Chapter Text
“Okay so, has everyone met their quota for the game?” Midorima inquires, seeing as Akashi hasn’t played this game, having gone for scouting their next opponent.
“45,” Aomine says, covering his yawn with his hand.
“32,” Murasakibara says, diving for the maiubo bag. Midorima shoots him a dirty look, but says nothing. He pushes up his own glasses and tells them, “I myself have scored 36 points, 6 above the quota.”
“15 passes that scored,” Kuroko offers and Midorima nods in satisfaction. All eyes turn to their final member.
“And you, Kise? How many points have you scored?” Midorima asks, and Kise lets out a nervous laugh.
“Um, 23? Kurokocchi didn’t pass to me much so-”
“I pass to whoever I think will score,” Kuroko says blandly, and Kise tears up immediately. “So mean, Kurokocchi!”
“It’s useless wailing. 10 laps around the ground,” Midorima tells him sternly, and Aomine guffaws. “Kise, you idiot, how difficult can it be to score 30 points?”
“Kise-chin is lazy,” Murasakibara says, mouth stuffed with food.
“I don’t want to hear that from you, Murasakibaracchi!” Kise tells him hotly, tears flowing down his cheeks.
“Crying will not get you out of punishment, Kise-kun,” Kuroko tells him, and Kise trudges sadly to perform his punishment.
Just when he’s about to start, (Aomine cheering him in the background, honestly what a meanie) he spots red hair.
“Akashicchi!” he gushes, running toward their Captain and glomping him gleefully. He remains unaware of the burning stares from his teammates.
Akashi laughs softly, a beautiful sound, and Kise immediately feels better. “Akashicchi is back, guys!” he tells his teammates, who react with varying degrees of coldness.
Kuroko gives him a hard stare, Murasakibara is indifferent, Aomine mumbles something under his breath, and Midorima purses his lips so hard he looks constipated.
“We can see that, Kise,” Midorima informs him stiffly.
“I’m just back from Shohei, and I don’t think they’ll be a problem,” Akashi begins, as he sits down on the bench, retying his shoelaces, Kise clinging firmly to his side.
“Their center might give difficulties,” Akashi looks at Murasakibara and smiles at him, “but he is no match for Murasakibara.”
Murasakibara practically glows.
“Akashicchi, Akashicchi,” Kise tells him, successfully focusing Akashi’s attention on him, “I didn’t make the quota today!”
“That isn’t something to be proud of, Kise-kun,” Kuroko tells him, and before Kise can open his waterworks, Akashi chastises Kuroko. “Now, now, Kuroko, there’s no need to be mean,” he says, and Kuroko’s expression sours.
“Akashicchi, my hero!” Kise says, wrapping his hands around Akashi’s neck.
“That doesn’t mean you will not do the laps, Kise,” Akashi tells him, standing up. Kise pouts, and Akashi relents slightly. “Tomorrow. You must be tired today.”
“Favouritism,” Aomine coughs, and Akashi gives him a reproaching look. “It isn’t favouritism, Aomine. Kise will damage his knees if he runs immediately after his game.”
Kise beams brightly at Akashi, and bounds out the door, while Aomine, Murasakibara and Midorima (who gives Akashi an inscrutable look) follow.
Akashi turns to look at the final member of the team, standing just behind him, practically seething in anger.
Of course, it wouldn’t be obvious to anyone that didn’t know Kuroko Tetsuya very well.
“Kuroko,” he says and Kuroko wraps his arms around Akashi’s waist, resting his chin on Akashi’s shoulder. Akashi tries not to shudder at the warm breath that blows against his ear.
“Akashi-kun certainly favours Kise-kun, doesn’t he?” Kuroko whispers and Akashi tries to turn around in Kuroko’s grip, but it’s too strong.
Kuroko nips Akashi’s earlobe, making the redhead gasp softly.
“Akashi-kun, I’m angry with you. How do you plead?” Kuroko murmurs and Akashi laughs.
“Kuroko is certainly very feisty today, isn’t he?” Akashi twists in Kuroko’s now lax grip to face his boyfriend.
“Tetsuya,” he whispers against the blue haired boy’s lips before closing the distance between them.
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