Another of Those Days When Things Happen

Disclaimer: Don't own.

Author's Note: Happy birthday, Aomine...well, early birthday where I am but oh well close enough

Some questions need to be asked outright. They've been avoiding the subject for weeks now, so if Aomine wants a straight answer what better day to ask than his birthday? Maybe he's a stupid masochist for asking when he knows the answer could be something he doesn't want to hear, but he's never really been a guy who thinks things through.

"Do you like it better there?" Aomine asks. They're playing a half-assed game of HORSE, not strictly following the rules

"Hm?" Kagami asks. He makes a two-handed dunk. It's really not cute when he pretends to be oblivious (which isn't very often considering it's him, but often enough that it really pisses Aomine off).

"You know, the states. As opposed to here." He pauses. "Dumbass," he adds just for the effect as he takes his own basketball and dunks it cleanly.

Kagami shrugs. "I mean, I can't really compare them. The opponents are different…the people are different." He's blushing a bit, and the ball wobbles around the rim, but the jumper goes in.

"Well, yeah, so one's got to be better than the other," Aomine says. "Which one?" His jumper bangs harshly against the backboard; he's thrown it too hard and it bounces back to him.

"What I mean to say is, you know, I'm glad I came here so I could meet you," Kagami says, making a scoop shot fairly easily.

He lets the ball drop without going to pick it up, looking Aomine straight in the eyes. Aomine grins, steps closer, and kisses Kagami quickly and open-mouthed. "I'm glad you met me, too." He takes a scoop shot of his own, which goes in cleanly.

"Hey, wait a minute, aren't you supposed to say you're glad you met me?" Kagami passes Aomine one ball and picks the other one up from the asphalt and takes a shot from almost right under the net. It sails over the hoop but rolls back to Kagami's feet.

"Nope," Aomine says cheerfully. "After all, it's you who's had the pleasure of my company these past few years."

"Bastard," Kagami mutters with a roll of his eyes.

"So, are you going back?" Aomine makes a jump shot from the free-throw line.

"Well, you're coming with me," Kagami says. "Aren't you?" He makes the jumper as well.

Well, the NCAA really is the next step up to the NBA, which has always been his end goal (well, not really, he has to go there and be the best there, which of course won't be a problem, and there's no end goal because there will be no end), so, yeah. How did Kagami work that out in his head before he did?

"It's your shot," says Kagami.

Kagami had asked him about what kind of birthday cake he'd wanted, and honestly Aomine doesn't care because he's never known Kagami to cook something bad and all of those cake flavors taste pretty much the same to him, sweet and floury (which isn't a bad thing). Besides, Aomine wants to watch Kagami cook because it's so cute to see him totally engrossed in mixing the ingredients and getting the proportions right and figuring out where he left that one measuring cup, and how he always gets flour in his hair. Plus he can stare at Kagami's ass while he's turned away and not get yelled at or slapped, and take time to appreciate how fine it is.

"Still, it'd be better if you did that naked apron thing," Aomine says.

Kagami blows flour from his hand onto Aomine's face, and Aomine sneezes (still, seeing his lips pucker like that and that red flush on his cheeks makes the whole thing completely worth it).

"Taiga, Taiga, you're blushing…"

"Shut up. I don't own an apron."

Actually, it's probably better that he doesn't because Kagami likes dark-coloured clothing and it's pretty hot to see sugar and flour on his shirt and jeans, and even the tightest apron doesn't show off his body quite the way these clothes do.

He's making some type of chocolate pecan cake, and he leaves the pecans out on the table which is a very bad idea if he wants to make another cake anytime soon, because Aomine keeps on eating them. Kagami had roasted the pecans on the stovetop (Aomine had no idea that was even a thing until he did it) a few days ago and Aomine finds them addictive.

"Those things have a lot of calories, you know," Kagami says. Who does he think Aomine is, Kise?

"You've been hanging out with Aida way too much," says Aomine, chomping down on yet another pecan. "Don't worry; I'll save room for the cake."

"You damn well better; I'm making it for you."

"Because you love me, you really love me," Aomine says in a singsong voice, pulling Kagami into his lap and rubbing his arms over Kagami's stomach, feeling the way he sucks in his breath and his abs flinch away from the touch, even though the t-shirt.

"Yeah, I do, dumbass," Kagami says and kisses him on the mouth. "I love you; you love me, too; happy birthday; I need to finish mixing the batter for your cake."

"You're no fun anymore, Taiga," Aomine pouts, popping another pecan into his mouth.

Kagami makes a point of ignoring him as he stirs the batter in the mixing bowl some more, grabs another handful of pecans, and stirs again. Finally, he seems satisfied, and he pours the mixture into the pan and sticks it in the oven. Aomine gets up and starts to pull Kagami against him, but is hit by an elbow to the ribs.

"Ow. Is that any way to treat the birthday boy?"

"I'm trying to do the dishes. Normally, I'd tell you to do them, but seeing as it's your birthday…"

When Aomine does the dishes, it's quick and efficient and they always get clean enough (most of the time he refuses, though) but Kagami takes for-fucking-ever because he has to get everything sparkling clean like in some kind of soap commercial or something. (Seriously, what the actual fuck?) "Here, I'll help," Aomine says, and he shoves a cloth into Kagami's hands and starts to scrub the mixing bowl.

He's just finishing the last fork when he starts to scowl. "You planned that, didn't you?

"Hm?" Kagami says, playing oblivious yet again.

"Seriously, you're not cute at all," Aomine grumbles, handing him the fork and then kissing him senseless before he's finished drying it. "Why'd I have to get stuck with an ugly bastard like you? I could have had Mai-chan."

Kagami snorts. "Get real. Like she'd ever date a basketball idiot like you."

"Well, you're a basketball idiot, too," Aomine says, knocking him on his forehead before skimming the hand down his neck and under his shirt and down his torso. Kagami's face contorts and he sighs (he actually looks really hot like this, way hotter than Mai-chan, although Aomine's not going to say that right now because he wants to see how hot and bothered he can get Kagami, how to get him to shut up until all the noise he's making consists of those sighs (and some moans, too. Moans are good)).

"Yeah, but I don't want—" He spazzes as Aomine tweaks his nipple. "I don't want Mai-chan; I want you, Daiki."

Oh, fuck, he's so unfair. He knows exactly what he's doing, which is way worse than when he was still naïve and had no idea how much he was turning Aomine on because it comes with an equally unfair smile. And the way he says Aomine's name and leaves his lips parted slightly is completely overwhelming.

"You're horrible," Aomine says, and then kisses him, hands travelling down inside Kagami's pants to fondle his ass, feeling Kagami get hard against his thigh as he pushes him against the kitchen table. "Hey, how much time do we have before the cake's done?"

Kagami's breathing hard, waiting a few seconds before answering. "Half an hour."

That's plenty of time. He continues groping Kagami's ass, letting Kagami get comfortable with the feeling and start to feel him up, too. As much as he loves dominating, Kagami's hands are wonderful, good for cooking and basketball and especially for pleasure (Midorima says they'd be good piano hands, but that Kagami would probably suck at music anyway. Aomine agrees that Kagami shouldn't try playing the piano, if only because that would mean less time Kagami's hands could spend on his body). Pretty soon, Aomine's sighing and moaning, too; their voices harmonize perfectly, ringing off the walls and cabinets and the hood over the stove. Kagami's tongue is aggressive, tastes of pecans (he ate some too, sneaky bastard).

But bless him; he didn't wear a belt today. The button and zipper on his jeans are easy enough to undo without breaking the rhythm of their bodies moving against one another, and soon Aomine's rubbing Kagami's pulsing cock. Kagami's breathing gets even more haggard; he pushes up against Aomine, almost sobbing with want. Damn. Aomine's always in the mood and Kagami's always calling him a pervert, but when Kagami's turned on he becomes nothing but a walking set of hormones who needs to get off right fucking now.

And, yeah, okay, that part will happen. But Kagami's so fucking impatient. On the other hand, Aomine doesn't really want to draw it out. That really turns into boredom fast. He shouldn't even be thinking about that shit right now. He flips Kagami so he's leaning over the table and starts fingering him, scanning the table for the lube. Kagami whines and sort of humps the table (he's so shameless, but even that turns Aomine on further) so Aomine inserts two more fingers. Kagami gasps, and Aomine picks up the lube, squeezes some onto his palm, pulls down his shorts (good thing he decided to go commando today) and spreads it on his cock. It momentarily distracts him because he's been blocking out how much he's been wanting to be touched, and he starts to jerk himself off but then Kagami clenches around his fingers and he's back in the present.

He removes his fingers swiftly and simultaneously, and then plunges his cock in. He thrusts into Kagami, again and again and again, slowing down and speeding up and, okay, he's dragging it out a bit. He can sense Kagami's about to say something again, so he starts going harder, faster, more urgently, stops holding back. Kagami comes first, slumping across the table , and the sight of his shirt riding up and exposing those goddamn sexy back muscles, and his sweet round ass and the way it's still clenched around Aomine is enough to finally get him to come, too.

He leans over Kagami, face pressed against Kagami's soft neck. He smells of sweat and chocolate. Kagami turns his head.

"Thanks for being born," he whispers.