ficlet for kingmakochan on tumblr, with prompt: aokaga, meeting online au

stereo conversion

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Aomine's looking to pass time when he stumbles on a dating site called eHarmony or something, bothering to read the claim ("Our trusted dating site matches couples on 29 dimensions of compatibility for long lasting relationships," it says, and when Aomine sees the word 'scientific' thrown somewhere into the persuasive intro he immediately thinks that it's legit stuff and he might actually find someone who complements him really well.) In hindsight, he shouldn't have used the computer in the school library to browse through the profiles because a) As soon as she discovers Aomine's whereabouts, Momoi reels in shock that he's sitting with books within a ten-foot radius and b) she instantaneously groans in exasperation and stomps her foot in impatience.

"Dai-chan," Momoi presses, pointing to the screen in irritation. "First of all, you have homework. Second, you can't trust people on the internet, you never know-"

Aomine turns to her, his eyes already drooping from irk. "Can I do something without you screaming my ear off every five minutes? Thanks."

Folding her arms over her chest, Momoi hmphs. "Sure, when you stop acting like a baby on a daily basis. I'm serious-the last thing I thought you'd be doing is surfing through dating sites, and apparently I still don't know much of the weird things you do in your free time even though we've been stuck together since forever."

"If there's anyone who should be complaining, it's me," Aomine says, clicking on a profile that says something about basketball in it. Interesting. "Okay, just walk out, pretend you never saw me, and go on with your life. We'll both rest in peace when you do."

"Homework," Momoi drills, flicking the back of Aomine's head for good measure. She blinks when Aomine doesn't react and stares at him scrolling through one particular profile. Aomine's murmur of oh shit, there's a damn registration fee makes her raise her eyebrows in suspicion at the male's sudden desperation to get a headstart in his non-existent romantic life.

Before Momoi can turn on her heel and sigh in surrender, Aomine calls out, "Hey, Satsuki."

Momoi cocks her head in question, and Aomine scratches the back of his head as he says, "Lend me a few bucks."

"Eh?" It takes a split-second for Momoi to process what had just transpired, and she briefly considers asking Aomine if he really is the Aomine she knows before she blurts, "You can't spend money on something that hasn't been certified!"

"Why the fuck not?" retorts Aomine, who squints at the small text on the bottom of the homepage. "Dr.-I dunno how to pronounce his name but-the guy who set this site up was a doctor, and it says here that he used extensive research to determine blahblahblahblah. Point is, this is as real as your boobs, and that's saying a lot."

At the mention of boobs, Momoi punches Aomine in the arm and says, "Still! I don't have money, anyway, and if ever I did I wouldn't waste it on that."

"You should've just said," Aomine blankly stares at her and returns to scrutinizing the site. "Well, I'm gonna find a way. Some dude here has a great profile and is great with balls, and I think I wanna chat him up."

Aghast, Momoi says, "I thought you were going to say something like "I won't die as a virgin" but you're looking up a guy whom you want to play ball with."

Aomine contemplates on it for a minute before he responds with, "I didn't say anything about not saying something about not getting fucked once."

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Aomine turns back to the PC wordlessly when Momoi inadvertently utters, "Ohmygod."

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The guy's name is Taiga and sucks big-time in Japanese (Aomine has to google some English phrases here and there because fuck if he's not interested but this language barrier is just not working out for them). It's the first time in ages that Aomine's saved up some of his weekly allowances to pay for the membership, but Taiga actually brings up the idea of transferring to a free social media site to avoid the cost but still get the chance to talk.

Brilliant, Aomine thinks, figuring he should've had the common sense to have thought of it first. Maybe Taiga could think for the both of them so he won't get to wear his brain cells out.

"Okay," Aomine says, adjusting his laptop so he can see the screen that's pretty much showing nothing save for a blue background and an avatar of some nice Nike's. "Can you hear me?"

It takes a while before Taiga responds, his voice deep and unsure and a million miles away. "Yeah, I think," he says, some of the syllables drawn out by bad internet connection. "You?"

Aomine's gaze shifts to the side as he presses his ear to the speakers. "Yeah, good enough."

From what he hears, Taiga shifts a little, exhaling softly as he moves. They sit in silence for a while before Taiga says, "So. This is kinda weird."

"Not really," Aomine answers, yawning to rid himself of the post-nap drowsiness. He has the timezone converter open in another tab, and the fact that Taiga's awake at 1am paints a smug smile across his face. "What's up?"

Taiga pauses and laughs soon after, the sound immediately stirring Aomine into focus. "I really want to say 'my dick' since I can't let an opportunity like this pass, but. I guess everything's going great. Had a couple of hours to practice outside so I got sunburned."

"Bet you'd still look good, though," Aomine says mindlessly, trying to form a picture in his mind-a half-naked Taiga shooting hoops under the scorching sunlight, sweat streaking his biceps as he jumps for the dunk-

Damn, Aomine thinks, shaking his head to prevent a hard-on out of nowhere. He doesn't even know what this guy looks like, so he could probably hold off the fantasies for a while. On the other end of the line, Taiga snorts and replies, "Nah, LA summers are just unforgiving. How about you? Anything interesting lately?"

Aomine mulls over it for a moment. "Not really. Skipped practice to sleep."

Taiga murmurs a Hmmm. "And you say nobody can beat you."

"Hey, you can come anytime and take my word for it," Aomine says, thrilled at the prospect that Taiga could hop on a plane and find himself in Tokyo just to try to beat Aomine without ever coming close. Now that he's thought about it, maybe he could convince Taiga to book a flight and stay over for at least a weekend. They could probably fit twenty one-on-one's and amazing sex into forty eight hours.

"Oh shit," Taiga mutters to himself as footsteps echo behind him. "Gotta go, man. I still have to pack some stuff, so I'll probably talk to you later."

Aomine only hears the word 'pack' and says, "What? Where are you going?"

He stares disconcerted at the screen as Taiga disconnects the call, the Skype tone ringing in Aomine's ears.

If only Taiga didn't rouse his interest as much as he does right now, Aomine would've typed 'ASSHOLE' and slammed his middle finger down the Enter button so hard that he would've had to ask Midorima for some extra tape.

Good thing that Taiga's voice alone fucking turns him on, then.

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It's been three months since he last heard from Taiga (five months since the beginning of his pursuit of a relationship other than the one with his bed, three months since the last Skype call, and two months since the messages stopped coming and bombarding his phone with notifications that he really doesn't mind, except when Taiga sends him good-morning messages like the sappy idiot that he is and Aomine has to mind because seconds later he'd be burying his face into his hands to curb the tingling sensation at the base of his spine).

To top it off, Aomine meets an incredibly annoying and mouthy guy who's practicing at the street court, heaving after only a few dunks here and there. Aomine strides over to him and comments, his pinky finding his ear, "You wanna go one-on-one?"

The guy turns around, hiking his collar up to wipe the sweat on his cheek. His funny eyebrows cross. "Who the fuck are you, man?"

Aomine tries hard not to eye the six-pack peeking from under the guy's white shirt and says, "One-on-one. You look like you're about to pass out, so let's try to liven things up."

Tucking the ball into the crook of his arm, the guy says, "Full of it, huh. Let's see what you've got."

Aomine tsks and receives the ball thrown in his direction. The guy's build isn't so bad, but he's still lacking when it comes to skill and Aomine knows that he can hardly sweat it off if the game's going to be this easy.

"Hey, don't hold back," the guy says in a remarkably familiar yet still peculiar accent, and Aomine snorts, hoping that this guy actually knows what he's saying.

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An hour and a half later, the guy's backside hits the pavement as Aomine twirls the ball on his finger and exhales, a bit spent yet still able to stand up without needing crutches or such. "Could've spent my time more wisely instead of playing another half-assed game."

The guy clenches his jaw and stands up, wobbling as he does so. He's still panting from exhaustion. "Shut up, let's do one more."

"Says the one who can't even breathe right now," Aomine drawls, passing the ball back to the guy. He winces as the redhead nearly misses. "Geez, this sucks. Turns out that the only one who can beat me is me, after all."

Aomine turns on his heel and yawns, but he halts his footsteps when the guy inhales sharply and says, "Are you fucking kidding me."

"I'm not," Aomine says, completely missing out on the concept of a rhetorical question. The guy shakes his head and laughs in disbelief.

"Say that again," the guy mutters, walking towards Aomine like he wasn't pissed off at him thirty seconds ago.

Wrinkling his nose, Aomine says, "Say what?"

The guy sighs in exasperation. "The one that you said. About you being unbeatable or something as distantly ridiculous as that."

"The only one who can beat me is me," Aomine answers easily, his eyes immediately sharpening to glare. "The hell are you talking about, you know it's true."

"Okay," the guy says, combing his damp hair with his fingers. "What's your name?"

"What's up with the interrogation?" Aomine asks bluntly. The guy cocks his head at him in curiosity and maybe just a hint of fascination, so clearly there's something wrong for him to be stared at this way. The guy probably hit himself in the head-so much for being stupid enough already.

The guy says, "Just answer the damn question."

"Fine, fine, you don't have to be such a bitch about it. It's Aomine Daiki."

When he does end up saying it, the guy's eyes widen and he has to take a step back to absorb the reality of it all. He sputters, "Holy shit."

"What the fuck is up with you?" Aomine frowns, a bit creeped out at the situation's resemblance to that of a starstruck fan's. Sure, he knows that he's worth swooning over, but this guy makes it seem like he has posters of Aomine sleeping on rooftops and eating burgers that it makes Aomine think, no way in hell is that normal.

The guy fans himself with his shirt and simply says, "Dude, I guess you weren't lying about your game, but I didn't know you were a total asshole, too."

The remark has Aomine busting a vein as he spits, "Who the fuck are you?"

He receives a sly grin in return, and he staggers back as he finally manages to connect the obvious, right-in-his-face dots-from the guy's hobby to his distinct accent to the general way that he speaks, because Aomine remembers that the weather is not the only thing that has him hyped. He's read somewhere for a dumb project that there are these things called pheromones, and he's probably under their influence now, too.

The guy continues to fan himself, his shirt sticking to his skin every now and then. He has to grin at the slim chance that has them standing a million miles to less than a foot away from each other.

"Kagami Taiga. Nice to finally meet you, Aomine."

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