Not sure where it came from (nothing new here really). The crime AU with Kise as spoiled a mafia prince and Aomine as a homeless delinquent. We'll se how it works out. Cross posted on ao3

'Well,' Daiki thought studying the gun pointed at his head with bemusement. 'Guess, that would be it, huh?'

It wasn't such a bad way to go, all things considered. It certainly beat wasting away from starvation or catching some unnamable disease from the other street rats that he lived amongst. And he would go with the bang, like he always wanted to, even if it was not the bang he originally had in mind.

Maybe the bullet will even smash his brain fast enough for him not to feel any pain.

Futile hope, that one.

"So," a voice drawled penetrating his existential inner monologue.

Daiki reluctantly raised his gaze to the man holding his death by the grip. His executor looked impeccable from the top of his green hair – which would have been hilarious if Daiki wasn't the one at the wrong end of the gun – to the tips of his polished shoes. He was standing tall, looking down at Daiki's form sprawled on the concrete floor of the warehouse with his mouth curled in disdain. Or maybe he wasn't looking, since it was hard to tell with rectangular glasses perched on his nose reflecting the sparse light from the windows.

"So?" Daiki parroted knowing full well that his loose tongue might just hasten his imminent demise. Better sooner than later anyway.

The man's glasses glinted maliciously.

"I asked you. Why did you think it would be a good idea to go stealing on this territory and why on earth did you think that it would be a good idea to show resistance when you were ordered to scram?"

Yeah, well, the latter was not one of his brightest moments. No use lamenting it now.

"Look, dude, I don't know shit 'bout territories and your guys didn't explain shit. No one has the right to order me around. At last not without paying for it with money or their teeth."

'Say you're sorry and promise to never do it again' scenario never did work for Daiki.

There was a distinctive sound of the gun safety clicking off and Daiki closed his eyes preparing for the inevitable.

"Shintarou."

It was said quietly with no emotion coloring the single word, but the lack of decibels did not make the voice any less commanding. The person speaking expected to be heard and obeyed regardless of the circumstances.

"Akashi, I will be finished here shortly," the guy, whose name was apparently Shintarou, answered without turning. But instead of the footsteps retreating and leaving Shintarou to finish his business, it sounded like the mysterious Akashi was approaching them. The man with the gun frowned, seeming to notice that as well.

"Akashi?"

The person that emerged from behind Shintarou's back was not at all what Daiki would have expected judging by the voice alone.

Akashi was short, at last eight inches shorter than the man who was obviously under his command. His head, full of blazing blood red hair, was held up haughtily, but somehow, instead of making him look like a stuck up kid, it brought something almost regal to his stance.

But even more terrifying than his imposing presence were the heterochromatic eyes that gazed at Daiki with the cold contemplation. One crimson red to match the hair and the other topaz yellow only lacking a vertical pupil to make it look like that of a cat. Daiki felt the chill run down his spine that even the gun hasn't been able to elicit.

Akashi shifted his eyes to his subordinate.

"So this is the kid who managed to take out five of your men before you were able to detain him?"

Daiki bristled.

He was not a kid.

Though, just as quickly as it came, his scowl was replaced with the smug smirk, because Mr. Green bristled as well, catching the obvious insult in his superior words. Visibly reigning in a more scathing retort, Shintarou pursed his lips and nodded.

Akashi's gaze returned to Daiki.

"What is your name?"

Now, Daiki was contemplating a quip, but decided that he had already filled his quota of bad decisions for one day.

"Aomine Daiki."

"Dai-ki," Akashi said as if testing the name on his tongue, to see if he liked the sound of it. "Hm, I believe I heard you saying that a sufficient payment would be the key to your obedience, is that right?"

That was not exactly what Daiki said, but while he was not known for his intellectual prowess, he was not fool enough not to see a beneficial offer when he was given one.

The outraged look on his almost-executor's face was a nice bonus as well.

"It might be."

A ghost of a smirk flitted over Akashi's lips. Apparently that was a good answer.

"Well, Daiki. As you've probably already gathered, I have an offer for you. A job offer."

"And what would it consist of?" Daiki asked cautiously matching the tone of his possible employer, the guy obviously didn't run a flower shop chain and it always paid to be careful when someone offered you money.

The look he got in return was asking if he really thought he had a choice in the matter.

One thing that living on the streets taught Daiki was that any judgment that might come later was not worth a bother if your stomach was constricting with pain from the sheer emptiness. But there were lines, though somewhat blurry ones, which he would not cross, even under the barrel of the gun.

Akashi seemed to understand that, because after a moment of silence he elaborated.

"You see," he said with the put upon sigh. "I need a guard for something really precious to me and you seem to fit the requirements for the job. You would be of course paid very generously and will have to live in the manor with the rest of the family."

Yep, definitely not a flower shop.

But that was vague as far as explanations went. The guy was obviously omitting something and Daiki didn't miss the grimace that passed over the green haired man's face. But on the other hand he was offered two things that he didn't remember ever having in affluence: money and the roof over his head.

It was probably dangerous, had to be, but then Daiki wasn't exactly living in a safe environment.

Pros were so far overweighting the cons.

And really, it can't be much worse than what he had now, he thought giving his affirmative answer.

He would regret that thought later.

➶⁀➷‿➶⁀➷➶⁀➷‿➶⁀➷➶⁀➷‿➶⁀➷➶⁀➷‿➶⁀➷➶⁀➷‿➶⁀➷

Kise Ryouta would not call himself spoiled.

Privileged, yes. That would be the word he would use.

Being the youngest son, he was always doted upon and in the family that had never wanted for anything that meant he was spoiled rotten by all the things money could buy.

And as far as Ryouta was concerned, money could buy anything.

Or anything except for freedom he wanted so much.

His older brother, who was now running the family with an iron fist and hawk-like eyes, apparently didn't consider his desire to go out and have fun a basic necessity, and with the death of their parents and the threat hanging over their own heads only the basics were allowed. Apparently.

The problem with that arrangement was that Ryouta was slowly starting to climb the walls from the sheer boredom.

He even let Momo-cchi paint his nails pink, which he was now seriously regretting because he had no idea how to take the blasted paint off and the hellish woman was gone on assignment and not due to return any time soon.

His next logical step would be to start banging his head on the wall.

Or… he paused just now coming to the realization that he was very much alone.

Well, no, not alone in the strictest of sense, but in all sense that pertained to his current problem.

Akashi was out, taking his loyal dog Midorima with him.

Murasakibara was probably in the kitchen munching away on the never ending supply of snacks and annoying the cook with his unhealthy eating habits.

The only person who might pose a problem was Kuroko-cchi, because while he was nowhere to be seen, that did not mean that he was not around.

But maybe, just maybe, the luck would be on Ryouta's side today and there will be no one to stop him from walking out of that blasted door.

He should have known that he already exhausted his luck limit for the lifetime the moment he was born.

Just as he was about to step out on the porch, a sleek black car pulled into the driveway.

Unfortunately, Ryouta knew exactly who that car belonged to. And unfortunately for Ryouta it was the last person that would ever let him leave the house.

His hand squeezed the door handle in frustration.

Just as the car came to a stop, Ryouta schooled his features back into the look of boredom and forced his body to relax as much as possible. Judging by the narrow eyed look his brother sent him as he got out of the car, Ryouta's last-ditch attempt at nonchalance was not all that successful. His attention was diverted however, when the next person to step onto the driveway was not Midorima he was expecting to see.

A dark skinned young man, probably somewhere around Ryouta's age, was looking at the house with astounded midnight blue eyes, his lips parted a little in awe.

Ryouta wrinkled his nose. The newcomer's clothes were shabby and dirty. He could only imagine the smell, but rather wouldn't.

"Akashi-cchi," he drawled still grimacing in disgust. "I thought you promised not to bring work home."

He felt the young man's eyes snap in his direction, but didn't pay him any attention.

Akashi took a step forward.

"Ryouta, I know that you don't like being coped up in the house all the time," he said ignoring Ryouta's jab in the dark skinned man's direction.

Oh, shit. Not the lecture, please.

His desire to protest must have been written on his face, because before Ryouta could even open his mouth, Akashi's hand rose in a halting gesture.

"I found the solution to that problem. You can now go wherever you like, within reason of course, but you must always have someone to escort you."

"But…"

"Please meet your new bodyguard. This is Aomine Daiki."

Ryouta's mouth fell open, eyes darting to the equally shocked face of his would-be bodyguard.

Careful what you wish for, was it?