Imayoshi Shouichi is minding his own business, midway through changing out of his sweaty uniform, fabric still sliding down his arms, when he feels someone grab his ass. He can almost hear the room freeze. He bites down a flinch and slowly turns his head towards the perpetrator.
It's Aomine and really, he understands why everyone had gone silent... Their tall teammate has only his basketball shorts on and it really isn’t hiding his rather formidable interest. Imayoshi swallows and really hates his life at that moment.
‘Aomine, why is your hand where it is?’ he drawls slowly, pleasantly, dangerously. Maybe the ace has finally cracked. Poorly concealed sniggers fill the small change room. Imayoshi doesn’t understand why they aren’t freaking the hell out because he did not see this coming from a mile away. He could swear he saw Aomine and Sakurai together in a darkened corner of the school so he logically assumed… and those porno magazines… well, it’s no surprise Aomine is a deviant, he supposes.
Aomine’s eyes narrow, predator instincts kicked up after the adrenaline-pumping game against Seirin. He’s practically humming with energy and anticipation and really, that never bodes well for others. He presses himself in closer to the slight captain’s back, bare chest pressing against Imayoshi’s sweat-chilled skin. ‘Hey, Imayoshi-san, let’s have sex,’ Aomine purrs into Imayoshi’s ear.
Choking sounds come from behind them – Imayoshi picks out everyone except Susa, interestingly enough – and Imayoshi is vindictively pleased that somehow his team didn’t anticipate that… he hates not knowing. But then, with a sharp bang, Aomine has hoisted up the captain by the waist, flipping him around and slamming him with his back to the cool metal of the closed locker beside Imayoshi’s open one. Imayoshi’s thighs tighten reflexively but he doesn’t degrade himself to wrapping himself around the freaking horny bastard who had huge hands supporting him. If squeezing his ass constitutes as support. For god’s sake.
Imayoshi sighs, the weight of the world upon him. With lack of anywhere else to put them and not really wanting to look like a floppy plaything (that might excite the crazy bastard even more, who knew), he rests both of his arms on Aomine’s shoulders. ‘I’m not going to have sex with you, you idiot. Go screw Sakurai or Kuroko instead.’ He ignores Sakurai’s incredulous, ‘EEEEH?! GROSS! Uh, GOMENASAI!’ and continues, ‘Actually, doing Kagami would be more amusing. He might even get the motivation to actually be a challenge next time,’ he laughs, condescension dripping from every word. That redhead had potential and would prove good competition next time. He pats Aomine’s head with his left hand. ‘Let me go. Who said you could be so rude to your senpai? I need to get changed, Aomine.’
There was a pause wherein Imayoshi’s eyes narrow because the rest of the team is waiting for something and really, he wants to know what the fuck is going on. Wakamatsu breaks the quiet, whispering loudly and too goddamn obviously to Sakurai, ‘Wow, captain really is oblivious.’
Imayoshi’s vicious, non-smiling sort-of-glare directs itself at the blond and Wakamatsu flushes ruddy red. A light increase in the pressure of his back against the lockers diverts his attention back to Aomine, who is staring at him with a still-lustful but now perplexed look. Imayoshi huffs out a breath, ‘We’ve got ten minutes until the bus lea- mmmph!’
Aomine’s mouth fits over his. Imayoshi’s mind is reeling and his eyes widen in shock. A wet tongue presses firmly against his lax lips, prying them open and snaking into Imayoshi’s mouth. Both their eyes are open and really, it’s a pretty crappy kiss aside from the fact that it feels pretty good, because honestly, who would want 7 other guys in the immediate proximity staring at him while he gets molested by their team ace, also a dude. Imayoshi also finds it strange being at Aomine’s height and taller.
Aomine is unrelenting, steel determination taking over the perplexed expression and Imayoshi hates the fact that his legs automatically slot around a trim waist and the hand that’s already raised from patting Aomine’s head slides down again to thread through mildly sweaty blue hair. He doesn’t realize when his eyes really close, but as soon as his slowed brain realizes, he jerks and grey eyes fly open in horror. He freezes because there’s no way he get out from Aomine’s firm grip without starting a fistfight and that’s all he needs right now.
‘Oi…’ he says, grimacing. ‘What was that for? Seriously, this stopped being funny a long time ago.’
Aomine looks to the heavens in exasperation, looking as if he’s asking for infinite patience. But he doesn’t get to say a word because Momoi squeaks from the open door (when did that open, Imayoshi wonders).
All heads (except Aomine’s) turn to stare at the pink-haired girl then, because seriously, that girl doesn’t seem to realize the blood dripping from her nose.
‘Uh, you’re bleeding,’ Imayoshi points out.
Momoi twitches with surprise and her mouth goes in an O shape even as she reaches for a tissue to stem the flow. She gives the captain a disapproving look he kind of doesn’t understand since he’s the one pinned shirtless to a locker by another shirtless, much larger dude who seems intent on shoving various appendages into his body. But then, she says with a put-upon sigh, ‘Aho-mine is an idiot and this is his way of telling you he – uh, yeah,’ she amends at Aomine’s glare. She continues anyway, ‘Clubbing you over the head and dragging you back to his cave, and all.’
Aomine’s cheeks flush very mildly when Imayoshi turns his head back to stare down at him in incredulity. There is silence.
‘… You can’t be serious,’ he denies.
Because no, just no.
Aomine just shrugs one shoulder, shifting Imayoshi completely in the process. Blue eyes pin his, though, and he has to give Aomine props for having the balls to approach him at all. But then again, deviant.
Imayoshi says, ‘I still think screwing Kagami would be better.’
Aomine drops him.
‘Hey, that hurt,’ he grumbles as he picks himself up from a surprised stagger. Aomine has turned away by the time he rights himself, back facing him and steadily picking up his belongings and shoving them into his sports bag.
Imayoshi’s teammates stare at their captain collectively. Him! As if he’s the bad guy in this bizarre situation! He swivels his gaze to the doorway and Momoi looks at him blankly and damn, that’s actually kind of creepy. So, he sighs and faces Aomine’s tense back once more. He trails his eyes along the toned body on display, broad shoulders, smooth shifting muscles with every movement, nice ass, strong calves and those hands are nice too, he supposes. Attitude is somewhat overboard but Imayoshi can work with that if he has actual influence over the Touou ace. But… he kind of already did. Aomine listened to him, for the most part… returned his calls fairly often, even if it was to tell him he was skipping practice… wow he is pretty oblivious, huh.
Imayoshi’s lips curl up in a smile. Aomine turns at that moment, unzipped Touou jacket thrown on over his upper body, basketball shorts still on in his haste to apparently get the hell away from there and have a good sulk or whatever Aomine usually did by himself. Imayoshi steps forward, planting himself directly in front of the taller male. Aomine doesn’t look at him, ready to sidestep him, but Imayoshi is faster.
A pale hand lands on Aomine’s chest near his throat, drawing angry blue eyes to him. Imayoshi’s insides curl at that, because Aomine clearly knew his own limits and he was avoiding a fight that he’d win through sheer physical prowess. …Who knew, maybe this could actually work.
Imayoshi’s smile drops, signaling his seriousness. ‘Kouhais should ask their senpais nicely, you know,’ he says, letting his hand slide boldly down Aomine’s sternum until fingertips just barely touch tanned skin, letting his message be loud and clear, letting Aomine fill in the unsaid.
The moment he understood, Imayoshi sees the click happen. ‘Ok,’ Aomine says, lips curling upwards.
Aomine head tips down slightly and this time Imayoshi leans in, (embarrassingly) rising on the balls of his feet a little to reach Aomine’s height, letting himself be pulled closer when warm hands landed on his hips, basketball shorts hanging onto his hipbones when thumbs massaged the hollows there. Hmm, yeah this isn’t completely horrible.
‘AHEM!’ Wakamatsu coughs loudly. ‘Wakamatsu!’ Momoi screeches, blood dripping form her nose once more, ‘Don’t interrupt!’
Imayoshi breaks away for air, tipping his head back and around, unknowingly exposing his pale throat to Aomine’s hungry gaze. ‘Oi,’ he says smoothly, eyes smiling, boding unpleasantness. Sakurai steps back. ‘You all knew.’ It’s not a question.
He looks at them, twitching smiles on their faces. ‘I hate you all,’ Imayoshi says. Susa has the gall to smirk. Imayoshi glares and says, ‘That doesn't exclude you, bast – OUCH!’
Focusing back on Aomine, he finds that he’s had teeth sunk into his throat, light red indentations in the exact outline of Aomine’s teeth. Momoi giggles. Imayoshi glares and Aomine’s gaze flickers towards Susa for the briefest split-second and the captain gives a long suffering sigh, ‘Looks like we have to work on a few things.’
‘Eh?’ Aomine questions.
Imayoshi swipes at him, saying, ‘For now, get off me so I can get changed. Bus leaves in 2 minutes.’ Directing his voice at all in the room, he smirks, ‘You’re not fully dressed by then, you walk.’
As his team suddenly bursts into a scramble of noise, action and curses (‘He’s kidding, right? Touou is 40minutes drive!’ ‘Wouldn’t chance it. Less talk, more dressing!’ ‘Hey, do you have any money for the train?!’ ‘No, I didn’t bring any, damn it!’ ‘You idiot!’ ‘Neither did you, idiot!’), Imayoshi chuckles lightly.
He twists and Aomine lets him go.
Imayoshi reaches for a clean shirt and as an afterthought, turns back around. Aomine is standing there, eyes raking down the captain’s body and his thoughts aren’t that complicated to read. Imayoshi sees a softness in blue eyes though, and thinks, better it him than someone on another team he supposes. He also welcomes the shiver of lust that wriggles up his spine. ‘No exceptions, Aomine,’ he says.
Aomine snaps to attention, ‘You’re joking.’
Imayoshi hums indifferently, turning away again and moving swiftly.
Aomine swears loudly and profusely behind him.
When they’re all getting onto the bus, Aomine’s hand lands on his lower back, a firm but gentle weight there behind him and Imayoshi thinks he could get used to it far too easily. (Seirin’s incredulous, wide eyes staring at them from their group to Imayoshi’s right just sweetens the deal).