((A.N.: Ladies and gents, I present to you, AoKi on a whim. Also, slight canon reference.))

Closing the door of his apartment behind him, Takao couldn't help suddenly feeling the air in the house seemed foreign. It almost felt as it had the day he moved in; unfamiliar, alien, strange. Breathing deeply to calm himself, he stepped to the sofa by the window, and, after staring blankly at it for awhile, settled himself on the floor next to it.

The imagery of Midorima and Kise there that night, conjured up by his sleep, was still pristine in his mind.

After revealing to Kise how he'd discovered the previous tenant's identity, there was the same tender look of resolve the blond had shown when Takao first mentioned Midorima's name. With gradual prompting, Takao had related everything that had happened; everything from his sister and her fiancé, to the failures and successes in their band, to everything that had happened with Midorima. All recalled in painful detail, relayed in a fashion that was disturbingly similar to how 'Ryou' had documented his own recent past.

The words flowed forth, unhindered, unrestrained. To Takao it felt as if he were paying back Kise's favour, granting the blond free range to his own deepest secrets. As he spoke, he began understanding, bit by bit, why Kise would've risked putting himself to paper. Reliving the moments he'd shoved away for the past few weeks felt cathartically refreshing.

Only after Takao had finished, did Kise fold his arms under his chin, finally speaking after hours of silence.

He'd swept a wisp of hair behind his ear, leaning on that same hand in one smooth motion, eyes lidded as he picked at the edge of a napkin. "How is he."

The multitude of meanings to Kise's innocent question had only occurred slowly to Takao while he was walking home. The true weight of those simple words leaned fully on him once he'd settled back down in the apartment; a space that didn't feel quite like home as much as it once had.

Though, for some reason, he slept sounder that night than he'd done in awhile.

Kise arrived home right around midnight, just as he'd promised; the lights were still shining in wait, just as Aomine had promised. Although it sounded terribly nonchalant, there was a greeting welcoming him home, Kise knowingly pretending not to notice the relief soothing Aomine's tense features when he stepped into the living room. "How was the shoot today? You get to meet that guy again?" A slightly groggy voice sounded out as Kise made his way to the sofa, sitting on the couch arm closest to where his boyfriend sat flipping through an outdated sports magazine.

"Yep. We had dinner together after, he's really cool~" Kise chuckled, taking off his jacket and draping it carefully over the sofa backrest.

Aomine smirked, dragging the blond down for a quick kiss, relishing in the squeak of surprise. "Well, at least you didn't get flagged as a stalker. Don't ever tell him about the band T-shirt."

"I told you already, I got that cause it really did look nice. And Takaocchi wouldn't do that to me..." His voice trailed off midway, perhaps owing either to the alcohol in his system, or feeling too relaxed around Aomine to bother keeping his guard up. The tanned man raised a brow, reaching for his boyfriend's hand and gingerly tangling it in his own.

"Something happen?"

There was a momentary lag of silence, Kise searching his mind for the right words, or perhaps trying to discard his concern for the consequences. Allowing himself to flop down into Aomine's lap from the couch arm, he let out a sigh, before drawing in a deep breath.

"He found them." Kise related calmly, as if half expecting it to go over the other man's head.

"... It's almost funny how your luck is this bad."

"Shut up Aominecchi."

Chuckling, and coaxing Kise into a more comfortable position on his lap, Aomine leaned on a hand with a click of his tongue. "Did he know it was you?"

Kise closed his eyes, the tiniest of smiles lingering on his lips. He hadn't the faintest why, but it felt as if that smile was the single most appropriate reaction he could've had to the mess they'd been tripped back into. "He found out. Somehow."

"Somehow." Among Aomine's flaws, the inability to prevent his emotions from taking over his voice stood prominent. "Unless someone who knew you from back then told him, he couldn't have known."

Kise laughed at this. "But Aominecchi… Someone did."

The taller man lifted his head again after leaning down for a quick kiss. "Stop talking in riddles, I just used up my telepathy. Who was it? Akashi? Tetsu?"

"Aominecchi, he lives there now. Where I used to."

"... Oh."

Well, there really was only one person who stayed near enough to be a suspect. Though, for the life of him Aomine couldn't figure out why Midorima would go out of his way to get involved. He never was much of a busybody, always minding his own business. Unless, of course, his business required the efforts of others, like the basketball team back in Teikou. Good times, the tanned man recalled with a smirk; it wasn't every day you got netted, literally, by a horoscope freak.

Kise stayed where he was, listening to the silence diffusing between them. He hadn't been entirely honest with his boyfriend about everything that had happened between him and their former teammate, and had all along been thankful Aomine wasn't much one for details.

"That night, when Midorimacchi got smashed..."

"I know."

Kise stopped, surprised for a moment as he turned to scan his boyfriend's features for any signs of betrayal; he saw none. Realizing this wasn't a farce, Kise closed his eyes, snuggling closer against his boyfriend. "... Did you now."

Aomine picked at stiff strands of spray-fixed hair. "You behaved different for a good few days, anyone would've noticed."

Kise winced; apparently his model career hadn't quite sunk in enough just yet. "Whoops."

When the silence turned unbearable, Aomine heaved himself up off the couch, taking Kise's hand in his. "C'mon, I'll wash your hair for you."

As if the previous solemn exchange hadn't happened, Kise found a grin that could've been copied straight off the other man's Highschool basketball days. "Ooh Aominecchi's thinking nasty thoughts."

"Yeah. Like you falling asleep and drowning in the bathtub."

Midorima was honestly surprised to receive a text from Kise out of the blue. It was clearly him, the sender recognizable by a glance even though his number had been changed by request of his agency. Though, for some reason that seemed to deliberately elude him, he couldn't help feeling a tight knot of something sinking heavily into the bottom of his chest. When he'd realized he was disappointed, it was a good hour or so later of tickling ivory.

The doctor stood from his instrument, reading the message while reaching for his tape and bandaging his fingers.

[Midorimacchi, you wanna come see one of my photoshoots? It'll be fun I promise!]

He raised an eyebrow, his response quick and to the point as his behaviour usually was.

[What could you want me there for?]

Ever since that inebriated night, he hadn't heard from Kise much. There were still various meetups with their middle school teammates, during which both of them had had the sense to behave normally. But, Kise had never approached him directly like this. Suddenly seized by curiosity, the doctor padded back into his study, reaching gingerly for the photo frame on his desk just as the reply came.

With a chuckle, he remembered that Kise was as liable as clockwork to reply his texts immediately.

[Cause! There's someone I want you to meet, and I have a feeling they're dying to meet you too. C'mon Midorimacchi~ You need to cut loose once in awhile.]

An eyebrow raised, and not at all convinced, Midorima reached for his calendar. Well, Kise did know Takao, it was more than likely that the social butterfly was up to something.

[When?]

Midorima managed to enter the studios even after Kise had told the doctor to contact him, and be guided in. He wasn't sure what to think of the access he'd been unquestioningly granted, or the second looks he noticed people taking, eventually chaulking everything up to his height. Walking around the area, it didn't take long before he spotted a vaguely familiar face, but couldn't quite remember where or how he'd seen the dark beauty before.

Like the heating inside the building, it hit him; that live performance Takao had given him tickets to. He'd been the person accompanying Takao out of the backstage area, disappearing into the alleys after leaving behind advice Midorima couldn't understand.

Immediately Midorima sniffed, confirming his suspicions of his former teammate's little ploy. He heaved a sigh of relent just as Kise bounded out from behind a closed door.

"Ahhh Midorimacchi there you are! Sorry sorry, we were in the middle of a shoot so-"

Midorima briefly noted the clothes, makeup and hairdo, wondering if Takao had been done up in a similar fashion; for the life of him he couldn't imagine it. "Kise, what is the meaning of this?"

Kise seemed taken aback, unsure of what the doctor meant; alternatively, unsure how Midorima had figured out his coy little secret. Eventually the blond settled for a blank look and stuck-out tongue. "Eheh. Meaning of what?"

Unfortunately, Midorima had managed to catch the hesitant pause. Brows deeply furrowed in what could've been a pout, Midorima crossed his arms, scrutinizing the shorter man with a questioning glare. Kise coiled back, trying to soothe his friend. "Maa maa, Midorimacchi… If you weren't curious about him at all, you wouldn't have gone nearly as far as you did for him, right?"

Thankfully for them both, multitudes of awkwardness remained drifting under the surface, undisturbed. Midorima shifted his gaze to a side, Kise shuffling his foot awaiting judgement.

"How is he?"

With a feline grin, so aptly complimenting his cat-eyes, Kise urged Midorima into the studio. "He's just about to get a whole lot better."

Landing a finger over his lips, he deposited the tall doctor in a corner behind the elaborate lighting setup. Beyond the wall of crew and camera equipment, Midorima picked out the familiar figure of Takao, standing on a white backdrop. His dark clothing contrasted to Kise's softer, more angelic shades, various staff fussing over the both of them.

He couldn't quite help a slight chortle at those phone directories Takao was standing on.

With time, and the realization everyone was far too busy to bounce him out, Midorima's tense shoulders lowered, his breathing evening out as he paid a bit more attention to the subjects of what, to him, seemed disproportionate amounts of fuss. The Takao that Midorima saw then, laughing and joking with both Kise and staff, reminded him of the man who had invited him into his apartment when they'd first met, the carefree yet struggling artist who would trust essentially a stranger with his electric guitar. At that moment it all seemed so long ago; with so much else filling his mind, he hadn't been quite sure how to look at Takao anymore.

It felt distinctly selfish, Midorima reflected solemnly. At times like this, when Takao was so intensely focused on people and things other than himself, he began feeling how much he'd come to treasure the attention.

From the well-illuminated set, Kise gave his ex-teammate a wink, suddenly pulling Takao close as the cameras snapped furiously. The doctor's eyes widened, his cheeks flushing deep red under the cover of darkness. Eventually, he gave a dissatisfied harrumph, turning away with a hand covering his lips. He never was known for stellar eyesight, but the resulting smirk on Kise's face didn't go unnoticed.

Dressing down and getting out of his makeup was becoming a familiar task for Takao, the man demurely allowing various staff to fuss over him, all the while joking over nothing in particular with Kise. Ever since Himuro had left the building, Takao's phone had stayed in his pocket, largely ignored, what with the barrages of texts from Himuro, Kasamatsu and other band mates hounding him over a short gig and dinner that night. Kise, as usual, kept a hawk's eye on his own phone, replying messages almost as soon as they came with a blissful smile.

"Aomine?" Takao peered over to Kise pouting, clutching his phone to his chest. With a chuckle, he settled back into his seat, marking the blond guilty as charged.

"Speak for yourself Takaocchi, should you really be ignoring your phone like that?"

The vocalist merely raised an eyebrow, digging his phone from his pocket. "It's all just a bunch of last minute updates and stuff from the guys anyway, nothing impor-"

Kise smiled knowingly at the pause, coiling back with a squeak when Takao turned to him with a magnificent blush, his face screaming vengeance.

"What did you do, dammit."

It took Kise awhile to recover from the laughing fits Takao's reaction had thrown him into. Once he'd stopped shaking for long enough to sit back up and wipe his tears, his eyes softened as he reached gingerly for his friend's shoulder. "I just did what I thought was best for you both."

It took awhile, but the tension bled from Takao's shoulders as he surrendered himself to the backrest and settled back into his seat. Though, some part of him still wanted dearly to chuck his phone at the wall and be over with everything.

"How do I even-"

"He was looking at you Takaocchi, all along. Though, he himself probably didn't know it." Kise smiled, eyes straying to the phone clutched in Takao's hand. "So… You gonna reply to that or what?"

Takao, still boneless in his seat, brought his phone back up to eye level. His fingers snagged on hair spray before he realized he'd reached up to comb through his hair on habit.

With a sigh, he pulled up the message. "... Can't keep my doctor waiting can I."

((Thanks to everyone for putting up with all the delays and breaks in between, and a big Happy Birthday shout-out to my favorite HSK, Takao! All things considered it's rather pointless dedicating a story about him, to him though wwwww.))