Archive of Our Own

Hanamichi hummed to the tune of a pop song that he didn’t know the name of as he neatly folded his clothes. He placed them inside his locker, hinges faintly creaking as he closes it. He quickly changed into his dark tank top and track shorts, then carefully laced up his beat-up pair of Jordan 6. Once they were snug on his feet he gave them a light stomp. Satisfied, he exits the clubroom and makes his way to the hallway leading to the school gym, eager to show up for training with the other club members that afternoon.

The National Tournament was nearing and today Hanamichi was going to be able to practice with everyone again after they’d just got back from their week trip to Shizuoka prefecture for their match with Josei High and where their training week took place. While the rest of the team was away, Hanamichi stayed at Shohoku doing a lot of intense training as well. The soreness from many attempts to making jump shots lingered in his arms, legs and the soles of his feet, but he still couldn’t wait to see their faces once they see him play in their scrimmage. It's about time he got to show off what he's been working on for the past few days.

When he steps foot into the gym, his humming stops, noticing the absence of shoes squeaking and balls thudding against the floor. His eyes curiously scanned the court and found that some of his teammates had huddled into a circle, seemingly discussing something serious judging from their hushed voices. Could they be talking about their training since the past week?

“Hey!” Hanamichi shouted, walking arrogantly towards the group, “What are you people talking about without Shohoku’s secret weapon, huh?”

Upon noticing his presence, Kogure, Miyagi, and Mitsui have suddenly gone quiet, averting their gazes a bit, as if trying to hide something. Did they lose against Josei? Are they still going to the Nationals? Am I still going to be able to play? What happened while everyone was away?

Hanamichi quickly grew frustrated, “What’s the big deal!? Are you hiding some special moves you learned from Josei High? Formulating strategies? What, what!”

“You’re so noisy, you moron,” Rukawa mumbled from the other side of the court without looking at the group, successfully delivering a 3-point shot to the basket which Hanamichi ignored.

Kogure looked to the other two with a worried expression, “Should we tell him?”

“Tell him. He’s sixteen, not a grade schooler,” Mitsui grumbled.

Hanamichi looked at the three in confusion. 

“Earlier in the clubroom while I was getting changed,” Miyagi scratches the side of his cheek, “I found this.” he reaches into his pocket and brings out a familiar looking wrapper made of foil, the ring-like content that the packaging sealed is unmistakably a condom. Hanamichi stared silently at the object in Miyagi’s hand.

Mitsui crossed his arms, “You do know what this is, right?”

Hanamichi frowned, “I know what a condom is!”

“Yeah well, someone must’ve dropped this, probably was too busy to notice it fall out of their jacket or something,” Miyagi says, emphasis on the word ‘busy’ and then pocketing the object, “We’ve decided to just hold onto it until someone speaks up.”

“Or just throw it away," Mitsui gestures vaguely in the air, "Since there’s plenty of those in convenience stores.”

Then a scoff, “Exactly what somebody who leaves condoms at school would say,” Miyagi mumbled in an accusing tone.

Mitsui turned to the shorter boy, his expression twisting indignantly, “I told you already, it wasn’t me! I just got here like everybody else! When could I have possibly left that, tell me!?”

Miyagi raises one of his arched brows, “You’re a thug, you have your own ways.”

Mitsui narrowed his eyes at Miyagi, “And you aren’t? You talk as if you’re not as much of a fuck up as I am, Miyagi.”

Miyagi glared, “I’m not the one who nearly got us all disqualified—”

“Guys, please,” Kogure loudly speaks up, “We only have a few days left before the Nationals, are you really going to create a rift in our team over something like this?”

Miyagi and Mitsui grew quiet, shifting in their places uncomfortably. The only noise in the gym came from Rukawa practicing by himself, the metal hoop creaking as he delivers another shot.

“Finding out who this belongs to isn’t important, alright? Let’s all be mature about this and just keep working hard until the tournament, yes?” Kogure said in a tone that left no room for argument.

The two mumble a ‘yes’.

It became unusually quiet in the gym. The three older boys all turned to Hanamichi as if anticipating a violent reaction from him about this situation. His stomach turned and his palms started to feel sweaty. This was one of the times he wishes he wasn't the center of attention, but Michi and Ryochin were fighting all because of…

“Sakuragi, do you have something to say?” Kogure asked.

“…Uh,“ Hanamichi spoke reluctantly, gaze lowered to the polished wooden floor, “It was me...”

He could feel the three stare at him like they were seeing him with shaved hair for the first time.

“What?”

Hanamichi looked up from the floor, he spoke as firm as he can, “It’s mine.”

Silence stretched out, almost like they were struggling to make a connection between Hanamichi and the condom, before Miyagi and Mitsui burst into uncontrollable laughter.

Kogure looks confused, “You mean… The condom, you left it?” he says ‘you’ like it’s the strangest thing he’s ever heard.

“Yeah,” Hanamichi grumbles, scowling at the floor again as the two jerks continue to laugh their asses off.

“Stop it, Hanamichi,” Miyagi says after his laughter had settled, out of breath, “We get it, we won’t fight anymore.”

Mitsui wipes a tear from his eye, “Oh, that was a good one.”

When Hanamichi didn’t respond for another minute Miyagi straightens up, “You’re joking right?”

Hanamichi said nothing. To his displeasure he felt his face start to burn. He saw the amusement in their faces slowly disappear.

“No way,” Mitsui muttered grimly.

“What’s with that face?” Miyagi stared, expression twisting into a horrified one and grabbing the front of his shirt, voice shaking in disbelief, “Are you for real!?”

“We were only gone for a week, what the hell happened!?”

“Why aren’t you saying anything!?” 

“Are you telling the truth right now!?”

From the distance, Rukawa can be heard muttering faintly, “Idiots.”

“Will you two calm down!” Kogure placates, but is completely drowned out by the fuss the two were making.

Normally Hanamichi would be part of the back-and-forth screaming. He absolutely hated it when people made assumptions about him, he hated it even more when people react to the things he does as if they were outlandish, unimaginable feats from him. He always wanted to voice out what he hates, loudly. But the circumstances that led to this situation weren’t that far off from the conclusions that his clubmates were making, and he has no idea how to explain himself.

For once, he felt the need to think about his words carefully, but their non-stop hounding was making it hard to even hear his own thoughts. 

“Shut up!!!” Hanamichi screamed, sound echoing off the walls of the gym.

It was completely quiet again. Miyagi, Mitsui, and Kogure stare at him with varying degrees of bewildered expressions on their faces, waiting for his next words, even Rukawa seems to have stopped playing in the distance.

Hanamichi’s gaze was still fixed on the floor, his fists were clenched and his breaths started to come fast in trepidation for what he was about to say. He silently thinks back to the events from the past few days when his personal training began–

______________

One week earlier

The rim and backboard of the basket made a harsh thud as it takes the impact of a ball, the sound echoing in the gym.

“No good!” Ohkusu shouts.

“Don’t just throw it carelessly!” Noma gesticulated with his hands on the proper way to throw the ball, “Aim for the basket, Sakuragi!”

“What, are you tired already!?” Ohkusu taunts.

The muscle of his arms were aching from hours of nonstop use, holding the ball up was becoming more difficult and his friends commentary since the past few days were starting to grate his ears.

Hanamichi sends a furious scowl towards the two boys which instantly causes them to flinch where they stood.

“W-we’re trying to help you here!” Ohkusu stutters.

“We agreed to 60 shots ‘til break time,” Yohei says, preparing to pass another ball to Hanamichi, “So c’mon, Hanamichi. 15 more, you can do it.”

He stares at the ball in Yohei’s hands. Just reaching for it felt like too much work. 

Hanamichi bends his body to lean his hands on his knees, breathing shallowly, “I can’t lift my arms anymore…” he mumbled. He was dripping with sweat from exertion, even more so from the summer heat despite it being dark out already, and his arms felt like twigs on the verge of snapping.

Yohei takes a moment to stare at Hanamichi, looking at him up and down before holding the ball against his side with an arm, “Maybe we can take that break early.”

“Hey, don’t go easy on him, Yohei,” Noma says, “he only has a week left to do this, he’s got to complete that set!”

“We’ve made 2,650 shots today, he can probably make a hundred more in just an hour, let him have a few minutes,” Yohei rationalized.

The others relented at Yohei’s words. Hanamichi huffed, he didn’t feel great about cutting the set short when he knew he could push himself a little more, but Yohei’s offer to take a break sounded too good right now and the fatigue was starting to catch up to him. 

“I’ll get you something to drink,” Yohei says, patting Hanamichi on the small of his back, palm briefly dragging down the middle of his spine as Yohei moves away.

Hanamichi’s chest rose and fell sharply, watching Yohei walk out of the gym through the front doors. Amidst the ache he felt all over his body, he felt something else at the pit of his stomach.

Yohei was observant. As indifferent as he was to sports, Hanamichi thinks Yohei takes basketball more seriously than he likes to lead on. He was as serious about it as he was taking on a group of pompous thugs on the street. He sensed threat before everyone else. He knew just what to say whether it was to prevent fights or to get under people’s skin, and he knew just where to aim to get his opponent to stay on the ground.

It wasn’t that different from when they were at the court. Yohei recognized what a good or bad form looked like, how much strength was needed in every flick of the wrist, or when Hanamichi was reaching his limit, sometimes even more than he did. If he was going to go with anyone’s intuition, it would be Yohei’s. Whatever Yohei suggested, whatever Yohei told him to do, he’d probably do it.

But Yohei was giving him a break even when he hasn’t finished the goal they had set for him. He was resting when he hasn’t earned it yet. At this rate, he wasn’t going to make progress. He has to keep moving. He has to show that he’s taking this seriously. 

Hanamichi soon followed, straightening up and running after the other boy. Yohei was already down the road across the campus by the time Hanamichi caught up.

“You should’ve just waited inside," Yohei says while Hanamichi catches his breath.

The air was much cooler outside, providing a comforting breeze against their bodies. Under the darkening sky the shadows on the trees and nearby buildings have slowly turned into a muted blue. The buzzing of cicadas grew quieter and falling dust became visible under the street lights. They took their time walking to the vending machine that was close to the campus. Yohei was gazing up at the sky, hands in his pockets. Hanamichi mirrors him, shoves his hands in his pockets and looks upwards, “I can’t. I gotta move. I’ll feel even more tired if I stay still.”

Yohei looked at him funny, in a way he knew he was about to be teased, “Is that how it works?”

“Once I sit down, it’s like I’m more aware that I’m tired, like I suddenly know how heavy I am, and then it gets harder to get back up,” Hanamichi explains, something he understood when he trained with Gori.

“So you trick your body into thinking it’s not tired by… not letting it rest?” 

“Yeah!”

Yohei stared ahead of the road thoughtfully, “Deprive it of something so it never knows to want it.”

Once they stood in front of the selection of beverages Yohei proceeded to pull out his wallet.

“That’s why it’s good to be moving all the time to keep your momentum,” Hanamichi jogged in place next to Yohei, “You should listen to what this genius says!”

“Mhm,” Yohei hums distractedly as he checks his wallet for change, using a single hand to keep it open while reading the buttons on the vending machine. In the corner of Hanamichi’s eye, he spots something that was neither a coin nor a yen bill in Yohei’s wallet. Hanamichi’s eyes grew wide once he realizes what the object was. 

“Pocari sweat, right?” Yohei asked innocently.

“Yohei is that a condom!?”

Yohei turned his head, “Huh?”

“That’s totally a condom!” Hanamichi shouts, completely scandalized, “Why do you have a condom!?”

“Ssshhh! You’re too loud!” Yohei frantically covers Hanamichi’s mouth with his hand, briefly looking around the dark street for anyone that might’ve heard. They were alone.

Hanamichi pries Yohei’s hand off with a bit of difficulty before loudly whispering back, “Why is that in your wallet!?”

Yohei hesitantly explains, “I just have it on me in case…”

“In case what!?”

Hanamichi waited for an explanation, but instead of answering, a placating smile spread on Yohei’s lips. He spoke calmly, “Hanamichi, let’s just get a drink so we can get back to training, okay?”

At the mention of training, Hanamichi couldn’t think of a response. He stood still and quietly watched Yohei insert money into the vending machine. There was a faint thud as the beverages dropped down before Yohei picked up two cans of pocari sweat, handing the other one to Hanamichi. They walked back to the school gym in complete silence with Hanamichi staring at the back of Yohei’s head. 

When they arrived, Yohei went to sit with everyone on the wooden floors of the gym, he took sips from his can and chatted with the others as if nothing happened, meanwhile, Hanamichi could hardly finish his drink despite his throat begging to be hydrated just minutes ago. How could he possibly think about that after what he just discovered? 

Minutes passed and their short break ended, Yohei got up and walked over with his can already empty in his hand, “You ready to practice again, Hanamichi?” he spoke casually, making Hanamichi almost doubt what he saw.

He looks up at Yohei and belatedly nods in a trance. He forces himself to down the rest of his drink and drags his body into continuing his training. He had to start over after taking a break in the middle of a set, redoing the set of shots he needed to make.

During every pass, every shot he made over the rim, the conspicuous foil wrapper would unwillingly appear in his mind, but before he has time to dwell on it he moved fast and threw another ball towards the basket, effectively keeping the unwanted thoughts away. He kept repeating this process for the next few hours.

Around 10 pm, Hanamichi and his gang decided that it was time to end their training for the day. The other boys started to make their way to the showers, walking with their towels over their shoulders, but Hanamichi stayed in the gym for a bit longer trying to get as many shots as he can make.

“That’s enough already,” Nozomi tiredly says as the backboard makes a loud noise from a missed shot.

“Do more shots, don’t do more shots, make up your minds!” Hanamichi complains.

“So stubborn!” Ohkusu exclaims.

“Just be quick, Hanamichi,” Yohei says before entering the shower area with the others. 

Hanamichi huffs, throwing another ball after they’re gone. He had made over 3,000 shots over the rim that day, a huge development since they started the week of training. He finds himself thinking about the other basketball club members and how their training was going with Josei High. He wondered if they were having just as much of a difficult time as he’s been having, if they were making a lot of progress too. The thought of them getting better nagged his mind.

Determinedly, he swears to himself he’ll make even more progress than them because he’s a genius, after all! Though as much as he wanted to keep moving, his muscles were unbelievably sore, he thinks his legs will give if he takes another step. Not to mention the chafing on his feet was getting hard to ignore. He eventually tidied up the gym for use tomorrow, returning the balls to their rack and sweeping the wooden floors of the court. Once he was satisfied with the state of the gym and the equipment he went straight to the showers. 

Hanamichi got undressed, got under one of the showers, and felt relief once the cool spraying water finally touched his bare skin. He took his time soaping up his body, the fragrance filling his nose. As the water ran, his mind wandered to the events from today. Without the noise and the rush of playing in the gym he couldn’t keep himself from going back to the moment from hours ago, outside in front of the vending machine, where he discovered that Yohei keeps a condom in his wallet.

That could only mean one thing, and the unpleasant feeling Hanamichi had been trying to ignore all night now spread all throughout his body.

“Yohei, you bastard…” Hanamichi muttered to himself as water poured over him, lamenting the fact that he’s been rejected more times than he’s scored in a real basketball match. Meanwhile, his best friend seemed to be well-off with his love life this whole time and Hanamichi had no clue. How long has Yohei been dating a girl? Was he even going to tell him? Why was he hiding this from him? Hanamichi wanted to get mad. He wanted answers. But the longer he thought about it, Yohei likely hid this from him exactly because he’d act like a loser just like he was right now.

He tells himself to quit being childish, blinking away the moisture that gathered in his eyes and unclenching his fists.

Instead of wondering why Yohei was being secretive, Hanamichi starts to wonder how Yohei even got a girlfriend in the first place. They were all known for causing trouble inside and outside the school. Anyone that actually cared about their grades would avoid them like the plague. It was also one of the many reasons why he got dumped. What’s it about Yohei that a girl would find attractive? Hanamichi wondered.

As he rinsed the soap from his body, his thoughts start to drift. He thinks about Yohei from this morning, groggy still as he’d been woken up early to accompany Hanamichi at the school gym. Yohei would always complain, groaning about how troublesome it was being his friend while getting changed. Yohei would show up anyway, in that neat swept-up hairdo that Hanamichi could never pull off.

Yohei watched and Hanamichi played, running until his chest stung, until his calves burned. Carrying out everything he'd picked up from staying late in the school gym and skipping classes in the afternoon. When he did particularly well, he'd turn to the other boy expectantly. Yohei would tell him praises. Sometimes he didn't say anything. His features would twist into something smug yet somehow really soft. It made the sweat trickling down Hanamichi’s skin feel satisfying.

Inevitably, he thinks about Yohei getting up in the morning, getting dressed, and showing up for a girl. He’d watch her, praise her, speak to her with the same calmness Yohei uses on him when he could tell that he was tired. Touch her with the same gentleness as Yohei placing a hand on his back after practice. Then without meaning to, he imagines Yohei pressing his lips against her’s.

The image causes Hanamichi's stomach to twist violently, his annoyance bubbling up like bile. It upset him so much and he couldn’t understand why. He screwed his eyes shut under the cold water pouring over him in an attempt to force the thoughts away.

When Hanamich finished showering, he dried himself with a towel and got dressed into a shirt and a pair of shorts. On his bare feet, he walked out of the gym, to the silent hallways of the school, and into the basketball clubroom where the other boys were sleeping on sheets spread on the floor. He carefully moved around, avoiding his friends who slept in odd positions, and settled in the most roomy spot he could find. It doesn’t take long for sleep to take over him.

Then his eyes snap open in the darkness. He sits upright, feeling thirsty as he searches around the darkness. The others were sound asleep, snoring softly. He carefully got up and walked out of the clubroom, tiles cold against his feet as he wandered the hallways of the school building. At night, the school looked completely different, not as welcoming as it was when the walls were covered in warm afternoon light. Not that it scared him.

On his way to look for water, his ears pick up a faint noise, making him stop in his tracks. His brows knitted together, trying to make sense of it, but he could tell nothing from how muffled it sounded, only that it kept going, again and again.

As he slowly went towards the direction of the noise, his steps led him back to the hall to the gym. Sweat rolled down the side of his neck once he realized the sounds were moans.

A person was doing it with someone in the gym. A couple had snuck into school in the middle of the night to have sex. What the fuck?

The moans continued. His chest pounded. Curiosity got the better of him. He pushed the door open, just a little bit. It was enough to let Hanamichi see that the moans were coming from a girl, and they were caused by Yohei, who had the girl bending over on the gym floor.

Hanamichi’s eyes widened, taking in the scene in front of him: the girl was naked, and her long hair covered her face but above her Yohei was still dressed. The glow from the night sky slipping through the windows would bounce off the polished floor, letting Hanamichi see Yohei's expression. His eyes were tightly shut underneath his dark bangs and his mouth was open in pleasure. He held the girl by her waist and his thrusts would cause the sweat on his pale skin to glisten under the light.

Yohei's eyes drifted open and spots Hanamichi by the entrance, making him freeze behind the door.

Not once stopping his movements, Yohei panted and spoke breathily next to the girl’s ear, “What are you standing there for?” 

Hanamichi wakes up to the sight of the clubroom’s ceiling, paint visibly white as the sun shone through the windows in the morning. He blinks, feeling sweat gathering on his face and his neck, the summer heat making itself known once again. He sits up, heart pounding as he looks over the sleeping bodies around him in confusion.

What the hell was that? Hanamichi pressed a hand to his forehead, trying to recall the details of his dream. From a few feet away, Hanamichi’s eyes found Yohei’s sleeping form, hair free from wax and bangs falling just above his eyelids.

The image of Yohei from his dream flashes in his mind and he could feel heat start to rise up his face. He immediately got up from the sheets and ran out of the clubroom, almost tripping on his way out.

Everything was blindingly bright in the school gym with the sunlight coming through the high windows. Hanamichi was standing quietly in the middle of the court, holding a ball against him, staring into nowhere in particular, lost in thought. He decided to get an early start on today’s training, finding himself unable to go back to sleep. 

The second he hears footsteps approaching in the distance, he hurriedly resumes to dribble, making himself seem busy.

He hears Yohei yawn from the side, “You’re up early.” 

Hanamichi kept dribbling, then he delivers the ball into the basket, it gets in.

“And lively,” Yohei says, from his tone Hanamichi could tell that he was smiling.

“Do you want to wake the others up?” 

Hanamichi turns his head and found that he was right, Yohei was smiling at him, his dark hair was slicked back in his usual hairdo and he was pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

Hanamichi wordlessly nods, he follows Yohei to the hall and finds the others so they can all warm up before they start another day of arduous training. 

He continued to slowly move toward his goal of shooting 20,000 basketballs. He hardly spoke to Yohei during practice, making sure their eyes didn’t meet as much as possible, only speaking or looking at him when Yohei had critiques about Hanamichi’s performance, but for the rest of the time, they barely communicated.

He was no longer keeping track of how many balls were getting in. He wasn’t even thinking about the other basketball club members and their training with Josei High. He spent the rest of the day focusing only on his own rhythmic movements and the basket in front of him, doing his best to repeat the right alignment of his limbs at every jump and every toss of the ball.

Ohkusu lets out a big yawn from where he was sitting on the gym floor, leaning back on his arms, “I’m kinda tired.”

Hanamichi judgmentally eyes the other boy, brows furrowed. He lowers the bottle of water he’d been drinking from, “You’re tired? Doing what?”

Ohkusu grimaces, “Cheering you on! It’s not easy, you know!”

“You punk,” Hanamichi clenches a fist, which has Ohkusu scrambling to the side, “if you were cheering me on you wouldn’t be sitting on your ass!”

“See!? Not easy!”

“All we’ve done is hang around the gym in these past few days,” Noma mused.

“What time is it, anyways?” Nozomi asked.

“12:15,” Yohei answered, staring at his watch.

"That reminds me, we haven't had lunch," Nozomi says.

At that, Hanamichi perks up, glancing over at Yohei, which Yohei caught. He quickly pulls his eyes away.

"I think we deserve a nice big lunch, don't we?" Yohei said.

"Ugh, yes, I'm starving!" Nozomi groaned.

"Let's eat already!" Ohkusu says.

They headed over to the student’s cafeteria, going in line to buy food along with students who seemed to be there to take summer classes, something Hanamichi couldn’t imagine his group doing even if they needed to.

“It feels so strange eating at school during this time,” Nozomi says, settling his lunch at the table.

“Right? I’d just be at home sitting in front of the TV eating cold noodles,” Ohkusu says while chewing on his fried noodles.

"I'd be at the beach enjoying the water."

"I'd probably be working," Yohei says.

“Well, whatever, we might have to get used to it now because of this idiot,” Noma grumbles while looking at Hanamichi, “you better be working hard, you hear me?”

“Eh!?” Hanamichi gives Noma an offended look, “What do you think I’m doing!? I’ve been busting my ass here! Tell that to them!”

Hanamichi gestures vaguely to Ohkusu and Nozomi, which they ignored.

“Don’t boss me around, I’m trying to eat,” Nozomi says with his mouth full.

“Your portion seems smaller this time, Hanamichi,” Yohei points out.

“Huh?” Hanamichi turns to Yohei. He did get himself less variety of side dishes than he usually gets, though still more than what the rest of his friends got, “oh, I uh, just want to get back to training soon.”

“Then shouldn’t you eat?” Yohei says, bringing Hanamichi’s attention back to his untouched food.

He finally takes a bite of his meal, filling his mouth with the crunchy fried breading and the tender meat of his tonkatsu. He proceeded to eat in silence, feeling somewhat embarrassed that he had to be reminded, and it didn't help that he was trying not to talk to Yohei. It was difficult. He talked to Yohei all the time and Yohei indulged him all the time, stopping all of a sudden felt unnatural.

Apart from that, he’s suddenly hyper aware of every time Yohei watches him. It was often.

“After this we should all go to the beach,”  Noma says.

“Ohh, good idea! I really miss the ocean,” Ohkusu mused.

As the group continued to eat quietly Hanamichi felt a pang of guilt. 

“Hey uh,” Hanamichi starts hesitantly, “I know you guys didn’t need to come here and do all of this for me, but you did anwyay. I just wanted to say… Thanks.”

Noma timidly scratches at his patchy mustache, “I mean, I’d probably just be spending my money on pachinko otherwise.”

Ohkusu laughs, “You were just complaining a second ago!”

“But it’s true…”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal, man,” Nozomi says.

“I’m going to finish those shots soon. I’ll finish them even before the week ends,” Hanamichi swears. He was going to make sure that their effort won’t go to waste.

“We know you will. That’s why we’re here,” Yohei says. Hanamichi tries not to look at Yohei's gaze for too long. He has to consciously swallow his food and take another bite. 

“Do it again with your shoulders up!”

“Only 10 more ‘til break time!”

His friends voices could be heard from the video playing on the TV that coach Anzai lended.

In the storage room at 11PM, Hanamichi sat and carefully watched the multiple videotapes of him performing jump shots which his friends recorded. By now, everyone had showered and went straight to bed, but he was restless from thoughts of training, so he got up and went to replay the recordings.

Seeing his own form surprised him. It was subtle, but he looked different compared to the first few videotapes. When he had first saw the recordings he felt so embarrassed seeing his own snappy movements. Uncoordinated limbs scrambling to toss the ball forward, as if he didn’t have control over his body. He would always miss his shot, ball ending up on the side. Now in the more recent recordings, he can see himself raise the ball with more hesitation, body carefully working towards a single goal. Straighter lines. Even after letting go of the ball, his body would remain in position. The ball doesn’t go in but it bumps the rim.

His friends were right, his posture was starting to look more like a real basketball player’s as training progressed. With the remarks made towards his play in mind, he continued to analyze the brief seconds in the videos where he thought he needed work.

He was on the 10th recording, completely absorbed by the video playing on the screen that he doesn’t notice Yohei’s presence.

“Hanamichi, do you have a moment?”

Hanamichi turns in his seat and sees Yohei leaning an arm against the doorframe, sleeves rolled around his elbows, the lines on his forearms visible. His dark bangs fell just above his eyes, hair slightly damp from showering.

Hanamichi stares, in awe for a moment before he remembers that Yohei asked him a question. He blames it on the hours he’s spent analyzing his own body in those videotapes. He nods.

“Is there something bothering you?”

Hanamichi tries not to think about Yohei’s damp hair in his dream.

"No. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I feel like you’ve been ignoring me,” Yohei says.

The video keeps playing in the background. Seconds pass without a response before he adds, “This is about the condom, isn’t it?”

Hanamichi almost jerks at the mention of it.

“Look,“ Yohei sighed, “I don’t have a girlfriend if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“What makes you think I was wondering that?” Hanamichi says defensively.

“You were sulky all day,” Yohei’s hands slip into his pockets, “Since yesterday night actually. Knowing you, I figured you’d go there.”

Hanamichi frowned, he thought he was doing a good job of keeping his emotions. He hated how easy it was for Yohei to figure him out. He should’ve expected it, from someone as sharp as Yohei. Though he didn’t expect the way his body lost its tension, like a tight knot in his chest that he didn’t know was there had untangled at learning that Yohei doesn’t have a girlfriend. The feeling startled him.

But he wasn’t satisfied, “Then why do you have one?”

“It’s nothing. I have some band-aids in my wallet too. It’s just convenient to have it there, that’s all there is to it.”

“Why are you saying it like that…“

Yohei’s brows furrow in confusion, “Like what?”

Like that kind of thing isn’t something you do with someone special to you. Hanamichi wanted to say, but he thinks he’ll sound even more pathetic if he did, “Nevermind.”

Yohei stared at him quietly.

“Hanamichi, if there’s anything else you want to talk about, now’s a good time.”

Hanamichi looked over at the wall beside Yohei for a second, searching in thought. There actually were more things he wanted answers to, like who Yohei had dated before, when did he lose his virginity, among others. But something tells him he wouldn’t feel good with that knowledge, and he was already upset for some reason he couldn't pinpoint.

He didn’t want to waste the opportunity to satisfy his curiosity, instead he asks, “Can I see it?”

“Huh?”

“The condom, can I see it again.”

“I mean, sure,” Yohei calmly takes his wallet from his back pocket and holds the condom wrapper in his hand. Nothing changed. It was still a plain little piece of foil wrapper and Hanamichi felt oddly offended by it.

Glancing at Yohei’s wallet, Hanamichi notices that it wasn’t just a single piece of condom, “Why do you have more than one, you punk?”

“I like to be prepared?” Yohei says, putting the wrapper back in his wallet as if becoming self-conscious.

Hanamichi scowls at him. This bastard. How much did Yohei do it? Was it really a lot? What was the normal amount anyway? How prepared do you have to be? Hanamichi's mind raced trying to wrap his head around the rules around condoms, or sex in general. All that came to mind were the magazines and videotapes that his friends stashed in their rooms and would bring out whenever they came over, which weren’t exactly reliable when it came to details like this as Hanamichi thought about it, they didn’t keep those to understand how a condom works, after all. At school, he vaguely remembers it being mentioned, though he hardly paid attention to any of the teachers, something he regrets now. He didn’t really know any older men that he could ask about these sorts of things either, no way in hell was he going to talk to Gori about sex!

The large gaps in his knowledge were now starting to bother him. He felt more and more like he was failing at another aspect of his life. He finds himself thinking about the rest of the basketball team, wondering if he could approach anyone there, but he wouldn't be able to anyway since they were all at Shizuoka, learning new things without him, knowing more than him.

If Yohei was this prepared… It wouldn’t hurt for him to share what he knew, right? 

“Then… Can you show me how to put it on?”

Yohei blinks at him, “You want me to put the condom on?”

Yohei makes his request sound so bizarre and he already felt like an idiot. He didn’t want to back down, “Yeah, so are you going to?”

“Hanamichi,” Yohei turned his gaze away and rubbed a hand over his face, “I’m not even hard…”

“I just want to see it.”

At that, Yohei stares at him for a moment, seemingly deep in thought before putting his wallet back in his pocket and moving away from the doorway.

“Alright, but let’s move to the bathroom.”

Hanamichi followed him to the building’s male restroom. The silence on the way felt tense for some reason, even though he’s been here with his friend a million times before. He did his best to ignore it as he walked through the hall.

Once there, Yohei brings out the wrapper, rips the foil using his teeth, takes the condom, and swiftly rolls it over his two fingers with a snap.

“It goes in like this.”

Hanamichi looked at the other boy’s fingers. The translucent material shined under the artificial lights of the bathroom. Then he looks at Yohei’s face, “You made me go all the way here just for you to put it on your fingers?”

Yohei stifled a laugh, “Well, condoms can be just for the fingers too, you know.” he demonstrated with his hands by inserting his latex-covered fingers into the narrow pretend-hole using his other hand, creating a subtle rubbery noise. The action almost causes Hanamichi to flinch.

“Condoms don’t even need to be inside a vagina.”

Hanamichi's brows knitted together.

“They can go in your ass, too.”

Hanamichi shifted where he stood. He wracked his mind for any pornography he’s seen and felt uneasy when he couldn’t visualize what Yohei was saying at all, “Why?”

“Cos’ people like it. It makes your stomach feel funny, your toes curl and your hips buck up. That good.” Yohei casually described like he was talking about the flavors of a dish that he wanted Hanamichi to taste. As if he wasn’t talking about something incredibly intimate. 

There is a long pause before Yohei asks, “Do you want to try it?”

Hanamichi wanted to understand, so he nodded.

“Alright.”

Yohei moved closer and closer until Hanamichi could feel his back knock against the restroom wall. The strange feeling returned in Hanamichi’s stomach as hands placed themselves on his waist, slowly dragging down to the side of his hips, then sneaking up the back of his thighs through the hem of his shorts.

Hanamichi swallowed a yelp, unprepared for the action, his hands reflexively found Yohei’s shoulders.

“Uh,” Hanamichi muttered, unsure, “Are you going to do it like this?”

“Mm,” Yohei hummed contentedly while his hands roamed in Hanamichi’s shorts.

“...So what am I supposed to do?” 

Yohei smiles, “Nothing,” he kneads the flesh of Hanamichi’s ass. 

A hand spread one of Hanamichi’s cheeks and the other began to touch his hole, causing an unfamiliar sensation to crawl down his legs and up his back. Warmth quickly spread to his face and in places Yohei touched. His hips jolted at feeling the intrusive fingers circling around his rim, noticing the tip against him was slightly slippery, “…It’s wet.”

“Yeah,” Yohei said calmly, “Condoms can be lubricated.” 

Hanamichi grits his teeth and tightly holds onto Yohei as the hand on his cheek squeezes harder and the fingers in his hole begin to press forcefully, slowly working their way to the first knuckle and curling ever so slightly inside of him. The sensation was not at all what he expected.

“Yohei,” Hanamichi squirmed, “It feels weird… You said it would feel good.”

“It’ll feel good in a bit,” Yohei continued to prod his hole, “I promise.”

Yohei was looking up at him with his gentle downturned eyes and a small smile spreading his lips. It was a look that told Hanamichi that everything was going to be fine, but it didn’t have that calming effect like it usually did. 

Hanamichi’s heart skipped. His eyes drifted closed, finding that the other boy’s gaze was too much for him. He suddenly feels very self-conscious of the fact that he was much taller than Yohei yet he was the one completely surrounded.

He concentrated on the sensation of Yohei’s fingers instead, which spread and turned inside him, pulling back out slowly, fingertips gently tracing his rim before slipping inside again. His hips squirmed and thighs shivered from the persistent movement stretching his hole, bearing with the foreign sensation and waiting for it to feel good like he was told.

“Hanamichi,” Yohei’s movements stop, “Can you turn around and lower your pants for me?”

Reluctantly, Hanamichi turns his body, pushes his shorts just below his buttocks and braces his arms against the wall.

“There… Better,” Yohei says, sounding relieved, placing a hand just below Hanamichi’s back before a sharp sound comes from his mouth. Something wet and warm trickled down the crevice of Hanamichi’s ass and he realized that Yohei spat on him. What the hell!?

Before Hanamichi could react disapprovingly, fingers were already shoving themselves back inside him. 

“Ahh!” Hanamichi’s hips jerked, “Yohei, you, you spit on me!”

“Sorry,” Yohei says, not sounding apologetic at all, “It just makes it easier to do this.”

Yohei’s spit did help the fingers slide in, creating a dirty squelch that made Hanamichi feel conflicted. The boys he’d fought with spat during a fistfight, after the side of their faces had just received a particularly rough blow and the taste of iron would gather in their mouths. It was a way to convey “I don’t give a fuck about you” without saying a word, and it effectively riled up other boys every single time. Hanamichi hated it, he thought it was gross. But despite himself, heat unsettlingly pooled in his stomach the longer he thought about something from Yohei’s mouth touching his body, making it all wet and easier to be used. There was something seriously wrong with him.

Once he could feel every knuckle lodged in, Yohei let out a shaky sigh.

“Fuck, Hanamichi,” he spoke in a breathy voice, “You look so good like this.”

At the compliment, a wave of arousal hit Hanamichi. The heat in his stomach spread throughout his body uncontrollably fast. 

Hanamichi wondered what he looked like to the other boy at that moment. His stupidly big ass out in the open, hole slick and shiny with spit, stretched around Yohei’s fingers. He couldn’t find the image attractive, yet his dick twitched with precum and his hole clenched involuntarily because for some reason Yohei sounded so blissed out, Yohei was enjoying this, Yohei thought he looked good.

He lowered his head, lightly bumping it against the wall, suddenly feeling very naked and belatedly realizing how embarrassing this position was. 

Yohei chuckled, “What’s the matter?” 

“Nothing, just…” Hanamichi muttered, “Hurry up already!”

Hanamichi’s hips jerk when another finger joins and curls inside of him, massaging his inner walls insistently until they rub past an area he never knew was there before. He groaned and his legs quivered. Just now, Yohei had touched something that made him feel incredibly good.

“Was that good?” Yohei whispered.

Not trusting himself to speak, he nodded silently in response. Yohei’s fingers brushed against that same spot again and a shudder ran through his body. His dick was standing fully now, bumping against his stomach and leaking with sticky fluids as his lower body swayed from being fingered. 

This was probably what Yohei meant when they first moved to the bathroom, what he meant by making his stomach feel funny, his toes curl, and his hips buck up. Now that Hanamichi has felt it he was so glad he pushed through. He finally understood this. He had made progress. 

“Fuck,” He panted, eyes closing. He focused on the flames licking at his newly found sensitive nerves, burning low in his gut, melting any coherent thought he has. It felt pleasant, almost as pleasant as touching his own dick. But it was barely enough. He needed it to burn hotter, to spread faster, to consume him, “Keep going…”

Yohei pulls out, leaving Hanamichi feeling awfully empty and his ass twitching around nothing. He turned his head, looking at Yohei in a daze, “Why did you stop?”

Yohei held his erection in his hand and skillfully rolled the condom onto his cock, the veins running along his shaft glared at Hanamichi through the latex.

“I ended up showing you how to wear it after all.”

Hanamichi swallowed at the sight. He’d seen other guys dicks before, he’d been to his friends houses, he’d caught a glimpse of their boners stretching the front of their pants whenever they would huddle to stare at glossy pages filled with girls in too-tight clothes. It was a body part that had always been an afterthought to him, until this moment. It occurred to him that he's never seen Yohei join them before, and he’s never seen Yohei hard. Yohei was just too cool for those kind of things, he thought.

Below him, Yohei’s cock was big, almost as big as he was, and knowing that he was causing it to swell and leak made his face feel impossibly hotter.

“Hanamichi,” Yohei starts hesitantly, licking his lips and placing a hand on Hanamichi’s hip, “I want to put it in… Can I?”

Yohei spoke in his familiar polite, sweet-sounding tone, now being used to make a filthy request. He was completely flushed, staring at Hanamichi with eyes full of recognizable want and he was breathing like holding his cock and doing nothing with it was physically excruciating for him. Witnessing him act like this filled Hanamichi with a fierce urge to see more, to impress the other boy, and if it meant being under that gaze for longer he’d give Yohei what he wants.

“Yes. You can.”

With Yohei’s bangs falling over his eyes the face he made looked even more hungry.

Hanamichi leaned his head on the wall again, bracing himself in anticipation while hands grabbed his hips. The tip of Yohei’s cock touched his ass and started to push.

Oh, fuck. His eyes instantly screwed shut as his hole burned around Yohei’s girth.

Hanamichi knew pain well. He led a life of inflicting and receiving pain, he could confidently say that he confronts it more than the average person, and his tolerance for it was a lot better than most people.

The sensation in his ass was different from the kind of pain he knew. His eyes were starting to prickle from the intensity. He hissed through his teeth. He wanted to pull away so bad. But stopping now didn’t sit right with him. Not after he’d kept stopping in the middle of practice since the training week started.

He needed to show that he wasn’t going to quit. He was going to get through this. He tightly held onto the hands on his hips, trying to control his breathing and the trembling in his legs.

Hanamichi’s breaths came short, broken noises escaped him and tears gathered in the corners of his eyes. He forced himself to stay still while Yohei steadily rocked into him, accepting the searing pressure.

“Just a bit more,” Yohei whispered in a gentle voice, breath warm on his shoulder blade as a thumb rubbed comforting circles on his hip.

Hanamichi let out a whimper as more of Yohei shoved inside, inching further and further, until the entirety of his cock was finally surrounded in tightness, hips flush against Hanamichi’s ass. 

“Fuck…” He released a sigh, resting his head against Hanamichi’s spine, “Hey, are you okay?”

Hanamichi was not okay. He was sweating like he’d just done a hundred laps, his hole ached and tears were threatening to fall on the tiled floor. He wordlessly nods.

Arms wrapped around Hanamichi’s waist securely, “I’m going to move now.”

“Wait-” Hanamichi gets interrupted when Yohei grinds against him.

He winces at the subtle movement, trying to get used to it. It wasn’t unbearable as it was a minute ago, not as sharp anymore. Besides the sting, there was the weight of Yohei’s cock, the heat radiating off his body, and his pulse from where their bodies connected.

Hanamichi thought it was strange, feeling so full in a place he’d never bothered to look. It made him think of how there was so much about his own body that he doesn’t know. A part of him was relieved that he was learning about it with his friend and not anyone else, though he’ll never admit that out loud.

Yohei starts to thrust shallowly, his shaft rubbing within Hanamichi’s tight heat. As he continued his pace there became less and less resistance from Hanamachi's hole, allowing his cock to drag with more ease. Hanamichi squirmed, lifting his hips, trying to accomodate Yohei’s thrusts and wanting to chase the sensation he felt earlier. 

Then Yohei takes his dick out and shoves the whole of it in one motion, forcing a startled yelp out of Hanamichi. Momentarily, Yohei had hit his sensitive spot, sending sparks of pleasure down his legs and up his spine.

Each of Yohei’s careful thrusts became rough and greedy, gradually replacing the ache with a scorching fire that lit Hanamichi's nerves, making it hard for him to think and stop the jitters across his body. His jaw went slack, the muscles of his legs tense as they try to keep him upright and his dick bounced at each smack of the hips, continuously pumping out precum that dripped down his thighs and onto the floor. It was awkward, uncomfortable, and so so pleasurable at the same time.

Behind him a warm tongue dragged over his spine and over his shoulder blade, nipping and sucking at his skin eagerly. Hanamichi hadn’t even noticed when his shirt rode up, completely distracted by the friction of Yohei’s cock sliding into him, feeling like nothing he’s ever felt before, creating obscene sounds every time Yohei’s hips met the flesh of his ass and making a mess against the wall. 

“Yohei,” Hanamichi mumbled deliriously, “Ohh… Good… That feels good.”

In the distance, the sound of footsteps could suddenly be heard coming from the hallway.

The two boys freeze, coming to their senses and going completely quiet. Yohei immediately pulls out and frantically drags them both to one of the bathroom stalls. 

Hanamichi’s heart beat nervously while he listened. The footsteps come closer, walking around the bathroom, then he hears a yawn.

“Can’t believe those two…” Ohkusu scoffed tiredly, which caused Hanamichi’s heart to drop. For a second, he thought they’d been caught, but Ohkusu continued to mumble to himself, “Training at his hour.”

Well, they were exerting their bodies, but Hanamichi wouldn’t exactly call it training. He hears a faint rustle of clothes followed by the unmistakable sound of their friend pissing into one of the urinals. Then there’s a brief sound of water running before footsteps walk and disappear outside the hallway.

The moment the footsteps were gone, Yohei let out a sigh of relief and Hanamichi silently moved over to the toilet. Yohei leaned an arm on the bathroom stall, visibly relaxing and releasing a faint chuckle, “That was close.”

“Should we go-“ Yohei turns around and goes rigid at the sight of Hanamichi sitting on the closed toilet lid, hands gripping the back of his knees, spreading his legs apart.

Yohei blushed, he audibly swallowed, “Hanamichi, why are you-“

“It’s easier like this,” Hanamichi says, brows furrowed impatiently. Heat crept up to his face at the position, “So, c’mon and finish what you started.”

At that, Yohei’s cock swelled again. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, “I might never get this image off my mind ever again.”

He sounds exasperated, but he took a step closer and carefully settled between Hanamichi’s legs. Yohei frustratingly took his time, his half-lidded eyes roamed the taller boy’s body, “You look so good like this.”

Hanamichi burned at the praise, felt electricity in his body and his hole fluttering involuntarily for the second time.

Yohei placed his hands on Hanamichi’s knees, “I noticed something,” a mischievous look pulled at Yohei’s face, hands caressing the back of Hanamichi’s thighs, “Do you like it when I say things like that?”

Hanamichi frowned, which only made Yohei laugh, “What’s making you so mad? There’s nothing wrong with it.” 

But there was, because Hanamichi’s skin burned so hot each time Yohei did it and that said something about him.

“This is all your fault, just put it in already,” Hanamichi wrapped his legs around Yohei, pulling the other boy towards his body and steering away from the topic, “Before I change my mind.”

“So aggressive,” Yohei mutters, smile never leaving his lips, even as he starts to lift Hanamichi’s long legs, placing them over his shoulders, then leaning close, nearly bending Hanamichi’s body in half. He slowly pushed his cock down into Hanamichi’s hole until his entire shaft rested deep inside, earning him a satisfied sigh from the redhead.

“Technically, you started this,” Yohei breathed, beginning to thrust at a steady pace. He closed a hand around Hanamichi’s dick and stroked in time with his thrusts, filling the restroom with dirty sounds once again.

“Shut up…” Hanamichi said, as threatening as someone with a dick up their ass could be. 

The position was somehow better compared to earlier, his legs not having to carry his weight as Yohei pounded into him, providing more pleasurable friction that felt heavenly.

Hanamichi gripped the fabric of Yohei’s shirt, breaths starting to come fast again, closing his eyes and focusing on reaching his orgasm.

Suddenly, Yohei thrust his hips at an angle that pushed a loud, sinful moan out of Hanamichi’s lips, echoing off the restroom’s walls. The redhead stared in shock and immediately covered his mouth with a hand, glaring at Yohei accusingly.

Yohei blinked in surprise, then to Hanamichi’s annoyance he smirks, “You don’t even want to let me know you’re enjoying our training?”

Before Hanamichi could retort, Yohei was grinding his hips more relentlessly, aiming towards the same sensitive spot, making Hanamichi’s back arch off the toilet and his legs shiver uncontrollably, effectively keeping him from saying anything comprehensible. He was starting to regret this position, realizing late how it made Yohei even more of a menace. 

Yohei’s lips drew close to the hand that covered Hanamichi’s mouth, warm breath brushing over his skin, “You feel so good.”

Yohei stared, in the same way he does when he stood from the courtside and watched one of Shohoku’s matches, in the same way when their friends were talking and laughing over their lunches, when Hanamichi rambled about the most mundane things, when he thinks Hanamichi doesn’t notice.

At that moment, Hanamichi was no longer convinced that what they were doing was out of curiosity. With barely any distance between them, he could see that Yohei’s eyes were filled with… Adoration. 

Knowing that Yohei felt as good as he did, thrusting in his ass without restraint, stroking his dick and looking at him like that, the pressure in Hanamichi’s gut built up faster than he could imagine. It doesn’t take long until he’s muffling a cry into his palm and spilling cum all over Yohei’s fist.

Yohei’s hips began to stutter against him and soon shot cum into the condom shoved deep within him with a moan.

Their chests rose and fell, bodies completely spent, and clothes disheveled.  Yohei remains still against him, face hidden in his collarbone. This close, he could smell the wax Yohei uses on his hair, fainter now from washing it off for the night, mixing with his natural musk. It was an oddly comforting scent, Hanamichi tiredly thinks he could fall asleep to it.

Then Yohei pulls out, leaving a pleasant tingle across his body. Hanamichi sighed in relief at finally cumming, but tenses up when the condom messily clings to his rim, semen running down the crevice of his ass and dripping onto the floor as it slides off Yohei’s flaccid cock.

Yohei reddened at the sight, but Hanamichi straightened up, complained about the sticky fluids and dragged Yohei to take a shower with him later that night. Unable to control their urges they end up doing it again under the spraying water, against the tiled walls, without a condom this time- before washing up.

Once they got changed into clean clothes, they went to the clubroom where the others were asleep, completely unaware of their whereabouts.

Despite what they did together that night, the two didn’t sleep next to each other in the sheets laid out on the floor, pretending like nothing happened–

______________

As Hanamichi thinks back to the events from the past few days, heat crept to his face. He stood awkwardly in the middle of the large gym with the three older boys staring at him in anticipation. 

“Hanamichi,” Miyagi said carefully, “What happened while we were gone?”

Hanamichi pulls his gaze up from the floor he had polished the day before and directs it towards the three. Kogure looks concerned, Mitsui was in disbelief and betrayal was written all over Miyagi’s face.

He opens his mouth, closes it. Then he sprints towards the exit of the gym in an instant.

“Hanamichi!” Miyagi and Mitsui shouted behind him. He could hear Kogure scolding them as he got farther.

He ran towards the road, his worn-out shoes roughly hitting the asphalt, putting distance between him and the school as much as possible, until the buildings around him were way outside of Shohoku’s vicinity.

Once he was far enough from the campus, he slows down and walks around the street aimlessly, catching his breath.

Damn those nosey idiots. Hanamichi cursed inwardly. He didn’t owe them a single explanation. What happened to him that week is none of their business, and he’s not going to deal with their annoying interrogation even if it kills him!

Though he couldn’t help but be frustrated at how easily he could’ve avoided that embarrassing confrontation, if only Yohei and the other’s hadn’t been in such a hurry to leave that morning. He had to tidy up the gym and the equipment all by himself after those bastards left yesterday. He’s glad that Haruko was there to give him a hand, but in his tired state, he completely forgot to check the clubroom, where Yohei left the object that started all this… 

Tired from running in the summer heat, Hanamichi looks around the area and walks over to the first convenience store he sees. He’s greeted by the cool air from the AC as he pushes through the front door of the establishment. With nobody else in the store, he mindlessly paced around random isles of products.

The sound of coins clicking makes him peak at the person behind the counter, whose face he recognized.

Hanamichi’s eyes widened in surprise, “Yohei!? What are you doing here?”

Yohei, who was in the process of counting change, startles at Hanamichi’s presence, “Hanamichi. I work here.”

Hanamichi blinks, “Work here?” his eyes shifted to the name tag that said ‘Mito’ on Yohei’s shirt. How could that be if Yohei’s been around the school gym since the past week?

As if reading his mind, Yohei says, “I took a leave of absence.” 

“Oh,” Hanamichi went quiet. Then his eyes wandered to the products near the counter, past the mint and lighters, “Wait a second… Is this where you keep getting your condoms!?”

Yohei doesn’t respond, but his breathy laugh and his hand rubbing the back of his neck says everything Hanamichi needed to know. He gives Yohei an unimpressed look.

Hanamichi finds himself thinking about the argument between the other basketball club members earlier, Ryota wasn’t completely wrong about whoever left the condom after all.

“What about you, what are you doing here?”

Hanamichi idly fumbled with the contents on the shelf next to him, “I just felt like going here, I didn’t expect to see you. It’s funny ‘cos I was just thinking about you.”

“Really now?” Yohei folded his arms over the counter, intrigued, “What were you thinking of?”

Hanamichi’s hand froze, only just realizing what he said and where the conversation might lead to if he wasn’t careful. His teammates being stupid was his problem to deal with and he didn’t want Yohei to worry about getting into trouble. His mind raced thinking of what to say.

“It’s nothing,” Hanamichi says, but he didn’t sound convincing even to himself, “I should head back to the school gym.”

Yohei stares at him for a moment as if considering something.

“Say, Hanamichi, once you finish your training with the basketball club,” a smile spreads on Yohei’s lips, “Why don’t you come train with me after?”

Hanamichi’s eyes widened.

He’s thinking about running back to the school gym. He’ll endure whatever stupid things his teammates have to say to him, nothing they say could possibly be harder to deal with than the guy that left him with a sore ass and complicated thoughts to think about. Despite himself, memories of that night vividly flashed in his mind, making his face burn.

“You don’t even play basketball,” Hanamichi weakly retorts. He moved towards the exit, then paused in his tracks. He scowled, taking a moment to look at Yohei.

“I’ll think about it,” he says before pulling the door open and rushing out of the store. 

***