Do you know what’s the best about ship names? I can use them as a password for my office computer and I got praised for “such hard password, how can you even remember that if it doesn’t make sense?” Well Sir, it might not make sense to you…
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*clears throat noisily* do you ever feel like a plastic bag… drifting through the wind… wanting to start again? do you ever feel, feel sO FUCKING DONE ABOUT YOUR OTPS NOT BEING CANON I MEAN THIS IS UNFAIR THIS KIND OF LIFE IS DESTROYING ME MY MOM DIDN’T RAISE ME FOR THIS
Ok stop everything for a second and just imagine your OTP with person A pushing person B against a wall and grinding aginst him in such a sexy and rough way and then telling him he wants to take him right now… Person B blushes but then reaches for the other’s ear and whispers he wants to fuck him too and Person A gets so fucking turned on at the idea
Title: Baker’s Dozen Pairing: Aokise Summary: Kise’s favorite bakery is the one where Aomine works. His favorite pastries are the ones made by Aomine’s hands, just for him. Genre: Flufffffff because I need a lot of it in my life right now.
This bakery had skyrocketed to a number one spot for Kise Ryouta. It was his favorite. But he didn’t love it just for the phenomenal pastries, the warm, homey feel, and the stellar service. He loved it because of a deep, almost gruff voice. He loved it because of a rare, lopsided grin. He loved it because of dark blue hair and a pair of equally dark blue eyes.
He loved it because of Aomine Daiki.
The man never confessed to being the pastry chef, but Kise knew because of the way his hands felt a little gritty, as though he lived in a vat of flour. He knew because of the way he smelled; like fresh baked bread and faintly of sweet creams and fresh fruit. He didn’t need the confession to admire the man.
In fact, Kise would have admired him even if he only worked the store front and nothing more.
They hardly knew one another as people though. Kise knew Aomine’s name, only because the man had said it in a brief phone call that the blonde had been in the store to overhear. Aomine knew Kise’s because it was written in almost every magazine on the newsstand he stopped at to snag the morning paper at the crack of dawn.
He knew Aomine was a chef. Aomine knew he was a model.
He knew Aomine had bigger dreams. Aomine knew Kise was looking to settle down.
He knew Aomine enjoyed basketball because on more than one occasion he’d caught a glimpse of a ball balanced on a stool in the back room. He tried to hint that he loved it too, hoping that maybe he’d be asked for a one-on-one match to test their skills.
Aomine never seemed to get the hint.
Kise also knew that he felt a spark race across his skin whenever their hands brushed. He felt a shiver down his spine every time Aomine said his name, even if it was just to call him up to claim his order.
He didn’t know why he felt these things for someone he only knew in passing. There was just something about Aomine that lured him in. It might have been the attractive face and subtle hints of attractive body, but Kise never fell for someone based on looks alone. People might assume, as a model, that he’d be shallow and never look past the surface, but he always dug deeper.
With Aomine, there was treasure to be found in every plunge.
"What did you call me?”
“Oh, I like to add -cchi to the names of people I admire!” He didn’t realize how close to a confession the admission might sound.
Aomine’s face lit up and he disappeared into the back room muttering, “That’s stupid, baka Kise."
"Heeeey!” Kise whined. “You shouldn’t treat customers that way!”
“You aren’t just a customer, baka. You haven’t been for a while.”
Now it was Kise’s turn to blush.
He went to that bakery once every week, sometimes twice, or three times if he had a craving that needed to be sated. Sometimes that craving wasn’t for a pastry at all, but for something-one else.
This week he had frequented it almost daily, coming in after a shoot and staying until Aomine was forced to kick him out to lock up.
They conversed about everything. Kise found out that Aomine was an only child. He confessed to having sisters and growing up as the only boy. Aomine only laughed harder when Kise smacked him for pointing out how it now made sense that the blonde was such a girl sometimes.
He found out about Aomine’s high school basketball career, how he had a chance for a college scholarship. But he opted to stay at home to take care of his mother after his parents got divorced. Her job was barely enough to pay the rent and Aomine cared too much to let her lose her home and her son on top of losing her husband. Kise cried after listening and Aomine had ruffled his hair almost affectionately and reassured him that he hadn’t given up his dreams.
“One of these days, when everything is stable, I’m gonna try again. And I’m gonna get it. I’m gonna go pro."
Kise believed him. He believed that glimmer of power and hope in those eyes and offered the same in his own.
Kise jumped. “Did you just call me–”
“I thought I’d try it out.”
“It was weird, huh?”
“No. I liked it. I liked it a lot.”
Aomine chuckled. “Ryouta it is then."
"I’ve gotta bring some sweets to work for a celebratory thing."
"A celebratory thing?” Aomine chuckled as he pulled out a box for the customer that had been in the store before Kise.
“Yeah. Like…” He paused and tilted his head to the side. “I don’t really know what its for, to be honest. I don’t think I was paying attention.”
Aomine snorted. “Lost in your own world.”
“Shut up, Aominecchi! I was thinking about other things.” He crossed his arms and pouted, earning him a chuckle from the ace and a soft titter from the elderly woman Aomine was packing scones for. “It probably has something to do with the success of the newest shoot. It’s just a small get together, so I really only need a few dozen, okay? I’ll be back on Friday to pick them up. I trust your judgement, so put whatever you want in them. Surprise me!”
“I’ve got your four dozen ready, Ryouta.”
“Four? I thought I said I only needed a few.”
“Three are for your ‘celebratory thing’.” He grinned. Kise loved that grin. “The fourth is for you.”
“A whole dozen for me?” Kise rummaged in his pocket for his wallet and left more than enough money on the counter. He always left exorbitant tips for his favorite baker.
“Yeah. A whole dozen for you.” He placed the long box on the counter and pushed it toward the blonde. “Open it.”
“No. In the alley out back, baka. Yes, open it here.” He rolled his eyes, but the action did nothing to remove the mirth that lay within them.
Kise huffed and pulled the box closer to him. He slid a thumb beneath the crease and watched the top pop open. There were a dozen of his favorite pastries inside, but each one had a letter. Golden orbs widened as they scanned across the neatly laid out pastries.
Line one read: Will
Line two: You g-
Line three: -o out
Kise blinked and lifted his gaze to find Aomine extending a hand, bag in tow.
“It’s a baker’s dozen. You get 13.”
Tentatively, he reached for the bag and dipped his hand inside.
The final pastry read: With me?
He knew he shouldn’t cry. Men didn’t cry over being asked out, did they? The tears fell, regardless of his internal attempts to stop them.
“Should I take the tears as a yes?” Aomine’s smile faltered and Kise saw the hint of fear and nervousness that the man had been hiding so well.
He wiped his eyes with the wrist of his sleeves and sniffled loudly. There was no one in the bakery anyway. “Of course, baka.” He whispered. He took a small bite of the final pastry. “Daiki always make them best.”
Aomine chuckled and reached a hand across the counter. Kise lifted his hand to lace their fingers together. For once, the blonde received a soft, genuine smile in return. “Just for you, Ryouta."