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Kagami’s last day in Japan arrives sooner than Aomine would’ve preferred, and the blue-haired boy still hasn’t quite come to terms with the fact that that big basketball idiot is really leaving. In the weeks leading up to Kagami’s departure, Aomine took every chance he got at making some snide comment about him returning to L.A. – “I guess even idiots have to go to college, huh” – but it had always remained a thought at the back of his mind that Kagami would be on the other side of the world by the end of the summer. And who knew how long he’d stay there. Maybe he’d go pro in America; maybe he wouldn’t come back. These were all speculations Aomine never really bothered to put any proper thought into. The reality was Kagami was leaving and in all the time they had left to spend together, Aomine would rather think about anything else besides that.
“You have poor timing,” The boy remarks, looking across the table at Kagami, who is three burgers into his usual Maji Burger feast.
Kagami washes down the last bite of a cheeseburger with cola before he responds, “What are you talking about?”
A hand propped under his chin and his eyes looking drearier than usual, Aomine merely blinks at the other boy before he sighs, “You know what Sunday is, right?”
“Your birthday,” Kagami answers, pausing before unwrapping the next burger on his tray. He wasn’t looking at Aomine as he spoke, “Yeah, I know.”
“I mean, I’m not the type who gets worked up over something stupid like that but – “
“Look,” Kagami interrupts, finally peering up from the mess of wrappers and used napkins sprawled before him, “if it wasn’t so close to school starting, I’d stay and we could do something for your birthday. But I have to leave before September comes around and since my dad wants to find me an apartment as soon as possible…”
He trails off in the midst of the sentence – or was he still talking? Aomine wasn’t listening anymore; he’d tuned out of the conversation somewhere between “I’d stay” and “But I have to leave.”
Instead, Aomine recalls the moment Kagami broke the news to him; he’d dropped by the red head’s place on a Friday evening, expecting Kagami to cook a meal for the two of them and eat together as they normally did. He had also planned to play him one-on-one, and even spend the night if Kagami was in the mood – which was usually the case.
But that Friday was different. Aomine knew there was something off as soon as an absent-minded Kagami greeted him at the door, not really looking him in the eyes. He’d muttered this and that about how the meal he wanted to cook didn’t turn out right and how he had opted to order in instead. Kagami didn’t say much during the course of dinner and it wasn’t until they were under the sheets that night, Aomine’s lips tracing Kagami’s collarbone when he finally said it:
“Hey, Aomine. I’m going back, you know. Back to L.A.”
“Hey,” Aomine says, snapping out of the memory and reclining in his seat. “It’s your last day in Japan before you go back,” he turns his head to survey the restaurant. It’s three o’clock on a Wednesday afternoon, so it’s no surprise that the place is packed. Aomine takes a look at the hoard of hungry customers and grimaces, “Should you really be spending it at Maji Burger?”
“They don’t have Maji Burger in America,” Kagami replies, stone-faced, as if the answer couldn’t be more obvious.
Aomine merely frowns – he doesn’t have the energy to even try to argue. With another sigh, he makes a grab for his cola and stubbornly drains the remainder of it.
But Kagami speaks up again, “After this let’s play some ball,” he offers.
“That’s ten points, Kagami. I win again,” Aomine declares, picking up the basketball by his foot. Kagami is standing across from him on the outdoor court where they had played against one another for the first time – out of breath and wiping the sweat from his chin with the collar of his t-shirt.
“One more match,” Kagami urges, just as Aomine moves to collect his belongings by the surrounding fence.
“Forget it,” Aomine rebukes, “You’ve already lost three times; you’re not going to win the next one.”
But Kagami is still adamant and he holds out his hands to receive the ball, “I have to at least beat you once today.”
Aomine doesn’t say anything as his eyes flicker over to Kagami, whose hands remain open and unwavering. He spins the basketball between his own before finally tossing it over to the other boy, “What happens if you don’t win? Are you going to stay here in Japan until you beat me?”
“If I have to, yeah,” Kagami dribbles the ball and gestures for Aomine to come at him, “Hell, I could put off school to keep playing basketball with you.”
He knows it’s a joke but Aomine has to ignore the way his chest just tightened. He swallows the lump in his throat before throwing himself into the game, having no intention to lose. Aomine figures that by now there’s no use in getting his hopes up.
Both Aomine and Kagami know that they shouldn’t be up this late, since Kagami’s flight the next morning leaves at eight and Aomine will have to drive him there at least two hours beforehand. But that doesn’t do much to persuade them as they spend their last night together in bed – as perfectly ravenous as they should be, sheets tousled and thrown to the side, barely making time to breathe in between the moments where they’re wrapped up in one another. Aomine can see the sweat glistening off the side of Kagami’s face and down his neck, and he takes in the image before he leans in for a greedy kiss.
It’s three a.m. when Aomine slumps into the bed space next to Kagami. With his back turned to the other boy, Aomine simply listens to the sound of his own heavy breathing, falling into perfect harmony with the other’s.
Kagami coils up behind him and kisses the skin of his shoulder. He’s silent in the time it takes for Aomine to get used to the sudden warmth against his body, and then finally: “Happy Birthday, Aomine.”
“My birthday’s not until Sunday, idiot.”
“I know, I know,” Kagami mutters with the slightest tinge of annoyance. “But since I won’t be here by then…” he stops and nestles his forehead against the back of Aomine’s neck, breathing him in. “Time zones are weird and I’ll probably have trouble keeping up. I don’t want to be late when I say it, so I’m saying it now.”
“That doesn’t make any sense,” Aomine refutes, but he’s smiling again and his hand automatically reaches back to find Kagami’s head. He grabs at the familiar red hair and musses it up, sweeps of his hand eventually turning into gentle strokes. “I’ll call you while you’re in L.A., so you better be awake to pick up. I don’t give a shit about time zones, if you don’t answer I’ll go over there personally to wake your ass up.”
Kagami snorts, “If it means I can see you, maybe I shouldn’t pick up your calls at all.”
“Don’t just say something like that, it’s embarrassing,” Aomine scowls.
The red head snakes an arm around Aomine’s waist from behind him, and the tips of his fingers brush against the boy’s abdomen, making him tense against his touch. “Go to sleep,” Kagami mumbles. “We have to be up in a couple of hours.”
He doesn’t say anything else to retort Aomine’s earlier comment, which Aomine finds strange for exactly five seconds before he remembers the reality of their situation and what “in a couple of hours” means for them.
The ride to the airport is quiet and Aomine lets Kagami sleep for most of it, brief conversations taking up topics like what to do with the various t-shirts Aomine has borrowed after spending the night and forgotten to return, or whether or not Kagami remembered to retrieve his passport from the kitchen counter that morning – a brief scare for the both of them before it was found in the pocket of his pants.
“Jesus Christ, Kagami,” Aomine is not finished berating him when they finally reach the airport’s boarding gates. “I almost turned the car around to go back to your place, you know. How is an idiot like you going to college anyways?”
“Well you didn’t, and I have it on me so what does it matter?” Kagami scoffs, waving his passport in his right hand. “Could you calm down for a second, Aomine? I don’t need my last memory of you to be one where I have every urge to punch you in the face.”
“Don’t push it, Bakagami.”
“You don't push it, Ahomine.”
Aomine shoots a glare at Kagami, who returns it with one of his own. Their bickering is cut short by the overhead announcement that Kagami’s flight is now boarding, and suddenly the constriction in Aomine’s chest is back and more urgent than ever. “Kagami,” he begins, and he can’t quite bite his tongue in time to keep the words from coming out, “I wanted…” he pauses. “About you and I… there’s still some things I have to say.”
“Wait,” The red head interrupts, ruffling the hair on the back of his head in a frustrated display. “You don’t have to say anything. I know it’s weird for you. Actually, it’s weird for me, too.”
Aomine raises a brow, “So then…”
“Just say something irritating like you normally would.”
“Fine,” Aomine frowns, hardening his expression, “Don’t go.”
“I said something irritating, not stupid – ”
“I’m going to miss you,” He interjects. And finally he gets it right. “I guess.”
A beat before Kagami’s ears turn bright red and he clears his throat, avoiding Aomine’s gaze until he composes himself just enough to respond, “I know it’s still not Sunday, but happy birthday anyways.”
“You don’t have to keep saying it,” Aomine says bluntly, placing a hand on the back of his neck as he stands there awkwardly, “This is going to be a pretty shitty birthday anyways – with you gone and all.”
“You’re right, it is pretty shitty,” Kagami nods, a chuckle escaping.
“You got anything for me?” Aomine beckons, “I mean like a gift.”
“Uhh…” Kagami lowers his bags to the floor, freeing his hands to pat down his pockets before turning up empty, “I got nothing.”
“Bakagami…” Aomine repeats under his breath. With a final survey of the boy’s face – he wasn’t quite sure why he needed to remember this but something told him to make every detail count – he shrugs, “Then just… call me? I don’t know. Say it again when it’s actually my birthday, you know.”
The hug before they part is awkward and clumsy at first, both of them unsure just how much time is allotted for two boys of their stature to embrace before it gets weird. They’d never done this in public before. Just as Kagami pulls away though, Aomine finds himself reaching forward once more, and Kagami is back in his arms before he has time to react. The smell of Kagami’s shampoo – no different from the scent on his shirts and most prominently on his pillows – fills Aomine’s lungs and he can’t help but tighten his hold on the other boy. Only for an instant though; a few seconds too short to really take anything from it, and he finally lets go.
Eight months later
When Kagami comes to pick up Aomine at the airport in L.A., the first remark Aomine makes is that his hair has gotten too long and he needs to get it cut because Aomine doesn’t want people to think he’s hanging out with a bum on his first trip to the States. Kagami runs the wheels of a luggage trolley over Aomine’s foot for that one, and the subsequent argument lasts the entire duration of time it takes them to leave the airport.
“I see you haven’t changed at all,” Kagami says as he stops at the trunk of his car – a dated Honda Civic given to him by Alex, which Aomine complains is too hideous for anyone to be seen driving – to load the taller boy’s luggage. He briefly casts a miffed look Aomine’s way before closing the trunk and striding over to him. A sigh leaves his lips before a smile eventually tugs at the corners, and Aomine can do little to stop the way his stomach flips over at the sight.
“What?” Aomine digs, uncomfortable with the sudden change in atmosphere.
Kagami merely grins, “I missed you. I guess.”
The blue-haired boy makes a sour face, but it doesn’t do much to hide the blush that’s spreading across it. As Kagami retreats into the driver's seat of the car, Aomine follows and takes the one next to him, muttering out loud, “God, you’re so embarrassing.”