hopefully this makes it in! how about a scenario where kise teaches his best friend (whom he also has a crush on) how to play basketball, and she accidentally throws the ball at his... you know... thing XD
gg kise -Admin Fyre
“Come on, ________cchi, a layup is the easiest shot in basketball! There’s no way you can get it wrong!”
You made a face at him, the kind of pout that Kise thought was really cute, but didn’t yet have the guts to tell you so. “Can you go over it again? I keep messing up the order - what, three steps towards the basket—”
Kise stifled a laugh and motioned for you to toss the basketball at him, Kise’s caught with fluid ease, unlike your rickety clumsiness. “Look, at first it might seem a bit mechanical to you, and the footwork is the main aspect of it. Just dribble towards the basket, step off with your left foot…”
As he spoke, Kise demonstrated, making his way towards the basket and jumping up, easily tipping the basketball against the backboard and it swished through the net, bouncing on the ground away from the basket.
Kise spun to face you, beaming. “Just like that.”
You coughed delicately. “Uh.”
Of course you looked awkward. Kise didn’t blame you. You’d never tried basketball before, and Kise had begun playing back in middle school. But well, he still had that crush on you.
Hopefully teaching you to play basketball could, uh, draw the two of you together?
Maaaaaaybe you’d fall in love with him too?
Yep, Kise liked that scenario very much.
“You just need to keep practicing.” Kise picked up the basketball and held it out towards you. “Come on, we’ll do a quick one-on-one. Five points. I’ll give you some more pointers while we play, okay?”
“You’re a Miracle! You could kick my ass with your eyes closed!” You protested, but took the basketball from him anyway, dribbling it a few times as Kise walked you to center court.
Kise snickered. “I’ll go easy on you.”
You stuck your tongue out at him. “How am I even supposed to start, then?”
“Well, competitive games start off with a tip-off, and the tallest players jump to try to get the ball first. But since you’re basically a new player, you can start with the ball, alright?”
“Eh…I’ll try?” You spun the basketball in your hands, then looked up at Kise, who stood across from you, his stance relaxed but his expression completely alert, golden eyes bright.
The others weren’t kidding when they said Kise Ryouta became a different person on the court.
“You’ll take the ball from me the moment I dribble past you!” You huffed.
Kise rolled his eyes. “Then I’ll teach you how to stop me from taking the ball from you. Don’t worry, I’ll walk you through everything.”
As if it’s that easy. You rolled your eyes. “Why don’t you start and show me how it’s done?” you suggested, tossing the ball at Kise.
What you didn’t expect was that your throw had a bit more force than you intended, and it was lower than you had assumed, and your gasp was too late for Kise to realise what was about to happen.
It all happened in slow motion, and then suddenly it was over as quickly as it begun.
Kise made a strangled sound and crumpled to the floor, hands clamped protectively between his legs, and you knew you should be asking if he was okay, or apologising, but what came out of your mouth instead was uncontrollable laughter. “Oh God I’m so sorry Kise! I’m really sorry!”
“You,” Kise wheezed. “Did that on purpose.”
“I did not! Shit, are you okay?” But you were still laughing too hard - and you, too, practically fell over on the ground, clutching your stomach and tears leaking from your eyes. “Oh God, I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to do that. But you should have seen the look on your face - pfft.”
“Ha ha. Very funny. I bet you’re having the time of your life here, watching me be miserable over the loss of my—”
“I’m not, damnit. C’mon, can you stand?” You stood up, offering a hand to your best friend with a cheesy grin. “Look, I’ll treat you to Maji Burger as an apology. Deal?”
As if Kise wasn’t already burning with embarrassment (and pain). This was a REALLY bad day. But despite his extremely good looks (if he did say so himself) and well-kept figure, he could never turn down free food. “Now we’re talking.”
“And by the way, I really am sorry.”
“Of course you are. Can I get a kiss as an apology?”
He’d meant the last bit as a joke, but was completely taken back when you stood on tiptoe and kissed him briefly and quickly on his cheek, without a shred of hesitation. “There you go. Come on, let’s go!”