Ship: Aomine/Kise Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED Original Work:link by kiyala Word Count: 419
***
It comes in the rhythm of a sea shanty, the love me love me in Ryouta’s body, calling out to him. At first Daiki thinks very little of it, Ryouta curling around him after sex and then flopping over just as quickly, as if he doesn’t know what to do when it’s obvious he’s the one with more experience and more of an idea of how to do things. It’s the way Ryouta has always begged for attention and love and care and always gotten it, been the light so blinding every insect flocks to it, the only light that illuminates for better or for worse. He is beautiful and he is the one who is adored and to whom everything is given. Why should this be any different than basketball, than the way he walks down the street and demands the attention of passers-by?
So Daiki gives him the attention, the love and care that Ryouta wants until he realizes that that’s not what Ryouta wants, that’s not what he means. He’s not doing this for fun, just to ignore the way they’d never make it work as an honest thing, making each other toast in the morning when they’re both too cheap to buy a toaster and they both burn it every time anyway. That’s what Ryouta wants; Ryouta wants everything, like some kind of being who can never be sated, like something that will sink its teeth in and bite through the bone if you give him the chance.
It’s hard to say, making vague gestures toward the subject, during sex of all times—but Ryouta forgives him in the moment, sort of. And he rolls of quick, without the lapse this time, when they’re done, cleaning the both of them off methodically, as if he’s not needy the way he most definitely is. Like he’s trying to hide something in plain sight. That’s ballsy, but, well, Ryouta’s nothing if not that, Daiki supposes. (His words, about wanting only what’s here, that he could go somewhere else if he wanted what Daiki didn’t, what Daiki couldn’t give—are they both settling for less with each other, even though they want more, even though each other is the peak of that? It’s a little bit of a paradox, but it makes more sense than any of the rest of this shit.) And Daiki lets him, rolling over close enough to feel the heat of Ryouta’s body as he dozes off but not close enough to touch.
FILL: TEAM HIMURO TATSUYA/NIJIMURA SHUUZOU, T
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Other Tags: TAGS OMITTED
Original Work: link by
Word Count: 419
***
It comes in the rhythm of a sea shanty, the love me love me in Ryouta’s body, calling out to him. At first Daiki thinks very little of it, Ryouta curling around him after sex and then flopping over just as quickly, as if he doesn’t know what to do when it’s obvious he’s the one with more experience and more of an idea of how to do things. It’s the way Ryouta has always begged for attention and love and care and always gotten it, been the light so blinding every insect flocks to it, the only light that illuminates for better or for worse. He is beautiful and he is the one who is adored and to whom everything is given. Why should this be any different than basketball, than the way he walks down the street and demands the attention of passers-by?
So Daiki gives him the attention, the love and care that Ryouta wants until he realizes that that’s not what Ryouta wants, that’s not what he means. He’s not doing this for fun, just to ignore the way they’d never make it work as an honest thing, making each other toast in the morning when they’re both too cheap to buy a toaster and they both burn it every time anyway. That’s what Ryouta wants; Ryouta wants everything, like some kind of being who can never be sated, like something that will sink its teeth in and bite through the bone if you give him the chance.
It’s hard to say, making vague gestures toward the subject, during sex of all times—but Ryouta forgives him in the moment, sort of. And he rolls of quick, without the lapse this time, when they’re done, cleaning the both of them off methodically, as if he’s not needy the way he most definitely is. Like he’s trying to hide something in plain sight. That’s ballsy, but, well, Ryouta’s nothing if not that, Daiki supposes. (His words, about wanting only what’s here, that he could go somewhere else if he wanted what Daiki didn’t, what Daiki couldn’t give—are they both settling for less with each other, even though they want more, even though each other is the peak of that? It’s a little bit of a paradox, but it makes more sense than any of the rest of this shit.) And Daiki lets him, rolling over close enough to feel the heat of Ryouta’s body as he dozes off but not close enough to touch.