My Warning: Now, obviously, I don?t own these characters. I don?t claim to, so don?t sue. The only thing I claim ownership for is this idea...

~~~x~~~

Kogure nodded and mumbled something into the mouthpiece as Hisashi spoke.

"I'll be over in a few minutes. I just have to grab my stuff."

"Hai, Hisashi."

"Soreja."

"Soreja."

Kogure clicked off the cordless phone and sighed. Mitsui was supposed to be coming over to study for their mid-term exams. Of course, he would probably be able to concentrate more if Mitsui wasn't there, but that was beside the point. He had always loved Hisashi's company and if he wanted to come over and study, then whether or not he was going to get any work done was irrelevant.

He signed and plopped onto the couch, grabbing his glass of water and history text. More than likely nothing would happen, all things considered. After all, he was pretty sure that Mitsui didn't think of him in that way. He had never sent any signals that he did, at least none that Kogure could decipher. He sighed again and took a sip from his glass, opening the text. He figured he should try and study now, since having Hisashi in the general vicinity always made his mind blank out.

It was such a scary thing when it happened. And it hadn't started just recently either. Thinking back, he could remember acting like this freshman year, only much more subtly. So subtly that he himself didn't even notice. And it had hurt him so much when Mitsui had quit the team and started acting differently. It made him sick with worry when he was running around with that gang. He had buried all his pain away, of course, part of him not wanting to deal with it and what it meant, and the other part knowing he would go insane if he did face it. Then there was the day it had all welled up on him, bursting forth and lashing out in an uncontrolled display of Kogure's pent-up anger. He was surprised at it, and at the moment had reprimanded himself for not being in better control of his emotions. But then, everything had started changing again, for the better this time. Mitsui joined the team, looking up to the coach, Anzai-sensei, admiring him and promising him he would never fight again. As a final testimony to his changed life, he'd cut his hair short once more, and the spectacled boy had always liked it short and messy.

Kogure stared down at his open book, the words blurring before him. He took off his glasses and wiped them clean, but that didn't help. He couldn't focus, and he didn't want to sit still. He needed to move.

Getting up, he paced the circumference of the room, running a hand through his tousled hair and trying to calm himself down. If Mitsui saw him like this he'd know something was up, and right now he wasn't sure he wanted the other boy to know. After all, he valued his friendship to him more than anything, and to ruin it over something like this...

Maybe it is better to have loved and lost...

He shook his head ruefully and stopped in front of one of his walls, staring at the picture frame. In it were dozens of pictures that traced his basketball years. At age five, he was holding a ball and grinning, his two front teeth missing.

Hisashi is missing his front teeth...I think the ones he has now are either concrete or dentures. He grinned slightly, wishing he could find out without asking. Pushing the thought away, his gaze wandered over other pictures of a young Kogure, stopping again at his middle school team pictures. There was the first time Hisashi appeared, grinning like a fool in the picture, just a hint of his handsomeness hidden behind the middle school dorkiness that everyone had at that age. One picture in particular caught his eyes, and he moved closer, the glare from the overhead lights reflecting on the glass. In it, Hasashi and Kiminobu were standing together, Mitsui laughing and pounding Kogure on the back, and the spectacled boy leaning forward, as if reeling from the "love tap." Kogure grinned and moved on, past more pictures of freshman year, where Mitsui made less and less appearances, and then finally he reached the bottom, where Mitsui appeared once more, looking rougher than he had in middle school, and with a hint of unknown wisdom hidden in the depths of his eyes. The scar on his chin had appeared as well, a testimony to his absence and the path he'd wandered off on for that period of time. Again Kogure's eyes were drawn to one in particular. Mitsui and him were in the middle of an intense one-on-one, and while Kogure was in no way near Mitsui's level of skill, you could tell they were both concentrating completely, for neither of them had looked up from the game when Sakuragi had yelled, "Cheese!" to snap the shot. They were both hunched down, and Mitsui had the ball, the camera catching him as he was bouncing it from one hand to the other, his eyes locked with Kogure's. Kogure blushed, reaching out to trace the outline of Mitsui's cheek, his eyes distancing themselves as he tried to remember that day not long ago. The blocking had been close, enough to call a foul on, arms and legs rubbing against one another, shoulders brushing as they tried to spin away and block. Sweaty arms that reached around the other's waist to grab the ball. At one point he could vaguely recall the on looking Shohoku team casting glances at one another and muttering. Both of them, of course, had ignored it. And, as expected, Mitsui had won, but Kogure was rewarded for all his hard work with two things: one, the sight of Mitsui, flushed red from the workout, sweat trickling down his forehead and glistening on his arms and legs. The sight was enough to send Kogure into shivers, both then and now. The second thing was a picture of Mitsui in that state, which Kogure was currently starring at, unconsciously reaching out to touch the picture, as if it were really Mitsui.

The doorbell jolted him out of his reverie and he shook his head, backed away from the picture frame. There was nothing he could do to get Mitsui, and he would have to cope with that and enjoy Hisashi's company while he still could. Because, eventually, he would reach the point where he could no longer keep his emotions inside anymore, and then, when that day came, their friendship would be shattered. What would replace it would either be a lover's relationship that Kiminubo so desired, or a strained, strictly basketball relationship that would tear Kogure into pieces.

He turned to answer the door when Mitsui decided he'd waited long enough and let himself in, taking off his shoes and padding into Kogure's living room in his socks.

"Kon'nichi wa, Min-kun." He smiled in that devilish way that made Kogure's knees weak and his mind turn to Jell-O. Kogure nodded and smiled back, sticking his hands in the pockets of his pants to hide the shaking from Mitsui. Oh, why was he acting like this? As if he were still a middle schooler!

Mitsui had settled himself comfortably on the couch, his books on the coffee table in front of him, next to Kiminobu's. "Did you get those notes from Takaha-sensai's class? I took some but they're really confusing." He was shuffling through some papers in his hands, his small, slanted writing filling the pages completely, along with some doodles around the edges that Kogure couldn't make out.

Study. Right. We're here to study. Kogure nodded, his mind still off-balance as he slowly sat down on the couch near Hisashi, reaching into his history notebook and searching for his notes from last class.

"Here they are." Kogure held them up for Hisashi's inspection, and the taller boy leaned forward, his chin barely brushing Kogure's shoulder. If he'd turned his head just an inch in Mitsui's direction, his lips would have brushed that delectable scar...

"You always did take really good notes, Min-kun." With each syllable uttered, Mitsui's chin tapped Kogure's shoulder, sending an electric jolt of awareness all throughout Kiminobu's body, all of it centered on that one shoulder. He contained his sigh as Mitsui took his notes, long, strong fingers lightly grazing his own. He felt the heat of a blush rising from his neck and turned away from Mitsui so he wouldn't see it, struggling to remain poised.

He retrieved his history book and buried himself in it, not really seeing the bold words in front of him. Instead, a vision of deep blue eyes swam in his mind, and no matter how he tried (though he didn't struggle very hard), he couldn't make the image go away.

"Min-kun, are you really that near-sighted?"

"Nani?"

Mitsui reached over and touched the edge of the book with three fingers, pushing it slowly away from Kogure's face. "I always found it difficult to read when the book is a foot from my face." He grinned wolfishly before turning back to Kogure's precise notes.

He really was studying. He was able to study. Kogure stifled his groan as he shifted his weight, both his feet tucked beneath him, book balanced on the arm rest of the couch. Lucky Hisashi. Which just proved to Kogure that the other boy was much less affected by his presence then vice versa. He mumbled under his breath and tried to read.

"What was that, Min-kun?" Mitsui looked up, eyebrows drawn together in concentration, biting thoughtfully on his lower lip.

Kogure found his expression endearing. Does that really help you think, or are you doing that for my benefit? He couldn't help wondering to himself, watching as he licked his lips and continued to stare at Kogure, obviously waiting for a response.

Kogure shook his head to clear his mind. Don't be ridiculous, Kogure. He obviously doesn't even realize he's doing it. He sighed and locked gazes with Mitsui. "Oh, no, I didn't say anything." He muttered, his eyes drawn to the other boy's lips.

Mitsui smiled secretively and went back to the notes. Kogure ran a hand through his thick hair, trying vainly to push the strands off his forehead. However, the straight, silky brown locks persisted in splitting down the middle like the Red Sea had for Moses and falling into his eyes.

Mitusi chuckled. "You always were cute when you did that."

Kogure's head snapped up. "Nani?"

"Your hair. Even in middle school it fell in your eyes. I think one day you even came to school wearing a headband."

Kogure blushed at the memory and even the thought that he'd wear a headband. "Well, we all did silly things in middle school."

Mitsui smiled and nodded, watching as Kogure bent his head to stare at his book once more. He shifted his weight, trying to get comfortable. After a few minutes of moving around, he finally threw Kogure's papers on the coffee table and turned to Kogure, snatching the book from him and throwing it on top of his notes.

"Mitsui! Wha-" He was cut off by Mitsui, who had pinned him to the couch and was in the process of kissing him.

Without bothering to try and figure out why all this was happening, Kogure wrapped his arms around Mitsui, trying to deepen the kiss.

Mitsui pulled away. "Gee, and I thought you wanted to study."

"Apparently you're about as interested in it as I am..." Kogure grinned, tracing Mitsui's back with his index finger. Mitsui smiled back.

"Well, here's an interesting subject that's worth investigating..."

"What? Social Relationships Among Teenagers?"

Mitsui looked blank and then laughed. "I was thinking more along the lines of Anatomy."

Kogure blushed and squirmed under Mitsui's weight. Mitsui rolled off Kogure, lying on his side with his back to the couch, head propped up on his hand. He idly tickled Kogure's stomach. Kiminobu chuckled.

"So, I suppose we aren't going to study?"

"Do you want to?"

"Well..." Kogure looked at his books, then looked back at Mitsui's playful blue eyes.

" 'Cause right now I'm having trouble getting my mind off kissing you. That's much more interesting to me than anything I'll find in those books." He traced Kogure's lips with a finger, the brush light as a feather.

Kogure didn't have to think twice about that one. Throwing an arm over Mitsui's side, he smiled back at him and said softly, "So what are you waiting for?"

Mitsui shook his head. "Nothing, now." And with that said he ducked his head down and kissed him, a kiss that was soft and tentative, holding the promise of so many more to come in their depths.

~~~x~~~

The End