Ship: Aomine/Kise, ??/Aomine Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke Major Tags: tags omitted Other Tags: tags omitted Original Work:here by hyalinee Word Count: 439 words
Warnings for prostitution, dub/noncon, abuse mentions, angst. Being a courtesan is not actually a good life.
***
Daiki’s dark skin doesn’t fade during the winter. Kise knows dark skin is meant to be unattractive, meant to mark someone as one of the lower classes who labor outdoors and burn brown, but on Daiki it’s striking. Amongst the lily-white painted courtesans, Daiki stands out like an unpainted clay vase. He is solid and strong, no onnogata or oyama, and he takes Kise’s kisses with an eagerness that Kise likes to believe is real.
Courtesans are often called ‘flowers’ and gifted bouquets but Daiki is earth, solid and lasting. He will remain even after flowers wither away.
That is why, when Kise first sees the bruises on Daiki, he does not recognize them. He knows what bruises look like on fair skin but on Daiki, they blend too easily with the shadows of the bed’s canopy. They are dark smudges like dirt and it’s only when one of Daiki’s arms cradles around Kise’s shoulder that Kise understands the deep bloom of purple-black is a bruise.
“Who did this to you?” He demands, impetuous and outraged that any should have dared to lay rough hands on Daiki. He is a top courtesan! He is the favorite of the son of the youngest prince!
(He may have had to endure such injuries before but Kise carefully does not think about that. The past cannot be changed.)
Daiki looks at the bruise as if surprised by it, eyebrows arching, then shakes his head and draws Kise down for a kiss.
“It doesn’t matter,” Daiki says simply and threads his fingers into Kise’s hair. “I apologize I did not have time to paint over them this time.”
This time.
The words stab into Kise’s heart and he recoils. How many other times has Daiki admitted Kise to his bed while injured? How often has Kise failed to notice?
If he loved Daiki, truly loved Daiki, how had he not seen?
(The answer was simple: if he looked too closely, he might find that Daiki did not like his touch either. Kise was complicit in his own blindness but he could not admit that to himself, not even now.)
Daiki tries to kiss him again, propping himself up gracefully on his elbows but Kise shakes his head.
“Not tonight,” he says despite the high sum he’s paid for the other man’s time. “Tonight, let us rest.”
He lies down and after a second, Daiki follows suit, wrapping his arms around Kise and pulling him close.
Kise has wondered before if Daiki loves him but it’s only now that it occurs to him that Daiki might hate him.
FILL: Team Prince of Tennis, M
Fandom: Kuroko no Basuke
Major Tags: tags omitted
Other Tags: tags omitted
Original Work: here by
Word Count: 439 words
Warnings for prostitution, dub/noncon, abuse mentions, angst. Being a courtesan is not actually a good life.
***
Daiki’s dark skin doesn’t fade during the winter. Kise knows dark skin is meant to be unattractive, meant to mark someone as one of the lower classes who labor outdoors and burn brown, but on Daiki it’s striking. Amongst the lily-white painted courtesans, Daiki stands out like an unpainted clay vase. He is solid and strong, no onnogata or oyama, and he takes Kise’s kisses with an eagerness that Kise likes to believe is real.
Courtesans are often called ‘flowers’ and gifted bouquets but Daiki is earth, solid and lasting. He will remain even after flowers wither away.
That is why, when Kise first sees the bruises on Daiki, he does not recognize them. He knows what bruises look like on fair skin but on Daiki, they blend too easily with the shadows of the bed’s canopy. They are dark smudges like dirt and it’s only when one of Daiki’s arms cradles around Kise’s shoulder that Kise understands the deep bloom of purple-black is a bruise.
“Who did this to you?” He demands, impetuous and outraged that any should have dared to lay rough hands on Daiki. He is a top courtesan! He is the favorite of the son of the youngest prince!
(He may have had to endure such injuries before but Kise carefully does not think about that. The past cannot be changed.)
Daiki looks at the bruise as if surprised by it, eyebrows arching, then shakes his head and draws Kise down for a kiss.
“It doesn’t matter,” Daiki says simply and threads his fingers into Kise’s hair. “I apologize I did not have time to paint over them this time.”
This time.
The words stab into Kise’s heart and he recoils. How many other times has Daiki admitted Kise to his bed while injured? How often has Kise failed to notice?
If he loved Daiki, truly loved Daiki, how had he not seen?
(The answer was simple: if he looked too closely, he might find that Daiki did not like his touch either. Kise was complicit in his own blindness but he could not admit that to himself, not even now.)
Daiki tries to kiss him again, propping himself up gracefully on his elbows but Kise shakes his head.
“Not tonight,” he says despite the high sum he’s paid for the other man’s time. “Tonight, let us rest.”
He lies down and after a second, Daiki follows suit, wrapping his arms around Kise and pulling him close.
Kise has wondered before if Daiki loves him but it’s only now that it occurs to him that Daiki might hate him.