Ship: Kasamatsu/Hyuuga Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED Word Count: 409
***
Hyuuga feels a little bit weird when Kasamatsu doesn’t show up at the street court. It’s not like he’d broken a promise, it’s just that both of them have been coming pretty regularly; maybe it’s not a written or spoken deal but it feels like one of those unwritten rules of sport, a courtesy. It hurts, like Hyuuga had thought he was a little bit more important to Kasamatsu than Kasamatsu is to him. It’s a burn, a sting, a bad shave. It’s a little bit empty, like a water bottle buried deep in his bag and he pulls it out to find nothing inside, just taking up space. (Yeah, okay, if he wasn’t coming he wouldn’t have a way of telling Kasamatsu; he doesn’t have his number and he’s not asking Kuroko to ask Kise for it—that would just be too much, too soon. Too soon for what, Hyuuga doesn’t know, but for whatever.)
That kind of feeling keeps showing up, even when Kasamatsu comes back, all of a sudden, making a drive against him, the way he pops up defensively, the look on his face when they’re scoping out opponents for a two-on-two, tanned skin of his stomach (where’s he been going around shirtless?) when he lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat off, the way his eyes follow Hyuuga’s to that space on him, like he knows something Hyuuga doesn’t, like the weird feeling is visible, just not to Hyuuga. (Maybe Kasamatsu feels it, too; maybe he wants to keep showing up.)
“Hey,” Kasamatsu says.
The ball sits between them, slightly deflated, too much to play with anymore.
“Yeah?” says Hyuuga.
“Do you like me?” says Kasamatsu.
“Yeah,” says Hyuuga. “Why would I play with you if I didn’t?”
“No,” says Kasamatsu, his cheeks coloring a little bit redder. “Do you like me, like want to go out with me?”
“What? No, I,” says Hyuuga, and then he shuts his mouth.
He doesn’t; the sentence should be easy to complete (“I like girls; I like Riko” except he doesn’t like Riko, okay? And—he does like girls; he’s just). Kasamatsu looks like he’s waiting, and then after a few seconds like he’s not anymore. He holds out his hand and grabs Hyuuga’s; it’s not like a girls, small but hard and rough, nails stubby and split against his skin.
“Idiot,” says Kasamatsu.
He doesn’t let go, and Hyuuga doesn’t take his hand back.
FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Word Count: 409
***
Hyuuga feels a little bit weird when Kasamatsu doesn’t show up at the street court. It’s not like he’d broken a promise, it’s just that both of them have been coming pretty regularly; maybe it’s not a written or spoken deal but it feels like one of those unwritten rules of sport, a courtesy. It hurts, like Hyuuga had thought he was a little bit more important to Kasamatsu than Kasamatsu is to him. It’s a burn, a sting, a bad shave. It’s a little bit empty, like a water bottle buried deep in his bag and he pulls it out to find nothing inside, just taking up space. (Yeah, okay, if he wasn’t coming he wouldn’t have a way of telling Kasamatsu; he doesn’t have his number and he’s not asking Kuroko to ask Kise for it—that would just be too much, too soon. Too soon for what, Hyuuga doesn’t know, but for whatever.)
That kind of feeling keeps showing up, even when Kasamatsu comes back, all of a sudden, making a drive against him, the way he pops up defensively, the look on his face when they’re scoping out opponents for a two-on-two, tanned skin of his stomach (where’s he been going around shirtless?) when he lifts his shirt to wipe the sweat off, the way his eyes follow Hyuuga’s to that space on him, like he knows something Hyuuga doesn’t, like the weird feeling is visible, just not to Hyuuga. (Maybe Kasamatsu feels it, too; maybe he wants to keep showing up.)
“Hey,” Kasamatsu says.
The ball sits between them, slightly deflated, too much to play with anymore.
“Yeah?” says Hyuuga.
“Do you like me?” says Kasamatsu.
“Yeah,” says Hyuuga. “Why would I play with you if I didn’t?”
“No,” says Kasamatsu, his cheeks coloring a little bit redder. “Do you like me, like want to go out with me?”
“What? No, I,” says Hyuuga, and then he shuts his mouth.
He doesn’t; the sentence should be easy to complete (“I like girls; I like Riko” except he doesn’t like Riko, okay? And—he does like girls; he’s just). Kasamatsu looks like he’s waiting, and then after a few seconds like he’s not anymore. He holds out his hand and grabs Hyuuga’s; it’s not like a girls, small but hard and rough, nails stubby and split against his skin.
“Idiot,” says Kasamatsu.
He doesn’t let go, and Hyuuga doesn’t take his hand back.