23. Our muses build a fort
Kise didn’t have to look at Aomine to knowing the menacing whisper of his name brought with it the promise of a threat. He ducked to avoid the snowball he knew was aimed at the back of his glistening blonde head. He knew he shouldn’t laugh. His laughter only encouraged the onslaught, but how could he help himself?
"Come on, Aominecchi! You can do better than that!"
The park where he so often challenged the ace to game after game of basketball was covered in thick, white mounds of snow. The kind that sticks. The kind that was perfect for making snow forts and snowmen and having snowball fights.
He had only just started to pile the snow into brick shaped lumps when the first snowball caught him in the center of his back. He whirled around to find that signature smirk, the one that always made him cave and give in to the challenge. He took one look at his unfinished fort and scooped a handful of snow off the top. It only took one crunch of his fingers to shape it into a crude looking ball before it sailed across the park and missed that blue head by a few inches.
Now the park was a flurry of flying balls of snow and ice. Yes, ice. Aomine had taken to packing thick shards into the snowballs to increase the damage Kise received. Not that Kise was playing fair. Pebbles were packed into his own snowballs and, by the time the sky started darkening, he was sore, and bruised, but there was a smile on his face even as he fought to catch his breath in the chilled air.
By now, he was tiring of the snowball fight. He wanted to return to his fort. He held another round of ammo in his hand as he darted toward the unfinished fortress. He had only taken a single step when Aomine, observant as ever, took off toward the snow mounds.
Can’t hide if there’s no shelter to hide behind.
One big lunge took down the primary foundation for the fort and left the blonde stunned. Kise’s burning cheeks colored an even darker red as he stomped toward Aomine. He flung the snowball, full force, at the side of his head.
"I wanted to finish that!"
Aomine took in the sight of the ruined snow around him and shrugged.
"You knew I wanted to build a fort.” Kise stomped his foot and crossed his arms; all the signs of a fit waiting to be thrown.
"There’s plenty of snow to go around."
"But that was my snow.”
Aomine snorted. “There is no such thing as your snow, baka.”
Kise turned his face away and carefully stepped over to the opposite end of his half-ruined fort. He started packing the snow in silence, re-building what Aomine had leveled. Aomine pushed himself out of the crumbled snow wall and stood, frowning at the model and his self-imposed silence.
"You’re going to ignore me now?"
Kise patted the snow a little harder.
"Are you fucking serious?" Here they go again.
Aomine could see that the silence was already taking its toll on Kise. The blonde was biting his lip and keeping his eyes firmly affixed on the task at hand. He knew that if he looked in Aomine’s direction, he would open his mouth and the never ending flow of complaints on his tongue would seep out, unbidden.
The frustrated sigh got Kise’s attention and he watched as Aomine threw his head back and ran his gloved fingers through cold, damp hair. Kise was annoyingly good at getting on his nerves in a matter of seconds. It was not like he had destroyed the entire fort. A small portion of the wall was easily replaced. Yet Kise wanted to act like Aomine was a wrecking ball that destroyed his home.
He was about to turn and stomp away from the blonde, to leave him to his own silence and the fort he was so obsessed with, when he heard a gasp of pain come from those pink lips. He cocked his head to the side and extended a hand.
"Let me see."
Kise shook his head and cradled a hand against his chest.
"Let me see, dammit."
The yellow gloves that Kise had bragged about–the designer ones that would have cost Aomine an arm and a leg–had torn down the palm of the right hand. The skin was so red, it looked as though the flesh were burnt.
He crouched beside the blonde and Kise spared him a glance. Without hesitation, Aomine bit the forefinger of his glove, jerking his head back to remove it from his hand. He pulled Kise’s nearly frostbitten palm toward him. Though Kise struggled, his grip was strong and he was able to remove the torn fabric from the blonde’s hand and replace it with his own.
"What is your agency going to think of that?"
He knew the damage was probably his own fault. Kise had caught more than a few of his destructive snowballs. It had to be the fault of the ice he’d packed in. Not that his coat hadn’t taken damage from those pebbles.
"But Aominecchi, your hand…"
Golden eyes widened when he saw Aomine start to pack snow onto the ruined side of the wall with his still gloved hand.
"Shut it, Ryouta."
Kise turned his face to make sure Aomine didn’t see the smile. He was supposed to be mad, after all.
Kise is well loved.
aokise is what keeps me going