of fierceness; it was so much Tetsu it made him shiver. With that taste of fierceness in his mouth and Kagami’s hand still resting warm and steady against his back, it was easy to reach for more lube, to stroke it over Kagami’s cock and make a pleased sound that Kagami was hard for Tetsu already. Daiki fondled him, considering. He was definitely a nice handful, too.

“Fuck,” Kagami gasped against Tetsu’s hair, rocking up a little into Daiki’s hand, and Daiki had to laugh at the slow smile on Tetsu’s face, the glint in his eyes.

Tetsu wound his arms around Daiki’s shoulders and pressed up against him, murmuring, “Taiga. Come on.”

Kagami’s eyes were dark. “Yeah,” he said, husky, “all right.” He slid up tighter against Tetsu’s back and let Daiki guide him against Tetsu’s entrance. As he started to press in, Tetsu’s breath caught against Daiki’s shoulder, and Daiki had an unexpected flash of panic. Would this be all right, would Tetsu be all right, was this going to work? He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to the curve of Tetsu’s neck, hands sliding up to knead against Tetsu’s back, and whispered, “Relax, just relax, it’s okay…”

And then Kagami made a low, husky sound in his throat, and Tetsu did relax with a slow sigh, and a little shiver ran over Daiki as he stared at them. Tetsu slowly leaned his head back against Kagami’s shoulder, flushed, lips parted. Kagami was curled around him, eyes half closed with obvious concentration, big hands spread against Tetsu’s stomach. They were gorgeous together, and it wasn’t making Daiki jealous right now. It was making him hard.

“Daiki,” Tetsu murmured, tugging at his shoulders, and Daiki swallowed.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.” When Kagami looked up at him with a smile, Daiki remembered that was almost exactly what Kagami had said to Tetsu, and couldn’t help smiling back, crooked. Yeah, maybe Kagami was on to something when he’d thought about Tetsu being on top. Daiki ran his hands slowly down Tetsu’s body, tracing the sleek hard lines of his muscles, and thought seriously about tracing them with his tongue too. That would be awkward right now, though, so maybe later. Instead he caught Tetsu’s mouth and slid his tongue between those parted lips, and wrapped still-slick fingers around Tetsu’s cock. The way Tetsu moaned into his mouth, low and breathless, rocking against him with the flex of Kagami’s body, pulled a wordless answering sound out of Daiki.

It turned hoarse and half-shocked when one of Kagami’s hands wrapped around Daiki’s cock. He looked up to see Kagami watching him with hot, hungry eyes as he moved against Tetsu. “Come on,” Kagami said, husky, tightening his other arm around Tetsu and rocking in deeper if the way Tetsu gasped was any clue. And then Kagami smiled, a little challenging and a little laughing, and finished, “Daiki.”

Tetsu laughed, between them, pulling Daiki closer, and a little shudder of want and nerves and excitement ran through him. Tetsu wanted this. It seemed like Kagami wanted this. So maybe it was okay. “Kagami…”

Kagami’s fingers on him were slow and coaxing, flexing a little in time with the way Kagami rocked against Tetsu.

Daiki took a breath and tried the name out on his tongue. “Taiga.” The way Kagami’s smile softened startled Daiki a little, and he responded to it without thinking, reaching up to bury his free hand in that wild red hair. “Tai.”

Kagami… Taiga closed his eyes, leaning into Daiki’s hand a little. “Yeah.”

Heat was starting to unravel Daiki’s brain, the heat of all of Tetsu’s skin up against him and Taiga’s hand on his cock and Tetsu’s arms around him tightening when Daiki stroked Tetsu’s cock harder. In the middle of all that heat, it made perfect sense to lean in and kiss Tai, and perfect sense to let Tai’s tongue fill his mouth slowly, so slow and thorough and wet that he had to moan with how good it felt.

When Tetsu bucked between them, gasping, cock pulsing in Daiki’s hand, it made Daiki’s own body tighten, sudden and hot.

“Fuck, Tetsuya,” Taiga groaned into Daiki’s mouth, and Daiki could feel how he shuddered, how his thrust drove Tetsu harder against Daiki. Just thinking about that made the pleasure building low in Daiki’s stomach tighten sharply, and feeling it happen was hotter than he’d thought it possibly could be. He wrapped his sticky hand around Tai’s fist and held it tight around him as he rocked into Tai’s grip hard and fast.

One panting breath, another, and Tai tore his mouth away from Daiki’s and buried his head against Tetsu’s shoulder as his whole body jerked taut. Tetsu gasped again, soft, and pulled Daiki down ruthlessly against his mouth, kissing him hot and hard. Daiki moaned as Tai’s grip tightened a little more and one last thrust spilled him over the edge, breath cutting short and sharp as pleasure burst through him.

In the dazed, sticky warmth after, before any of them started to try to untangle themselves, Daiki thought about how unexpected most of that had been. How unexpected it was that Tai’s hand was still on him, just as easy resting there as Tetsu’s arms were around his shoulders. Or his hand in Tai’s hair.

Daiki hadn’t really thought he’d be a part of them being together. Not like this. He’d thought it would be him and Tetsu, and Kagami and Tetsu, and maybe him and Kagami too when they were warmed up by a good game. He hadn’t thought about something like Taiga kissing him and fucking Tetsu and Tetsu holding him and Daiki fisting off Tetsu and Tai’s hand tightening around him. It was a thought to make a person dizzy trying to follow it around. Dizzy and warm.

Tetsu’s fingers stroked the back of his neck, and Daiki realized Tetsu had been watching him all this time. “Is this what you want?” Tetsu asked quietly.

Daiki opened his mouth and closed it again. “It is now,” he finally said. Now that it was a possibility in his head.

Tetsu’s brows creased just faintly at that, but Taiga looked up with dark, thoughtful eyes. His hand finally loosened from around Daiki, slid out from under the grip Daiki hadn’t let go yet, and rested on his shoulder. “Hey,” he said softly, “come here for a second.” When he tugged, Daiki leaned in, only a little wary, and let Tai kiss him again. This one was a quiet kiss, slow and gentle, and it almost made Daiki twitch with not knowing what to do about it. “It’s okay,” Tai told him, thumb rubbing along the muscle of his shoulder. Tai’s mouth quirked. “You’re a complete idiot sometimes. It’s okay.”

Daiki glared a little at that, though he couldn’t get much force behind it because Taiga did seem to know what to do with all this. He looked back down at Tetsu, instead. “It’s what I want now,” he said again, low, and Tetsu’s whole expression softened and lightened. He leaned up to kiss Daiki, warm and open.

“Okay.”

Daiki wound his arms tight around Tetsu, head pressed against his shoulder again, and didn’t protest when Tai’s fingers ran gently through his hair. It felt good, in a way that made his stomach a little shaky with unfamiliar warmth deep enough to close over his head. Maybe, he decided, sex could be better than basketball, after all.

Some of it, anyway.

In hanakotoba, honeysuckle indicates generosity or devotion.

End

Evening of Primroses

Three moments in the developing relationship of Kagami, Aomine, and Kuroko as they all try to find a balance with each other. Romance, Fluff, I-3

Character(s): Aomine Daiki, Kagami Taiga, Kuroko Tetsuya

Pairing(s): Kuroko/Aomine/Kagami

One

Taiga had resisted for a long time, because there was such a thing as going down fighting, but the plain fact was that Aomine was cute when he was snitching food off someone. Taiga wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it, but Aomine did that thing where his eyes got brighter and he laughed while he made grabby hands at his target’s bento. The thing was, he let himself be elbowed off, and only sidled back in for another try when he knew his target was watching. It was a game. At first Taiga had thought it was just to make Tetsuya pay attention to him, but then he’d started doing it to Taiga too, and that look Taiga kept seeing on Aomine’s face when he went to snitch another of Taiga’s meatballs was…

Okay, fine, so he was probably just a sucker; Taiga admitted it. He sighed as he forked noodles into the extra layer of bento boxes that he’d gotten new this week. He was starting to have a lot more sympathy for Momoi, lately, seriously. And if this had only been more of Aomine’s competitive streak then he’d have been more than happy to fight it out to the death over the last croquette. It was just…

The way Daiki looked at him, sidelong and uncertain under the laugh, made his chest ache.

Two

Daiki liked sitting against Tetsu’s knees. He liked being able to rest his head in Tetsu’s lap and feel Tetsu’s fingers run lightly through his hair. And this way he could feel Tetsu laughing silently whenever Daiki made disparaging remarks at the television.

(Seriously, not even Daiki took risks that dumb; none of these guys should last ten minutes, let alone the whole hour and a half of an action movie.)

What was still a little stranger was to feel Kagami’s arm draped over his other shoulder from where he was sprawled out on the couch behind Tetsu like some kind of extra pillow. Kagami was actually the one who’d suggested movie night in the first place, and he just seemed to take it for granted that there was no reason for him not to lean against Daiki, or smack him on the shoulder when he talked over the dialog, or stroke a warm hand down Daiki’s neck when he got up to get more drinks.

It felt… good.

And if, sometimes, Daiki pressed back a little into Taiga’s arm and maybe even purred a little at the way Taiga’s thumb rubbed over his nape, well that was just a natural reaction, wasn’t it? Really, Tetsu had no reason to be smiling down at them so softly.

He turned his head a little further into Tetsu’s lap and tried not to think too hard about why the warmth of Taiga’s hand made his shoulders relax.

Three

Tetsuya would never admit it out loud, but he actually kind of liked how big his partners were, how completely he was enclosed when they both held him. It felt warm and secure, and he was more than willing to cuddle shamelessly down into that feeling.

Though he did have to roll his eyes, sometimes, at the way they bickered over his head.

"We are totally going to win this round, and you’re going down," Taiga declared firmly, at complete odds with the gentle way his hands were kneading up Daiki’s back.

"Already did that once today," Daiki smirked back. "That’s all you’re getting." The smirk was lazy, though, and he leaned into Taiga’s hands, snuggling Tetsuya closer into the curve of his body.

If it wasn’t so cute, Tetsuya might give them both a good jab in the ribs to remind them that they weren’t just playing a one-on-one, this weekend. But it really was that cute, so he reached up to slide his fingers into Taiga’s hair and tug him down to a kiss, instead. It worked just as well, in the end, and Daiki made a soft sound and bent his head to press a kiss to Tetsuya’s shoulder. When Tetsuya reached back to stroke his fingers through Daiki’s hair as well, Daiki settled comfortably against his back, and Tetsuya smiled softly against Taiga’s mouth. This was good, having both of them here, solid and warm, wrapped around him as close as it was possible to get.

He wouldn’t let this go.

End

A/N: In ikebana, primrose is used to indicate hope.

Ink Burns

Fanfiction by Branch

Walk Through the Valley of Lilies: All In One

Chrysanthemum Tea

Strong as Freesia

The Shade of Sunflowers

Colored Like Zinnias

Bellflowers Ring Silently

Anemone In Sunlight

Poppies in the Wind

Redoubled Peonies

White Camellias Turning Red

Aftermath

The Tang of Hibiscus

Wrapped in Honeysuckle

Evening of Primroses

One

Two

Three